40 SUMMEE IN A BOG. 



eyes. On her arm she carries a white wieke-r 

 basket with a lid. 



I recognize her as the housekeeper of a 

 wealthy old bachelor land-owner in the neigh- 

 borhood. Doubtless she counts on a lift in some 

 one 's vehicle to take her into town, so I decide 

 to be her good providence. 



"Good day. Do n't you want to ride? Go- 

 ing into town, I suppose?" 



"Thank ye. Do n't keer 'f I do. This yere 

 basket hain 't so orful light. It 's eggs. Takin' 

 'em inter town to sell 'em. An' I reckon on 

 payin' my doctor bill, too. My! It do seem 

 good to be around oncet again." 



"Been sick?" She is so fat and rosy, it is 

 hard to associate her with a sick-bed. She is 

 still breathing laboredly after the exertion of 

 climbing in. She takes time to recover her 

 proper articulation. 



"My shoulder an' ribs. Hain't sure as any 

 bones was broke, but I got all pounded an ' sore. 

 It were a narrer escape." 



"How did it happen?" 



' ' Hain 't you heerd ? ' ' Her voice had a note 

 of shrill astonishment. "Well, 't was this-a- 

 way: I was a-takin' a short cut acrost the 

 field, fur I wus in a hurry an' never thought o' 

 noticin' nothink, when the old man run me an' 

 knocked me down. I had clear forgot the old 

 man, I had." 



