HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 311 



stove no bigger than a toy stood her blackened 

 coffee pot. She had a rough homemade table 

 in one corner; her chair was a cracker-box on 

 end, and squeezed in beside the table was a nar- 

 row bed with drawn ropes for springs. We 

 were welcome, though we had to stand up for 

 our call because there was nothing to sit upon. 

 "Ain't it sure a powerful pretty mornin'?" 

 she said. "I've been watchin' it sence sun-up, 

 through the trees. Sunday, ain't it? I knowed 

 it was. A body ought to go to meetin' Sun- 

 days. I used to go; but it seems like when a 

 woman gits as old as me she don't always have 

 clothes. I ain't got none but this dress I got 

 on. But if I don't go to meetin' I kin stay 

 home an' be thankful. Ain't a person got a 

 lot to be thankful fer? I got my health, an* I 

 got my home. The' ain't no reason fer any- 

 body bein' good to an old woman like me ; but 

 they are. A lady in town done give me that 

 stove yest'd'y, an' I packed it over the moun- 

 tain. It's been terrible unhandy, cookin' my 

 victuals on a chip fire outdoors. Sence Jake 

 died it's kind o' hard fer me to git work some- 

 times; but I'm piecin' a quilt that I'll git a 

 dollar fer when it's done. It's sort o' slow, 

 'count of my fingers bein' so old an' stiff; but 



