n'. Most of his men folks died when they
was about his age. Suthin' the matter with the fam'ly that causes 'em to
drop off along about then."

"Singular, isn't it?"

"Mighty curious."

"Couldn't the doctors do anything for them. Not that I care, you
understand, but it's interesting as a--"

"No, somehow the doctors was always called in too late. Ma'm, Jim tells
me he's goin' home."

"Did he tell you just now when you must have met him in the road?"

"No. Jest now when I met him he didn't say nothin', but he looked at me
and his eye was a hummin' of a tune."

"And when he comes back," she said, half musingly, "he may tell you what
tune he was humming."

"Hah!"

"Wait till he comes back."

The old man, shrewder than she was aware, left off his work and at her
looked a droll inquiry. She met his gaze. "Ma'm, you don't mean that
with all yo' finery you--"

With a gesture she cut him short, "Don't talk that way, Mr. Starbuck. He
comes to me a religion typified, and I would rather walk over a stony
road with him than to ride in a chariot with any other human being."

The old man laughed and shook his head. "Oh, I know'd it as soon as I
seed his eye a hummin' of a tune, an' I said to myse'f, 'at last the
gate has been opened for him.'"

"But please don't say a word about it to anybody, Mr. Starbuck. Let the
result come as a surprise."

"I won't, but when does the--"

"Oh, I mustn't tell you that. I want to surprise you, too."

"All right. I reckon I'm the easiest man to surprise you ever come
across."

She came closer to him. "Let me turn for you--Uncle Jasper."

He slapped his leg and laughed. "Uncle Jasper! Now that do sound like
music, don't it? No, you better not turn this here grind-stone. You mout
git splashed."

She took the crank from him and began laboriously to turn it. "Down in
Maine where I came from I used to turn for the men when they ground
their scythes--just for fun."

"Yes, fun for them that seed you do it, I reckon. Maine--Maine. That
whar they uster burn witches?"

"Oh, no, they never burned any witches in Maine."

"Why, couldn't they ketch 'em?"

"Oh, they never burned any witches in this country, Uncle Jasper. That's
all a fable."

The old man pondered as if searching in his mind for a forgotten name.
"But," said he, "they uster burn them fellers--fellers that done sorter
this way," and he began to shake his shoulders.

"Oh, you mean Quakers."

"Yes, Quakers."

"Yes,