were Lina's.
Her cheeks were flushed again, her eyes shining, and impatience for
life warmed her blood. Lina sat facing her, her hands laid flat on
her knees, and looked at her steadily and patiently out of her small
blue eyes.

"I think," remarked Billy, "we will go and see the cow, the chickens,
and the bees now."

That was it: in this comical blue dress she felt like going about the
farm outside; yes, she was convinced that she would be able to walk
along between the vegetable beds quite as lazily and cheerfully as
Lina. But when she stood up she felt that her legs were stiff and
pained her.

"Oh, no, let us stay here," she said, "and let us talk instead."

But the calm of the big, heated girl facing her made her impatient.
Could one not poke up this calm, as the child Billy had poked up the
small, quiet ant-hills, so that they immediately teemed with excited
life. "Are you not afraid?" asked Billy suddenly.

"Afraid?" answered Lina, "why? Oh, I see, you mean about that; naw,
what is there to be afraid of?"

"But some die of it," Billy went on probing.

Lina drew the back of her hand across her eyes and smiled faintly.
"Yes, some die." The two girls were silent for a time, listening to the
clamor of the canaries. Then Lina began to ask in her deep, somewhat
singing voice, "And yours is gone too?"

Billy blushed. "Yes, gone," she murmured uncertainly.

Lina sighed. "Yes," she said, "men are a cross, they always go away.
That's what happens to all of us."

Billy was silent, but it was like security and peace to her, this "us"
which placed her in the ranks of the girls who with calmness and
strength take the burden of life upon them.

The rumble of a wagon was heard outside. Immediately thereafter the old
man appeared in the door with a whip in his hand, saying, "We can start
now, young lady." Billy had to put on a very large yellow straw hat,
and then they drove away.

The little wagon rattled violently, the heavy white horse trotted
along imperturbably, patiently shaking off the gadflies that circled
about him. The little bells fastened to his harness tinkled a sleepily
monotonous tune. For a time the wagon continued to roll through the fir
nursery as between quiet blue walls, then the forest came to an end,
and the high road was before them and broad fields. Over all of it lay
a hot, pale yellow dust-film. The countryside seemed to Billy so
awesomely bare. "We see no people," she said.

The old man