mill or elsewhere that would bring in
wages. Since Amy had become a daily toiler, this attitude on his part
angered the poor woman beyond endurance.

Yet there was not any laziness about Fayette. Nobody could have been
more industrious, or more illy have directed his industry. As long as it
was possible to work in the ground he had labored upon the barren soil
of Bareacre, and those who understood such matters assured the Kayes
that they would really have a fine garden spot, when another spring came
round.

"Surely, he that makes the wilderness to blossom is well engaged,
Cleena," Mr. Kaye had remonstrated once, in his quiet way.

"Faith, yes, master, but till them roses bloom there might be better
doin'," she had returned. In her heart she respected Mr. Kaye's judgment
less even than the mill boy's, though she veiled this contempt by an
outward deference.

To-day was a crisis. For good or ill, Cleena had determined to have the
question of wage-earning settled. Either the lad must go to work and
bring in something to pay for his keep, or he must "clear himself out."

"D'ye mean it?"

"Yes, avick, I means it! Up with ye, or stay below--for as long as I
please."

Fayette threw down his pick and crawled forward through the trench he
was digging. The idle suggestion of Hallam had taken firm hold of the
natural's mind, and with a dogged persistence, that he showed also in
other matters, he had now been daily laboring upon the cross-shaped
excavation which was to ventilate the cellars of "Charity House." He had
made a fine beginning, and so explained to Cleena, as his mud-stained
face appeared above the cellar stairs.

"A beginnin' o' nonsense. When all's done, what use? Sit down an' taste
the last o' the cakes me neighbor sent up. Here, you William, keep out
o' that! It's for Miss Amy, dear heart. Four weeks an' longer she's been
up before light, trudgin' away as gay as a mavis, with never a word that
she's bothered. Alanna, Mister Gladstone, what's now?"

A surplus of small Joneses had swarmed over the lower floor of the house
on the hill, and their presence was now accepted by Cleena with little
opposition, because of the generosity of their parents.

"True for ye, the babies be forever under me foot, but one never comes
atop the rise but there's doubled in his little fist the stuff to make
him welcome. It may be a cake, or a biscuit, or a bowl o' milk even.
It's something for some one."

"The 'some one' is