mised him, and showed her a picture once of the plan of
the completed university, with its arch and chapel tower and the great
mechanical shops spreading back across her shady pasture to the borders
of the lake.

Then she learned what the death of "the Governor" had brought upon them;
why the horses had been sold and why there were no more hammers nor
chisels ringing against the stone. The farm was losing a thousand
dollars a day, and the Government had seized upon the money they were
building the monument with and was trying to wrest it entirely from the
woman who had stopped once to pet the brood-mare when "the Governor"
was driving in the yard. These things were hard to understand. There
had never been any question of money here that Bonita could remember.

One day she had nosed vainly for the sugar he used to bring; Craig told
her that for two months he had had no money to give his mother; that if
it wasn't for a grocer in Mayfield who was kind to people in trouble,
they would have had nothing to eat. Bonita, remembering the students she
had seen gathering mushrooms, suggested grass; but he told her,
laughing, that only one man to his knowledge had ever lived that way and
he was a king, long ago, in the holy times. He, Craig, would have to
have money. In an old vest he had worn in the East, his mother found a
few pennies and had walked to Palo Alto and spent them for stamps for
the sake of paying for something. After this explanation, Bonita did not
hunt for sugar.

Although things grew easier after a time, Craig was gloomy enough during
the afternoons when they talked across the fence. Once "the Governor's
Wife" had been given five hundred dollars to pay her servants, and she
had given it to the Overseer for his teachers. But the Overseer had
begun at the houses where there were the most children, and he had not
got around to Craig, who had only a mother. When temptation came to
him, he told Bonita about it and asked her advice. A letter had come to
him with an offer from his old college; it meant a full salary and the
hope of Europe. It was everything to him, he said, but he couldn't bear
to go away. The brood-mare had put her nose affectionately against his
arm. She understood little about the salary, but she knew how dreadful
it would be to leave the pasture. The man must have understood, for
after being quiet a long time and smoking harder than ever, he said that
he was going to stay. But many times after tha