ked at her for a moment, and then answered with a burst of
tears, "Gawd knows, child, Gawd knows."

The girl stepped back astonished. "Why, why!" and then with a rush of
tenderness she threw her arms about her mother's neck. "Oh, you 're
tired to death," she said; "that 's what 's the matter with you. Never
mind about the house now. I 've got some tea made for you, and you just
take a cup."

Fannie sat down and tried to drink her tea, but she could not. It stuck
in her throat, and the tears rolled down her face and fell into the
shaking cup. Joe looked on silently. He had been out and he understood.

"I 'll go out to-morrow and do some looking around for a house while you
stay at home an' rest, ma."

Her mother looked up, the maternal instinct for the protection of her
daughter at once aroused. "Oh, no, not you, Kitty," she said.

Then for the first time Joe spoke: "You 'd just as well tell Kitty now,
ma, for she 's got to come across it anyhow."

"What you know about it? Whaih you been to?"

"I 've been out huntin' work. I 've been to Jones's bahbah shop an' to
the Continental Hotel." His light-brown face turned brick red with anger
and shame at the memory of it. "I don't think I 'll try any more."

Kitty was gazing with wide and saddening eyes at her mother.

"Were they mean to you too, ma?" she asked breathlessly.

"Mean? Oh Kitty! Kitty! you don't know what it was like. It nigh killed
me. Thaih was plenty of houses an' owned by people I 've knowed fu'
yeahs, but not one of 'em wanted to rent to me. Some of 'em made excuses
'bout one thing er t' other, but de res' come right straight out an'
said dat we 'd give a neighbourhood a bad name ef we moved into it. I
've almos' tramped my laigs off. I 've tried every decent place I could
think of, but nobody wants us."

The girl was standing with her hands clenched nervously before her. It
was almost more than she could understand.

"Why, we ain't done anything," she said. "Even if they don't know any
better than to believe that pa was guilty, they know we ain't done
anything."

"I 'd like to cut the heart out of a few of 'em," said Joe in his
throat.

"It ain't goin' to do no good to look at it that a-way, Joe," his mother
replied. "I know hit 's ha'd, but we got to do de bes' we kin."

"What are we goin' to do?" cried the boy fiercely. "They won't let us
work. They won't let us live anywhaih. Do they want us to live on the
levee an' steal, like some of '