knacks!" was an observation with which even his chance
acquaintances were unduly familiar. How often, then, must his poor
wife have heard it.

Pitying her halting effort to give a good excuse for not having the
sum needed--when they were so wealthy--and still loyally shield her
tyrant, I said: "I'm sure the witnesses will not be at all hard on us;
they will be willing to wait a little if necessary, don't you think
so, Jessie?"

But before Jessie could reply, Joe interposed: "Mr. Wilson, he done
say he goin' gib me a chance for to wuck for him w'en I wants to;
mebbe I goin' want ter wuck out dem witness fee; no tellin'."

This was ambiguous, but we well understood that the old man did not
like to talk of business matters before strangers--as he regarded
every one outside the immediate family.

"Your first notice came out along in the spring, didn't it?" Mrs.
Horton inquired.

"In April," Jessie replied, and was silent, a dreamy look in her eyes,
while I vividly recalled the stormy day when father came back from a
visit to the post-office with the paper containing the first notice in
his hand. I heard the April rain beating against the window panes
while father told us children--for Jessie and I were children then; it
was so long ago, measured by heart-beats, oh! so long ago--that our
notice was out and the witnesses named.

Joe broke a little silence by remarking: "Dere's ten acres ob as fine
w'eat as ebber growed out doahs, a waitin' to be cut an' threshed
atwixt dat day an' dis."

"Ten acres!" Mrs. Horton echoed. "What a help that'll be to you! I do
hope you'll get it taken care of all right."

"I'se goin' tek keer ob hit; yo' needn't fur to fret about dat. I'se
goin' at hit, hammer an' tongs, day arter to-morry mornin'."

"Why not to-morrow?" Jessie inquired eagerly; "Leslie and I can help
you."

"I reckons dere can't nobody help me much w'en I'se done got a broken
reaper to wuck with."

"Oh, that's too bad! How long will it take to get it fixed?" Jessie
asked.

"I'se done get hit fixed to-morry, sure, den--we see."

"Leslie and I will help you," Jessie repeated. "The wheat is worth
more than any sewing that we can do. If we can get it marketed it will
pay up all our bills, nearly, won't it, Joe?"

"I spec' maybe hit will, honey," Joe returned, grinning complacently.
"Doan you chillen fret about nothin'," he continued earnestly. "Dem
bills all goin' be paid up, clean to de handle."

I confess that