pinks and
jonquils.

But even in those young years Pansy had little time to look out of
windows and to dream of anything. She must help, she must work;
for she was the oldest of five children, and the others followed so
closely that they pushed her out of her garments. A hardy,
self-helpful child life, bravened by necessities, never undermined
by luxuries. For very dolls Pansy used small dried gourds, taking
the big round end of the gourd for the head of the doll and all the
rest of the gourd for all the rest of the body.

One morning when she was fourteen, the other children were clinging
with tears to her in a poor, darkened room--she to be little mother
to them henceforth: they never clung in vain.

That same autumn when woods were turning red and wild grapes
turning black and corn turning yellow, a cherished rockaway drawn
by a venerated horse, that tried to stop for conversation on the
highroad whenever he passed a neighbor's vehicle, rattled out on
the turnpike with five children in it and headed for town: Pansy
driving, taking herself and the rest to the public school. For
years thereafter, through dark and bright days, she conveyed that
nest of hungry fledglings back and forth over bitter and weary
miles, getting their ravenous minds fed at one end of the route,
and their ravenous bodies fed at the other. If the harness broke,
Pansy got out with a string. If the horse dropped a shoe, or
dropped himself, Pansy picked up what she could. In town she drove
to the blacksmith shop and to all other shops whither business
called her. Her friends were the blacksmith and the tollgate
keeper, her teachers--all who knew her and they were few: she had
no time for friendships. At home the only frequent visitor was
Ambrose Webb, and Pansy did not care for Ambrose. The first time
she remembered seeing him at dinner, she--a very little girl--had
watched his throat with gloomy fascination. Afterward her mother
told her he had an Adam's apple; and Pansy, working obscurely at
some problem of theology, had secretly taken down the Bible and
read the story of Adam and the fearful fruit. Ambrose became
associated in her mind with the Fall of Man; she disliked the
proximity.

No time for friendships. Besides the labors at school, there was
the nightly care of her father on her return, the mending of his
clothes; there was the lonely burning of her candle far into the
night as she toiled over lessons. When she had l