'earty to look at, but poor in 'erself. Sickens on Monday; lays up 
on Tuesday; sees the Doctor Wednesday; dies on Thursday. 'Tis 
in the blood o' our family. We're 'hearty to look at; but we none o' 
us lives to be old. They pea-blooms is a wonder. They be blooms, 
they be." 
"Could I offer you a handful?" inquired your servant, who was 
not unwilling to introduce a fragrant topic of conversation. 
"You be very kind, sir," responded Mr. Hannikin. "I got the 
ole lady close by me, in the Simmetary at Blowfield. I goo theer 
pretty nigh reglar, of a Sunday arternoon, an' I don't reckon that'd 
come amiss if I was to strew a 'andful o' they blossoms upon the 
poor soul's grave. Such wunnerful blooms as they be!" 
"I'll get the scissors," quoth your servant. 
"Don't you trouble naarthun cuttin' 'em for me, sir," protested 
Mr. Hannikin. "Leave me do the cuttin', sir. You kin trust me 
set about it ship-shape, sir. I shan't damage they vines, naarthun 
to speak of, if you leaves it to me, sir." 
I accordingly delivered the scissors into Mr. Hannikin's hand. 
"It were a cold raw day we buried her," said Mr. Hannikin, pre- 
sently, pursuing his reflections on the mortality of aunts. "About 
tea-time it weer. 'Tis new to me, this marnin' burial, same as you 
sim to go in for in this 'ere parish. 'Tis sharp work, boxin' 'em in afore 
twalve of a mornin'. 'Taint the custom anywheers else, ever 'I eered 
on. 'Tis to be 'oped as they don't do it reg'lar in this parish, oon'y on 
an emergency. There's one thing, tennerate, an' that's a sure thing — 
it don't do to stand on ceremony at this time o' year." 
"If you will excuse me," I said, "I will leave you to deal with the 
sweet peas, while I go indoors to attend to some rather pressing 
business. Take your time and kindly cut off any dead blossoms which 
you may happen to find." 
"You leave it to me, sir," cried Mr. Hannikin. "Don't you 
trouble naarthun. You leave it to me." 
I accordingly left it to Mr. Hannikin. When, after watching for 
his departure, from the parlor window, for three-quarters of an hour, 
I ventured into the garden again with a view to assuring myself of 
Mr. Hannikin's existence and perfect well-being, I discovered that 
gentleman still in the act of dealing with the Sweet peas. A pile of 
blossoms, one yard square and a foot high, which lay in a shady cor- 
ner of the garden, provided me with evidence of Mr. Hannikin's zeal 
and industry. As I surveyed the multi-colored mass of fragrance 
which Mr. Hannikin had deposited on the grass, my eye detected a 
splash of coral pink, and, hardly venturing to credit Mr. Hannikin 
with the audacity indicated by this discovery, I hastened to the 
heap of flowers. My God ! Mr. Hannikin had indeed dealt with my 
Sweet peas. 
15 
