ABSTRACT
I went to see poor Mrs. Shaw, whose husband had just died the day before.1 He has been a long sufferer, and a patient one; he died quietly at home, attended with love which I never saw equalled among the poor. His wife, a gentle, humble, faithful woman, was sitting with her niece and a friend, and answered when I asked how she was: 'Well, of course, Miss, having had my work so long I miss it.'
