He
looked at his watch. What a joy to see its face! He would still have
time to do the report, if he hurried a little. He began to rise by
painful stages.

"Lemme see! The last thing I done was to open the sideboa'd an' cut
a piece o' pie an' eat it. I _must_ o' had my glasses on then. I
ricollec' it was sweet-potato pie, an' it was scorched on one side.
Lordy! but what a pleasure it is to look for a thing when a person
_can_ look!" He crossed over to the sideboard.

"Yas"--he had opened the door and was cutting another piece of pie.
"Yas. Sweet-potato pie, an' burnt on one side--the side thet's left.
Yas, an' I'll leave it ag'in!" He chuckled as he took a deep bite.

"Of co'se I _must 'a'_ had 'em on _when I cut the pie_, or I couldn't
've _saw_ it so distinc'--'an I finished that slice a-settin' down
talkin' to her at the sewin'-machine. Ricollec' I told _her_ how mother
used to put cinnamon in hers. I'll go set there ag'in, an' maybe by
lookin' 'round--They might 'a' dropped in her darnin'-basket."

It was while he sat here, running one hand through the basket and
holding the slice of pie in the other, that he heard a step, and,
looking up, he saw his wife standing in the door.

"Why, Ephraim! What on earth!" she exclaimed. "I lef you there eatin'
that pie fo' hours ago, an' I come back an' find you settin' there yet!
You cert'n'y 'ain't forgot to make out yo' report?"

"Forgot nothin', Maria." He swallowed laboriously as he spoke. "I 'ain't
done a thing sence you been gone but look for my glasses--not a blame
thing. An' I'm a-lookin' for 'em yet."

Mrs. Bradley was frightened. She walked straight up to her husband and
took his hand. "Ephraim," she said, gently, and as she spoke she drew
the remainder of the pie from his yielding fingers--"Ephraim, I
wouldn't eat any mo' o' that heavy pie ef I was you. You ain't well.
Ef you can't make no mo' headway'n that on yo' favor_ite_ pie in fo'
hours, you're shorely goin' to be took sick." She took her handkerchief
and wiped his forehead. And then she added, with a sweet, wifely
tenderness: "To prove to you thet you ain't well, honey, yo' glasses
are on yo' nose right now. You better go lay down."

Bradley looked straight into her face for some moments, but he did not
even blink. Then he said, in an awe-stricken voice: "Ef what you say
is true, Maria--an' from the clairness with which I see the serious
expression of yo' countenance I reckon it must be so--ef it _is_