ted them around her finger pretty much as it was. And that's
where Steve misses her. He's used to being run. He's lost. About a
week after she was buried he took her picture down out of the parlor
and hung it up nearer the kitchen where he could see it every day."

"But," exclaimed Janet, "I thought you said he hardly ever went into
the house!"

Jonas took a moment for consideration. Then he put his hand to his hip
pocket and felt around in it. Not finding what he was looking for, and
being evidently at a loss, he cast his eyes about on the vacant ground.
Presently his eye lit on Janet's yellow oil-coat. He reached out and
took it, and having folded it somewhat like a cushion, so that its back
presented a smooth surface, he again made search of his various
pockets. When he had hunted down the elusive lead-pencil he moistened
it on his tongue and set to work deliberately to draw on the slicker.
The result of his work was simply a square.

"That," he said, "is Steve's house."

Moistening the pencil again, he drew another square, somewhat smaller,
so that it just touched the other square corner to corner.

"That's the kitchen," he explained.

Again he drew a square; this one touching corners with the kitchen so
that it faced the side of the house.

"That's the milk-house," he said.

The three squares, one large and two smaller ones, being thus joined at
the corners, made a space between them. This space, surrounded on but
three sides, seemed to be open towards the road.

"Now, this place in between here," began Jonas, "is out of doors. But
it ain't really out of doors at all, because it has got a roof on it
and has a floor. It ain't a room exactly nor it ain't a porch. It's a
sort of an inside porch or an outside room. Now, the open side of this
place faces the road; but it is n't open to the road at all, because
there is a lattice-work there covered with vines. This lattice"--he
wet the pencil and set it to work again--"this lattice that closes this
place runs out from the side of the house, but it does n't join to the
corner of the milk-house, because you see that would close this place
all up so that you could n't come in from outside. It comes a distance
away from the corner of the milk-house; and that makes a door so that
you can go out into the yard without going through the kitchen. So you
see, you can go into this inside place without going through the house
at all."

Janet drew closer,