state man about the value of land the
other day, and he said you could realize six thousand dollars on your
place any day."

"Six--thousand--dollars?"

"Yes, six thousand dollars."

"Why, that's just what we had in Atchison!"

"Well, I guess there's no question but that you could get that for your
land to-morrow."

It had indeed been an eventful day, and it was followed by a sleepless
night. For years little Mrs. Nancy had had one great wish, and suddenly
it was to be fulfilled. She could go home--home to New England, to the
village where she was born, to the village where everybody knew her,
where they would talk of Willie. Through the hours of the night, which
sped fast, she thought and thought of the home-coming. She passed in
review all her old neighbors, forgetting for the moment how many would
be found missing; she wandered in spirit through the familiar pastures,
beneath the green trees, beside the pond at the foot of the hill.
Suddenly a strange suggestion intruded itself upon her thoughts. Must it
not be "kind o' damp" with all that swamp land so near by, and the great
elm-trees so close about the house? Her house no longer, however. It had
passed into the hands of strangers--city people, whom she did not know.
She wondered where she should live. She should want to be independent,
and she should hate to "board out."

But with the alloy of perplexity her radiant visions faded, and she fell
asleep. For the first time in all these years the milkman found locked
doors. He would not disturb the "little widdy," but when he had left the
can upon the back steps he turned away, feeling somewhat aggrieved.

The next morning, after her house was set in order and her marketing
done, Mrs. Nancy sat herself down in her porch to darn her stockings.
She had formed the habit, for Willie's sake, of doing all the work
possible out in the air and sunshine, and she still clung to all the
habits that were associated with him. Her weekly darning was a trifling
piece of work, for every hole which ventured to make its appearance in
those little gray stockings was promptly nipped in the bud.

The water was merrily flowing in the irrigating ditch, a light breeze
was rustling in the cotton woods before the door, while the passing
seemed particularly brisk. Two small boys went cantering by on one
bareback horse; a drove of cattle passed the end of the street two or
three rods away, driven by mounted cow-boys; a collection of small