on the table. "It don't come true with me
more 'n three times out o' five, but there's others that never fails.
You jest hold on, Huldy; the dish-cloth and the rooster knows as much
'bout what's goin' to happen as your white petticoat does."

"Jest about as much," interpolated Jimmy, with his utterance somewhat
choked by hot doughnut.

Huldah sat down at the table and made a pretense of eating something,
but her heart was heavy within her.

"What are you churning for on Friday, mother?" she asked.

"Why, I told you I am looking for strangers. It ain't Pitt Packard
only that I expect. Yesterday mornin' I swept a black mark on the
floor; in the afternoon I found two o' the settin'-room chairs
standin' back to back, and my right hand kep' itchin' all day, so't I
knew I was goin' to shake hands with somebody."

"You told me 't was the left hand," said Jimmy.

"I never told you no such thing, Jimmy Rumford. Eat your breakfast,
and don't contradict your mother, or I'll send you to bed quick 's you
finish eatin'. Don't you tell me what I said nor what I didn't say,
for I won't have it. Do you hear me?"

"You did!" responded Jimmy obstinately, preparing to dodge under the
table in case of sudden necessity. "You said your left hand itched,
and it meant money comin', and you hoped Rube Hobson was goin' to pay
you for the turkey he bought a year ago last Thanksgivin'-time, so
there!"

"So I did," said the widow reflectively. "Come to think of it, so I
did; it must 'a' been a Wednesday my right hand kep' itchin' so."

"And comp'ny didn't come a Wednesday neither," persevered Jimmy.

"Jimmy Rumford, if you don't behave yourself and speak when you're
spoken to, and not before, you'll git a trouncin' that you'll remember
consid'able of a spell afterwards."

"I'm ready for it!" replied the youngster, darting into the shed and
peeping back into the kitchen with a malignant smile. "I dreamt o'
Baldwin apples last night.

'Dream fruit out o' season,
That's anger without reason.'

I knew when I got up you'd get mad with me the first thing this
morning, and I'm all prepared--when you ketch me!"

Both women gave a sigh of relief when the boy's flying figure
disappeared around the corner of the barn. He was morally certain to
be in mischief wherever he was, but if he was out of sight there was
one point gained at least.

"Why do you care so dreadfully whether Pitt comes or not?" as