ruther not _tell_ you where I put it, Miss Mary Jane, if you don't mind letting me off; but I'll write it for you on a piece of paper, and you can read it along the road to Mr. Lothrop's, if you want to.  Do you reckon that 'll do?” “Oh, yes.” So I wrote: “I put it in the coffin.  It was in there when you was crying there, away in the night.  I was behind the door, and I was mighty sorry for you, Miss Mary Jane.” It made my eyes water a little to remember her crying there all by herself in the night, and them devils laying there right under her own roof, shaming her and robbing her; and when I folded it up and give it to her I see the water come into her eyes, too; and she shook me by the hand, hard, and says: “_Good_-bye.  I'm going to do everything just as you've told me; and if I don't ever see you again, I sha'n't ever forget you and I'll think of you a many and a many a time, and I'll _pray_ for you, too!”--and she was gone. Pray for me!  I reckoned if she knowed me she'd take a job that was more nearer her size.  But I bet she done it, just the same--she was just that kind.  She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion--there warn't no back-down to her, I judge.  You may say what you want to, but in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my opinion she was just full of sand.  It sounds like flattery, but it ain't no flattery.  And when it comes to beauty--and goodness, too--she lays over them all.  I hain't ever seen her since that time that I see her go out of that door; no, I hain't ever seen her since, but I reckon I've thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she would pray for me; and if ever I'd a thought it would do any good for me to pray for _her_, blamed if I wouldn't a done it or bust. Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see her go.  When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says: “What's the name of them people over on t'other side of the river t