a tough piece
of leather. She was making the strap to peddle shortwood, and a
happier girl never breathed.

Peg watched her without comment as Lafe fitted the strap about her
shoulders. In fact, there was nothing for the woman to say, when the
violet eyes were fixed questioningly upon her. Peggy thought of the
hunger which would be bound to come if any hands were idle, so she
muttered in excuse, "There's nothin' like gettin' used to a thing."

"It's a fine strap, isn't it, Lafe?" asked the girl, "It's almost as
good as a cart."

"You can't use a cart in the underbrush," explained Lafe. "That's why
the twig gatherers use straps."

"I see," murmured Jinnie.

When the cobbler and girl were once more alone together, they had a
serious confab. They decided that every penny Jinnie brought in should
go to enriching the house, and the girl's eyes glistened as she heard
the shoemaker list over the things that would make them comfortable.

Most delightful thoughts came to endow the girl's mental world, which
now reached from the cobbler's shop to the marsh, over a portion of
the city, and back again. It was rosy-hued, bright, sparkling with
the pennies and nickels she intended to earn. All her glory would come
with the aid of that twig gatherer's leather strap. She looked down
upon it with a proud toss of her head. Jinnie was recovering the
independent spirit which had dominated her when she had wandered alone
on the hills away to the north.

"I wouldn't wonder if I'd make fifteen cents some days," she remarked
later at the supper table.

"If you make ten, you'll be doin' well, an' you and Lafe'll probably
bust open with joy if you do," snapped Peg. "Oh, Lord, I'm gettin'
sick to my stomick hearin' you folks brag. Go to bed now, kid, if
you're to work to-morrow."

Jinnie fell asleep to dream that her hand was full of pennies, and her
pockets running over with nickels. She was just stooping to pick up
some money from the sidewalk when Peg's voice pierced her ear,

"Kid," said she, "it's mornin', an' your first workin' day. Now hurry
your lazy bones an' get dressed."

CHAPTER IX

BY THE SWEAT OF HER BROW

Over the bridge into Paradise Road went the lithe, buoyant figure of a
girl, a loose strap hanging from one straight shoulder. Jinnie was
radiantly happy, for her first day had netted the family twenty cents,
and if Paradise Road had been covered with eggs, she would not have
broken many in her flight hom