the
floor beside him made a brotherly grab at one of young Pike's pink feet
in the most manifest interest.

"Well, if this just ain't filling at the price," said the widow as she
settled herself in the rocker, and Mother Mayberry established herself
in one opposite, while Miss Wingate elected to remain on the step by
the babies. "I left Pattie over to my house helping Clara May get a
little weed-pulling outen 'Lias and Henny in my garden. Buck Peavey
have just passed by looking like the last of pea-time and the first of
frost. I do declare it were right down funny to see Pattie toss her
head at him, and them boys both giggled out loud. He ain't spoke to
Pattie for a week 'cause she sang outen Sam Mosbey's hymn-book last
Wednesday night at prayer meeting. He've got a long-meter doxology face
for sure."

"And he's a-suffering, too," answered Mother Mayberry with the utmost
sympathy in her placid face at the troubles of her favorite, Buck, the
lover. "To some folks love is a kinder inflammatory rheumatism of the
soul and a-deserving of pity."

A vision of a girl at a college commencement with her nose buried in a
pink peony, looking up and smiling, flashed across the consciousness of
the singer lady and she pressed her head between little Hoover's chubby
shoulders, and acknowledged herself a fit subject for sympathy. To go
and not even think of telling her good-by was cruel, and a forlorn
little sob stifled itself in the mite's pink apron.

"Well, folks," broke in the widow's cheerful voice that somehow
reminded one of peaches and cream, "I come over to-day to get a little
help and encouragement about planning the wedding. I knowed Miss
Elinory would think it up stylish for me and Mis' Mayberry would lend
her head to help fitting notions to what can be did. Mr. Hoover's
clover hay will be laid by next week and he says they ain't nothing
more to keep us back. I've sewed up four bolts of light caliker, two of
domestic, one of blue jeans, and three of gingham into a trousseau for
us all to wear on the wedding trip, and Mr. Petway are a-going to take
measures and bring out new shoes and tasty hats all 'round, next wagon,
trip to town. I think we will make a nice genteel show."

"Are you-going to take everybody on the trip?" asked Miss Wingate,
roused out of her woe by the very idea of the tour in the company of
the seventeen.

"That we are," responded the widow heartily, "but not all to onct.
We'll have to make two bi