the Days this spring.
Janice and Mrs. Day attended to it after it was planted. Mr. Day had
bought a man-weight hoe and seeding machine, and the garden mould was so
fine and free from filth that the "women folks" could use the machine
with ease.

Yes, the Jason Days were more prosperous than ever before. And all their
prosperity did not arise from that twenty dollars a month that came
regularly for Janice's board.

"Sometimes I feel downright ashamed to take that money, Jason," Aunt
'Mira admitted to her spouse. "Janice is sech a help to me. She is jest
like a darter. I shall hate to ever haf ter give her up. And some day
soon, now, Broxton will be comin' home."

"Wal, don't ye worry. If Broxton is makin' money like he says he
is--so's he kin give that gal a thousand dollars to throw to the birdies
like she's done--why should we worry? I ain't sayin' but what she's been
a lot of help to us."

"In more ways than one," whispered his wife.

"Right, by jinks!" admitted the farmer.

"Look what this old place looked like when she come!"

"She sartainly has stirred us all up."

"An' look at Marty!"

"I got to give her credit," admitted Mr. Day. "She's made a man of
Marty. Done more for him than the school done."

"But it was her started him to goin' to school ag'in."

"So I tell ye," agreed Mr. Day again. "Janice is at the bottom of
everything good that's happened in Poketown for two years. I dunno as
people realize it; but I'm proud of her!"

"Then, I tell you what, Jason. I'm going to save the board money for
her," declared Aunt 'Mira, with a little catch in her breath. "You won't
mind? Marty'll have the place an' all you kin save, when we are gone;
but that dear little thing----Givin' her money to that blind child, and
all----"

Mrs. Day broke down and "sniveled." At least, that is what her husband
would have called it under some circumstances, and crying did not
beautify Mrs. Day's fat face. But for some reason the old man came close
to her and put his arms about her bulbous shoulders.

"There, there, 'Mira! don't you cry about it. You sartainly have got a
good heart. An' I won't say nothin' agin' your savin' for the gal.
Mebbe she'll need your savin's, too. Broxton Day is too free-handed,
and he'll have his ups and downs again, p'r'aps. Anyhow, whatever you
say is right, _is_ right, 'Mira," and he kissed her suddenly in a shamed
faced sort of way, and then hurried out.

The good woman sat there in her