on that
he knew nothing of the distance which stretched between him and the
city, nor of methods of communication. No letter or piece of mail of
any sort had ever come to his home, or that of any one else of which
he knew but things of various sorts were gotten from the crossroads
store ten miles away, skillets and pans, axes and hoes, which were
made somewhere, and he supposed some time when some one of the
community went to the store they'd find his watch there. But week
after week went by till spring came on, and nobody went to the store.
The mountain folk indeed had little need of stores. They spun and wove
the cloth for their clothes, raised their corn, pigs, and tobacco,
made their own "sweetin'," long and short, meaning sugar and molasses,
and distilled their own whiskey. So the boy's heart grew heavy again
with the long delay and he began to think bitterly that his father and
not his mother was right, when one day a stranger whom he had never
seen before drove up to the door.

II

A PACKAGE BY MAIL

"Howdye! Does airy feller named Stephen Langly live here?" said the
stranger, reining in his tired, raw-boned steed without difficulty.

Mirandy went to the cabin door, stared a minute in surprise and then
shook her head slowly. But Steve pushed past her saying:

"Yes, thar is, too. I'm Stephen Langly."

"You! Sakes erlive, I clean forgot that was yo' name!" and his sister
laughed lazily, while the stranger joined in.

"Wal, you're a powerful little chap to be a-gittin' mail. But this
here thing has yo' name on it, they tole me at the store, an' so I
brung it along as I was a-comin' this-a-way. Hit's been thar mo' than
three months they tole me."

Steve took the package, his hands trembling with eagerness and would
have darted away to the woods with his treasure where he might look
upon it first alone, but Mirandy stormed when he turned to go, and the
man said:

"'Pears to me you mought show what ye got, when I brung it all this
long ways to ye."

That did seem the fair thing to do, so when they had asked the man to
"light and hitch," Steve sat down on the door-step and removed the
wrappings from the square box; there was tissue paper first, a miracle
of daintiness which the boy had never beheld before, and at last the
watch came to view. Steve lifted it in trembling fingers, and while
Mirandy and the man expressed their admiration his first quivering
words were:

"That other one was yaller."