g all right durin' the day, but
when night come, and the frogs and the katydids begun to holler, I'd
think about home and wish I was there; and when Aunt Mary put me to bed
and carried the light away, I'd bury my face in the pillow and cry
myself to sleep. And just now, when I heard that katydid up yonder in
the old locust tree, I felt just like I used to feel at Aunt Mary's."

Her voice quivered on the last word, but once more she laughed bravely.
A flash of comprehension crossed Mary Martin's brain. She leaned over
and laid her hand on the other woman's arm.

"You're homesick," she said, with a note of deep sympathy in her voice.
"All day I've been thinkin' about it, and I've come to the conclusion
that you've got the hardest part of this matter. Henry and Anna Belle
owe more to you than they do to me. We've both given up a child, but
you've given up your home, too, and that's a hard thing to do at your
time of life." At her time of life! The words were like a spur to a
jaded horse. Mrs. Williams straightened her shoulders, raised her head,
and laughed again.

"Shuh!" she said carelessly, "changin' your house ain't any more than
changin' your dress. I ain't so far gone in years yet that I have to
stick in the same old place to keep from dyin'. But I reckon I'm like
that spring branch that used to run through the field back of Father's
house. It was always overflowin' and ruinin' a part o' the crop, and one
fall Father went to work and turned it out of its course into a rocky
old pasture where it couldn't do any harm. I was just a little child,
but I remember how sorry I felt for that little stream runnin' along
between the new banks, and I used to wonder if it wasn't homesick for
the old course, and if it didn't miss the purple flags and the willers
and cat-tails that used to grow alongside of it; but just let me get a
good night's rest and my things all straightened out, and I'll soon get
used to the new banks and be as much at home as you are."

She rose heavily from her chair. "I believe I'll go to bed now," she
said briskly. "Movin' 's no light work, and we're both tired."

"If you should get sick in the night or need anything," said Mrs.
Martin, following her into the house, "don't fail to call me."

"I'm goin' to sleep the minute my head hits the pillow and sleep till
it's time to get up," replied Mrs. Williams, "and you do the same. Good
night!"

She closed the door and stood for a few seconds in the dar