for Margaret to conceive what the vision
of that room meant to Mom Wallis. The realization of all the dreams of a
starved soul concentrated into a small space; the actual, tangible proof
that there might be a heaven some day--who knew?--since beauties and
comforts like these could be real in Arizona.

Margaret brought the pictures of her father and mother, of her dear home
and the dear old church. She took her about the room and showed her the
various pictures and reminders of her college days, and when she saw
that the poor creature was overwhelmed and speechless she turned her
about and showed her the great mountain again, like an anchorage for her
soul.

Mom Wallis looked at everything speechlessly, gasping as her attention
was turned from one object to another, as if she were unable to rise
beyond her excitement; but when she saw the mountain again her tongue
was loosed, and she turned and looked back at the girl wonderingly.

"Now, ain't it strange! Even that old mounting looks diffrunt--it do
look diffrunt from a room like this. Why, it looks like it got its hair
combed an' its best collar on!" And Mom Wallis looked down with pride
and patted the simple net ruffle about her withered throat. "Why, it
looks like a picter painted an' hung up on this yere wall, that's what
that mounting looks like! It kinda ain't no mounting any more; it's jest
a picter in your room!"

Margaret smiled. "It is a picture, isn't it? Just look at that silver
light over the purple place. Isn't it wonderful? I like to think it's
mine--my mountain. And yet the beautiful thing about it is that it's
just as much yours, too. It will make a picture of itself framed in your
bunk-house window if you let it. Try it. You just need to let it."

Mom Wallis looked at her wonderingly. "Do you mean," she said, studying
the girl's lovely face, "that ef I should wash them there bunk-house
winders, an' string up some posy caliker, an' stuff a chair, an' have a
pin-cushion, I could make that there mounting come in an' set fer me
like a picter the way it does here fer you?"

"Yes, that's what I mean," said Margaret, softly, marveling how the
uncouth woman had caught the thought. "That's exactly what I mean. God's
gifts will be as much to us as we will let them, always. Try it and
see."

Mom Wallis stood for some minutes looking out reflectively at the
mountain. "Wal, mebbe I'll try it!" she said, and turned back to survey
the room again.

And now th