nk you, I mean to keep my mouth shut, but would you mind--"

"Git in!" interrupted the old man eagerly. "Hyeh she comes." His kind
old face creased into a welcoming smile, and between the logs of the
mill Hale, inside, could see an old sorrel horse slowly coming through
the lights and shadows down the road. On its back was a sack of corn and
perched on the sack was a little girl with her bare feet in the hollows
behind the old nag's withers. She was looking sidewise, quite hidden by
a scarlet poke-bonnet, and at the old man's shout she turned the smiling
face of little June. With an answering cry, she struck the old nag with
a switch and before the old man could rise to help her down, slipped
lightly to the ground.

"Why, honey," he said, "I don't know whut I'm goin' to do 'bout yo'
corn. Shaft's broke an' I can't do no grindin' till to-morrow."

"Well, Uncle Billy, we ain't got a pint o' meal in the house," she said.
"You jes' got to LEND me some."

"All right, honey," said the old man, and he cleared his throat as a
signal for Hale.

The little girl was pushing her bonnet back when Hale stepped into sight
and, unstartled, unsmiling, unspeaking, she looked steadily at him--one
hand motionless for a moment on her bronze heap of hair and then
slipping down past her cheek to clench the other tightly. Uncle Billy
was bewildered.

"Why, June, hit's Mr. Hale--why---"

"Howdye, June!" said Hale, who was no less puzzled--and still she gave
no sign that she had ever seen him before except reluctantly to give him
her hand. Then she turned sullenly away and sat down in the door of the
mill with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Dumfounded, the old miller pulled the sack of corn from the horse
and leaned it against the mill. Then he took out his pipe, filled and
lighted it slowly and turned his perplexed eyes to the sun.

"Well, honey," he said, as though he were doing the best he could with a
difficult situation, "I'll have to git you that meal at the house. 'Bout
dinner time now. You an' Mr. Hale thar come on and git somethin' to eat
afore ye go back."

"I got to get on back home," said June, rising.

"No you ain't--I bet you got dinner fer yo' step-mammy afore you left,
an' I jes' know you was aimin' to take a snack with me an' ole Hon."
The little girl hesitated--she had no denial--and the old fellow smiled
kindly.

"Come on, now."

Little June walked on the other side of the miller from Hale