child. I don't suppose there's a man there that don't
own his own house. There's Mel Parraday, who owns the _ho_-tel; and
Lem Pinney that owns stock in this very steamboat comp'ny; and
Walkworthy Dexter--Walky's done expressin' and stage-drivin' since
before my 'Rill come here to Poketown to teach."

"But--but they look so ragged and unshaven," gasped Janice.

"Pshaw! they ain't proud, I reckon," cackled the old lady, gathering up
her knitting and dropping it into the beaded bag, which she shut with a
snap.

"But isn't there anybody proud _of_ them?" queried Janice. "Haven't
they mothers--or wives--or sisters?"

The old lady stared at her. Then she made a sudden clicking in her
throat that might have been a chuckle. "I declare for't, child!" she
ejaculated. "I dunno as many of us in these parts _air_ proud of our
men folks."

Just then the steamboat's bow bumped the wharf. The jar scarcely
seemed to awaken the languid line of Poketownites ranged along the
other side. The only busy person in sight was the employee of the
steamboat company who caught the loop of the hawser thrown him, and
dropped it over a pile. The rest of the men just raised their heads
and stared, chewing reflectively on either tobacco or straws, until the
plank was dropped and the deckhands began trundling the freight and
baggage ashore.

There were two or three commercial drummers beside Mrs. Scattergood and
Janice, who disembarked on this dock. Mrs. Scattergood bade the girl
from the West a brisk good-bye and went directly up the dock, evidently
expecting nobody to meet her at this time of day. A lanky man, with
grizzled brows and untrimmed beard, got up slowly from the stringpiece
of the wharf and slouched forward to meet Janice Day.

"I reckon you be Broxton's gal, eh?" he queried, his eyes twinkling not
unkindly. "Ye sort er favor him--an' he favored his mother in more
ways than one. You're Janice Day?"

"Oh, yes indeed! And you're my Uncle Jason?" cried the girl,
impulsively seizing Mr. Day's hand. There was nothing about this man
that at all reminded Janice of her father; yet the thought of their
really being so closely related to each other was comforting. "I'm so
glad to see you," she continued. "I hope you'll like me, Uncle
Jason--and I hope Aunt Almira will like me. And there is a cousin,
too, isn't there--a boy? Dear me! I've been looking forward to
meeting you all ever since I left Greensboro, and been wonde