.

"My dad is more of a man than Senator Keith," she said to herself,
"for all his fine clothes and his big house. He was nothing but a
heeler for the party, and was made Senator because there was no dirty
job that he would not do to get votes for them. I know how he bought
liquor for the Galicians and brought them in by the car-load to vote,
like cattle, and that's blue blood, is it? Sure it is--you can see it
in his shot-silk face and his two bad old eyes swollen like oysters!
If the doctor wants him he can have him, and it's blamed little
frettin' I'll do!... My dad eats with his knife, does he? All right,
he bought the knife with honest money, and he earned what's on it too.
All the dirty money they have would not buy him, or make him do a mean
trick to any one. I am not ashamed of him--he suits me, and he can go
on eating with his knife and wearing his overalls and doing anything
he wants to do. He suits me!"

When Pearl went back to the kitchen, her father was taking off his
smock. Supper was ready, and he and Teddy had just come in. The dust
of the fanning-mill was on his face and his clothes. His unmittened
hands were red and rough, and bore traces of the work he had been
doing. In his hair were some of the seeds and straws blown out by the
mill. There was nothing very attractive about John Watson, unless it
was his kindly blue eye and the humorous twist of his mouth, but
in Pearl's heart there was a fierce tenderness for her father, a
protective love which glorified him in her eyes.

"Did you hear the news, pa," she cried, as she impulsively threw her
arms around his neck. "Did you know that I am going to speak in the
school, and they are all coming out to hear me. Are you glad, Pa, and
do you think I can do it?"

Her burning cheek was laid close to his, and he patted her shoulder
lovingly.

"Do I think you can do it, Pearlie, that I do--you can do whatever you
go at--I always knew that."

"Pearl, child," cried her mother, "don't be hugging your Pa like that,
and you with your good dress on; don't you see the dust and dirt on
him--you will ruin your clothes child."

Pearl kissed him again, and gave him one more hug, before she said,
"It is clean dirt, Ma, and it will brush off, and I just couldn't
wait; but sure and it's clean dirt anyway."

"It is gettin' colder," said John Watson, as he hung up his smock
behind the door, "our Spring is over for awhile, I think. I saw two
geese leggin' it back as fa