le spot."

It was hurting, despite the Modern Miracle, and I closed my eyes to
bear it better. Over me, away off, as if from the heavens, I heard a
sonorous rumble of mystery words. I felt a hand softly stroking my
brow. But I didn't care. It was only Dutch, a foolish charm, a
heritage of barbarity and ignorance, but I was too weary to protest.
It entertained John Shadrack's widow, and I was going to sleep.

Tip was waiting for me to awake.

"I've got the mule," he said, when I opened my eyes, "and I thought you
was never goin' to quit sleepin'; I thought the widder was joshin' me
when she said you was all right; I thought mebbe she had drumpt it, she
sees so much in dreams."

"What day is this?" I asked.

"Sunday," Tip answered. "I 'low we'll start at daybreak to-morrow, and
by sundown we'll be in Six Stars."

"In Six Stars!" said I. "I thought you'd left Six Stars forever."

"That ain't here nor there," he snapped. "I've got to git you back."

"Then you won't go to-morrow," said I. "Look here--I can just lift my
hands to my head--that's all. It'll take a whole week's powwowing to
get me to sit up even."

"What did I tell you, Tip?" cried John Shadrack's widow. She handed me
a piece of gingerbread just to chew on till she got some breakfast for
me, and while I munched it, Tip and I argued it out.

"Nanny'll think I've left her," Tip said.

"You did, Tip," said I. "You ran away forever."

"She'll be gittin' married agin," pleaded Tip.

"Serves you right," said I. Then, to myself, "Not unless the other
man's an utter stranger."

"She hasn't enough wood chopped to last a week," said Tip.

"She chopped the last wood-pile herself," said I.

"There's Cevery," pleaded Tip. "Cevery never done me no harm, and
who'll dandle him?"

"The same good soul that dandled him the day you rode over the
mountain," I answered.

"But it's a good half mile from our house to the spring," Tip said,
"and who'll carry the water?"

"Earl and Pearl and Alice Eliza," I replied. "They've always done it;
why worry now?"

"Well, I don't care nohow," Tip cried, stamping the floor. "I want to
go back to Black Log."

"So do I, Tip," I said; "but--there's that bad spot on my head again."

"Now see what you've done with your argyin', Tip Pulsifer," cried the
old woman, running to me. "Poor thing--ain't the Miracle workin'?"

"I guess it is, but that's an awful bad spot--that's right, Widow,
powwow it."