re some
crawlers of men ain't to be pleased anyhow, but they can be left out
of it. In givin' advice to young wives, I always tell 'em w'en they
get sick of their husbands, which they all do at times, especially at
the start before you get seasoned to endure them, never to let him
suspect it, for men, in spite of all their wonderful smartness, has a
lot of the child in 'em after all, an' can take a terrible lot of
love. (When it comes to givin' any in return, of course that's a horse
of another colour.) But of course this is only dealin' with a man
that's worth anythink; as I said, there are some crawlers you could
make a door-mat of yourself for, an' they'd dance on you an' think
nothink of it; but as I said before, there must be reason in
everythink to begin with. After Jim died I didn't care for livin' in
the old place, an' thought I'd like to get somewhere near the city.
Old people ought to have sense. They don't want to crawl round like
Methuselah at forty, but they know w'en they git up to seventy they
ain't goin' to live for ever, nor get any suppler in the joints, an'
ought to make some provision to get nearer churches an' doctors an'
all that's necessary to old people; so I sold out an' bought this
place down here."

"What family have you?"

"Only Dawn's mother and Andrew's, and two sons away in America. I was
misfortunate with me daughters; they both died young, one as I told
you, an' the other of typhoid; and so after bein' done with me own
family I started with others. I used to think once I'd be content to
live till I see me little ones grown up an' settled, an' then I wanted
to live till I see Dawn able to take care of herself, an' now I
suppose, if I didn't take care, I'd want to be waitin' to see Dawn's
children around me. That's the way; w'en we get along one step we want
to go another, an' it's good some matters ain't left for us to decide.
But it's all for Dawn and Andrew I bother now, only for them me work
would be done; but it's good to have them, they keep me from feelin'
like a old wore-out dress just hangin' up waitin' to be eat by the
moths."

"Grandma!" said the voice of Dawn in the doorway, "I can't get this
beastly old stove to draw, and I'm blest if I can cook the dinner. I
never saw such a place, one has to work under such terrible
difficulties. It's something fearful." Her voice was cross, and her
facial expression bore further testimony to a state of extreme
irritation.

Grandma ro