, that boy over yonder
with the peg-stick, helped her dig the post-boles, but she done the
rest herself."

"Well, she is pretty clever!" said Redding, almost incredulously, as
he examined the fence and sidewalk. "How old is she?"

"Fourteen, goin' on to fifteen. Asia, come here."

The girl left the flower-bed she was digging, and came forward.

"Not a very big girl, are you?" said Redding, smiling at her. "How
would you like to go up to the tile factory, and learn to do
decorating?"

Her serious face lit up with great enthusiasm; she forgot her
shyness, and said, eagerly: "Oh, yes, sir! Could I?"

Before Redding could answer, Mrs. Wiggs broke in:

"You'd be gittin' a artist, Mr. Bob! Them fingers of hers kin do
anything. Last fall she built that there little greenhouse out of
ole planks, an' kep' it full of flowers all winter; put a lamp in
durin' the cold spell. You orter see the things she's painted. And
talk about mud pictures! She could jes' take some of that there mud
under that hoss's feet, an' make it look so much like you, you
wouldn't know which was which."

Billy's appearance at this moment saved Redding from immediate
disgrace.

"You come to the office with Billy in the morning," he called to
Asia, as they started off; "we'll see what can be done."

Asia went back to her digging with a will; the prospect of work, of
learning how to do things right, and, above all, of learning how to
paint, filled her with happiness.

"If I was you I'd make that bed in the shape of a star," said her
mother, breaking in on her rejections. "Why don't you make it a
mason star? Yer pa was a fine mason; it would be a sort of
compliment to him."

"What is a mason star like?" asked Asia.

"Well, now I ain't right sure whether it 'a got five points or six.
Either way will do. Lands alive, I do believe there comes Miss
Lucy!"

Lucy Olcott had been a frequent visitor of late. Through Mrs. Wiggs
she had gotten interested in Mrs. Schultz, and often stopped in to
read to the bedridden old lady. Here, of course, she heard a great
deal about the Eichorns, the elite of the Cabbage Patch, whose
domestic infelicities furnished the chief interest in Mrs. Schultz's
life. Lucy had even stood on a chair, at the invalid's earnest
request, to count the jars of preserves in the Eichorn pantry. Later
she had become acquainted with Miss Hazy, the patient little woman
in monochrome, whose whole pitiful existence was an apology when it