was proud because he could paint
such pictures of his own, and wanted him to? You said he had been
pierced with it"--she was talking to herself now--"he will come back."

"He will come back."

"Who are you?" she said, her Basin eyes turned clear and full upon me.
"You let them call you my servant!"

"Not because I was afflicted with humility, but because I was proud and
happy to be that. And because it was a good joke: you do not mind my
enjoying a good joke, I hope? Then you do not know how happy it made
me; I have had so much done for me, and have been so little useful."

Vesty was not satisfied. Her clear, impersonal gaze held me with a
look fearless of its compassion, single and direct.

"I wish you would not leave the Basin," she said. "I am never--I am
never happy when you are away."

"God bless you, my little girl!" I said, and hobbled away to finish the
housework, but my heart seemed to take on a pair of pure white wings,
like dove's wings. I forgot withal that I was lame.

XI

ANOTHER NAIL

"Chipadees sing pretty," said Captain Pharo, drawing a match along the
leg of his trousers and lighting his pipe, as we stood amid the song of
birds in the lane--"but robins is noisy creeturs, always at the same
old tune--poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal--

[Illustration: Music fragment: "'My days are as the grass, Or as--'"]

he paused there, having his pipe well going.

"Yes," said I, gulping down some unworthy emotions of my own; "yes,
indeed."

"Come down to see ef ye wouldn't like t' go up t' the Point with us, t'
git a nail put in the hoss's shu-u?"

"Oh, yes, thank you! by all means," I replied.

"My woman heered--poo! poo!--

[Illustration: Music fragment: "'Or as the morn-ing flow'r,']

--she heered 't there was goin' to be a show up thar' to-night--some
play-actor folks. 'Ten Nights in a Ba-ar Room'"--the captain took the
pipe out of his mouth and yawned with affected unconcern. "I've heered
o' worse names for a show; but ye know what women-folks is when there
's any play-actin' around. They're jest like sheep next to a turnip
patch."

"Are they?"

"Oh, by clam! ye don't know nothin' 'bout female grass yit,
major--nothin'. Bars can't shet 'em out." I followed his sad gaze to
the west, and we sighed in unison.

"By the way, how 's your show stock gittin' along, major?"

"My show stock?"

"Why, sartin; we thinks all the more on ye, ef that c'd be, for havin'
some business. Y