used to sell. Her first
failure came in the case of a young man. He was Jim Dodge, Fanny's
brother. Jim Dodge was a sort of Ishmael in the village estimation,
and yet he was liked. He was a handsome young fellow with a wild
freedom of carriage. He had worked in the chair factory to support
his mother and sister, before it closed. He haunted the woods, and
made a little by selling skins. He had brought as his contribution to
the fair a beautiful fox skin, and when the young woman essayed to
buy that he strode forward. "That is not for sale," said he. "I beg
you to accept that as a gift, Miss Orr."

The young fellow blushed a little before the girl's blue eyes,
although he held himself proudly. "I won't have this sold to a young
lady who is buying as much as you are," he continued.

The girl hesitated. Then she took the skin. "Thank you, it is
beautiful," she said.

Jim's mother sidled close to him. "You did just right, Jim," she
whispered. "I don't know who she is, but I feel ashamed of my life.
She can't really want all that truck. She's buying to help. I feel as
if we were a parcel of beggars."

"Well, she won't buy that fox skin to help!" Jim whispered back
fiercely.

The whole did not take very long. Finally the girl talked in a low
voice to Mrs. Black who then became her spokeswoman. Mrs. Black now
looked confident, even triumphant. "Miss Orr says of course she can't
possibly use all the cake and pies and jelly," she said, "and she
wants you to take away all you care for. And she wants to know if
Mrs. Whittle will let the other things stay here till she's got a
place to put them in. I tell her there's no room in my house."

"I s'pose so," said Mrs. Whittle in a thick voice. She and many
others looked fairly pale and shocked.

Mrs. Solomon Black, the girl and the minister went out.

The hush continued for a few seconds. Then Mrs. Whittle spoke.
"There's something wrong about that girl," said she. Other women
echoed her. The room seemed full of feminine snarls.

Jim Dodge turned on them, and his voice rang out. "You are a lot of
cats," said he. "Come on home, mother and Fanny, I am mortal shamed
for the whole of it. That girl's buying to help, when she can't want
the things, and all you women turning on her for it!"

After the Dodges had gone there was another hush. Then it was broken
by a man's voice, an old man's voice with a cackle of derision and
shrewd amusement in it. "By gosh!" said this voice, res