"The minister come back pretty soon, and I told him I was all ready, and we started down to the bo't.He had picked up some round stones and things and was carrying them in his pocket-handkerchief; an' he sat down amidships without making any question, and let me take the rudder an' work the bo't, an' made no remarks for some time, until we sort of eased it off speaking of the weather, an' subjects that arose as we skirted Black Island, where two or three families lived belongin' to the parish.He preached next Sabbath as usual, somethin' high soundin' about the creation, and I couldn't help thinkin' he might never get no further; he seemed to know no remedies, but he had a great use of words."Mrs.Fosdick sighed again."Hearin' you tell about Joanna brings the time right back as if 'twas yesterday," she said."Yes, she was one o' them poor things that talked about the great sin; we don't seem to hear nothing about the unpardonable sin now, but you may say 'twas not uncommon then.""I expect that if it had been in these days, such a person would be plagued to death with idle folks," continued Mrs.Todd, after a long pause."As it was, nobody trespassed on her; all the folks about the bay respected her an' her feelings; but as time wore on, after you left here, one after another ventured to make occasion to put somethin' ashore for her if they went that way.Iknow mother used to go to see her sometimes, and send William over now and then with something fresh an' nice from the farm.
There is a point on the sheltered side where you can lay a boat close to shore an' land anything safe on the turf out o' reach o'
the water.There were one or two others, old folks, that she would see, and now an' then she'd hail a passin' boat an' ask for somethin'; and mother got her to promise that she would make some sign to the Black Island folks if she wanted help.I never saw her myself to speak to after that day.""I expect nowadays, if such a thing happened, she'd have gone out West to her uncle's folks or up to Massachusetts and had a change, an' come home good as new.The world's bigger an' freer than it used to be," urged Mrs.Fosdick.
"No," said her friend."'Tis like bad eyesight, the mind of such a person: if your eyes don't see right there may be a remedy, but there's no kind of glasses to remedy the mind.No, Joanna was Joanna, and there she lays on her island where she lived and did her poor penance.She told mother the day she was dyin' that she always used to want to be fetched inshore when it come to the last;but she'd thought it over, and desired to be laid on the island, if 'twas thought right.So the funeral was out there, a Saturday afternoon in September.'Twas a pretty day, and there wa'n't hardly a boat on the coast within twenty miles that didn't head for Shell-heap cram-full o' folks an' all real respectful, same's if she'd always stayed ashore and held her friends.Some went out o'
mere curiosity, I don't doubt,--there's always such to every funeral; but most had real feelin', and went purpose to show it.
She'd got most o' the wild sparrows as tame as could be, livin' out there so long among 'em, and one flew right in and lit on the coffin an' begun to sing while Mr.Dimmick was speakin'.He was put out by it, an' acted as if he didn't know whether to stop or go on.I may have been prejudiced, but I wa'n't the only one thought the poor little bird done the best of the two.""What became o' the man that treated her so, did you ever hear?" asked Mrs.Fosdick."I know he lived up to Massachusetts for a while.Somebody who came from the same place told me that he was in trade there an' doin' very well, but that was years ago.""I never heard anything more than that; he went to the war in one o' the early regiments.No, I never heard any more of him,"answered Mrs.Todd."Joanna was another sort of person, and perhaps he showed good judgment in marryin' somebody else, if only he'd behaved straight-forward and manly.He was a shifty-eyed, coaxin' sort of man, that got what he wanted out o' folks, an' only gave when he wanted to buy, made friends easy and lost 'em without knowin' the difference.She'd had a piece o' work tryin' to make him walk accordin' to her right ideas, but she'd have had too much variety ever to fall into a melancholy.Some is meant to be the Joannas in this world, an' 'twas her poor lot."
