t think I could explain it to you, Mother."

"That's just the point. Your pa couldn't never explain nothin', neither.
You're readin' and readin' and readin' and you never know what you're
readin' about. Diamonds growin' and births bein' hurried up, and friends
bein' religious and voted for at township elections. Who's runnin' for
friend this year on the Republican ticket?" she inquired, caustically.

Roger managed to force a laugh. "You have your own peculiar way of
putting things, Mother. Is supper ready? I'm as hungry as a bear."

"I suppose you are. When it ain't readin', it's eatin'. Work all day to
get a meal that don't last more'n fifteen minutes, and then see readin'
goin' on till long past bedtime, and oil goin' up every six months.
Which'll you have--fresh apple sauce, or canned raspberries?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Then I'll get the apple sauce, because the canned raspberries can lay
over as long as they're kept cool."

[Sidenote: Miss Mattie's Personal Appearance]

Miss Mattie shuffled back into the kitchen. During the Winter she wore
black knitted slippers attached to woollen inner soles which had no
heels. She was well past the half-century mark, but her face had few
lines in it and her grey eyes were sharp and penetrating. Her smooth,
pale brown hair, which did not show the grey in it, was parted precisely
in the middle. Every morning she brushed it violently with a stiff brush
dipped into cold water, and twisted the ends into a tight knot at the
back of her head. In militant moments, this knot seemed to rise and the
protruding ends of the wire hairpins to bristle into formidable weapons
of offence.

She habitually wore her steel-bowed spectacles half-way down her nose.
They might have fallen off had not a kindly Providence placed a large
wart where it would do the most good. On Sundays, when she put on shoes,
corsets, her best black silk, and her gold-bowed spectacles, she took
great pains to wear them properly. When she reached home, however, she
always took off her fine raiment and laid her spectacles aside with a
great sigh of relief. Miss Mattie's disposition improved rapidly as soon
as the old steel-bowed pair were in their rightful place, resting safely
upon the wart.

[Sidenote: Second-hand Things]

When they sat down to supper, she reverted to the original topic. "As
I was sayin'," she began, "there ain't no sense in the books you and
your pa has always set such store by. Where he ever