folks does. There's
allus so much ter do in this house. Does seem the beatenes'! An'
there ain't nobody nowheres likes nice clo'es better than I do, Niece
Janice. I use ter dress pretty nifty, if I do say it. But that was a
long time ago, a long time ago.

"No. Never mind 'em now. I'll wash the hull kit an' bilin' of 'em up
after supper. No use in takin' two bites to a cherry," she added,
referring to the dishes in the sink.

Janice climbed the stairs to her room, carefully stepping over the
broken tread. There was water in her pitcher, and she made her simple
toilet, putting on a fresh frock. Then she sat down in the rocker by
the window. Every time she swung to and fro the loose rocker clicked
and rattled.

The red light that heralded the departure of the sun behind the wooded
hills across the lake seemed to make the room and its mismated
furnishings uglier than before. The girl turned her back upon it with
almost a sob, and gazed out upon the terraced hillside and the lake,
the latter already darkening. The shadows on the farther shore were
heavy, but here and there a point of sudden light showed a farmhouse.

A belated bird, winging its way homeward, called shrilly. The breeze
sobbed in the nearby tree-tops, and then died suddenly.

Such a lonely, homesick feeling possessed Janice Day as she had never
imagined before! She was away off here in the East, while Daddy's
train was still flying westward with him, down towards that war-ruffled
Mexico. And she was obliged to stay here--in this ugly old house--with
these shiftless people----.

"Oh, dear Daddy! I wish you could be here right now," the girl half
sobbed. "I wish you could see this place--and the folks here! I know
what _you'd_ say, Daddy; I know just what you'd say about it all!"

CHAPTER V

'RILL SCATTERGOOD AND HER SCHOOL

With the elasticity of Youth, however, Janice opened her eyes the
following morning on a new world. Certainly the outlook from her
window was glorious; therefore her faith in life itself--and in
Poketown and her relatives--was renewed as she gazed out upon the
beautiful picture fresh-painted by the fingers of Dawn.

All out-of-doors beckoned Janice. She hurriedly made her toilet, crept
down the squeaking stairs, and softly let herself out, for nobody else
was astir about the old Day house.

The promise of the morning from the window was kept in full. Janice
could not walk sedately--she fairly skipp