foot an' in the air an' even on the coffin;
but, above all else, I recall, movin' among the other people like
somebody from another world, the tall, straight form and sad face of
neighbor King. It was neighbor King who managed everything from the
minute his hand fell upon my shoulder that mornin' until the last limb
was knit into the rough fence around the lonely grave. What would have
happened to me without him?

I'm only a woman--one of the weak ones, I s'pose--for I broke down
entirely the night after poor Micah was buried, Mrs. Challen said I
went crazy; that I'd kneel down at the side of the bed an' cry as if
my heart would break; that again an' again I went to the front door
an' looked up an' down the lonely, treeless road, an' then to the back
door, where I would call "Micah!" "Micah!"--just as I'd been used to
callin' him to his meals, an' I'd listen, with my hand to my ear, to
hear him answer. Last of all, worst of all, she said, I went
staggerin' across the street, an', pushin' through the rough fence,
threw myself upon the grave an' begged of the Great Father to give me
back the dead that had been so much to me when he was living. I don't
wonder at my losing my head. Micah an' I were both so young, an' we
had loved each other so much, as common folks often do, that to lose
him was robbin' my life of all its brightness an' sweetness.

The mornin' after the funeral neighbor King was round bright an'
early, findin' me red-eyed an' weakly.

"Well! well! Mrs. Pyncheon," he began, in what was for him a cheery
voice, "what are we a-goin' to do now besides summin' up a little? Are
we goin' to our relations?"

"No, Mr. King," I answered, havin' thought over the matter a little,
"no, I'm goin' to stay here. I have no relation I want to bother.
Here's the place for me an' Hannah. The farm is paid for, an' all I
have is here an'--an' over there," turnin' my face to the spot where
Micah lay. "If the grasshoppers 'ull let me, I stay."

[Illustration: "THE MORNIN' AFTER THE FUNERAL NEIGHBOR KING WAS ROUND
BRIGHT AN' EARLY."]

"Quite right, madam. Very sensible. But, of course, while you can do a
good deal, you can't work the farm all alone. That's impossible. I've
been givin' the matter some thought, an' intend to help you out, if
you'll let me. Suppose we work it on shares? You name my share, ma'am,
an' I'll take care that my men look after the hard work for you. The
hoppers won't leave much for this year; but what