sts
you one;--an' Mrs. Hewlet, dat screetchin' ain' gwine help none!"

Holding back the door for Nancy to pass, Timmie watched with grim
satisfaction Tom's exit from the kitchen; and after they reached the
buggy, both kept their eyes on him as he tramped through the orchard and
disappeared over the hill. The black frame now began to shake.

"You kin go on back now, ef you wants to," she chuckled.

"Why, I thought something awful was about to happen!"

"So dar wuz sumfin awful 'bout to happen, an' happenin'," the old woman
laughed. "But I done put de squee-gee on dat! I hyeerd de fracas, an'
hyeerd what he uz sayin', an' knowed jest 'bout how-cum 'twuz."

"Oh, Aunt Timmie," the girl impulsively cried, "if everyone had your
good heart!"

"Mah heart ain' nuthin' to brag on, chile. I jest happen to know dat in
dis worl' dey's wicked people dat'll stoop deeper'n sin fer a dime; an'
dey's onery people, so mis'ably onery, dat's afeerd to call dey soul dey
own; an' dar's still anurr kind what ain' had no trainin', so when a
stylish gemman comes 'long dey's mighty apt to go wrong, 'caze dey ain'
had a faih show. Now, I reckon, I most named all de fambly;--I ain'
sayin' what fambly, but I is sayin' dat ole Timmie knows moh'n most
pussons reckons she do. 'Sides dat, she kin find moh 'xcuses in her
heart den de worl' kin. Run 'long, now! I jest stepped in 'caze a li'l
gal warn't gittin' a faih show!"

"Oh, Aunt Timmie," the girl cried, "I ain't bad! But that beast wouldn't
care, if he could make them pay more for his farm!"

A strangely beautiful light swept across the wrinkled face.

"Look up at me, chile, an' say dat fu'st agin!"

Nancy raised her flushed cheeks and gazed into the age-marked eyes of
her black inquisitor. Then slowly she repeated:

"I ain't bad, Aunt Timmie!"

A deep sigh, like the passing of cave winds, came from the old woman's
throat.

"Praise de Lawd," she murmured. "I see now you'se not, honey; but jest
why is too much fer me. Run 'long befoh Aunt Timmie make a fool of
herse'f. Dat man's oudacious wickedness is got to be stopped--but you
leave dat to me! Some day I'se gwine send fer you, an' you'se comin'
widout axin' why. Heah dat? Run 'long, now; an' Gawd bress de li'l
lamb!"

There was a riot of confusion in her mind as she climbed back into the
buggy and scolded the old mule until he awoke--or pretended to awake.
The universe as she had arranged it, as she had fitted it together into
a m