y were human. My, but things is fancy here since what
David planted is growin'! Did you ever live in the country before?"

"No."

"Where do you hail from?"

"Well not from the direction of hail," laughed the Girl. "I lived in
Chicago, but we were----were not rich, and so I didn't know the luxury
of the city; just the lonely, difficult part."

"Do you call Chicago lonely?"

"A thousand times more so than Medicine Woods. Here I know the trees
will whisper to me, and the water laughs and sings all day, and the
birds almost split their throats making music for me; but I can imagine
no loneliness on earth that will begin to compare with being among the
crowds and crowds of a large city and no one has a word or look for you.
I miss the sea of faces and the roar of life; at first I was almost wild
with the silence, but now I don't find it still any more; the Harvester
is teaching me what each sound means and they seem to be countless."

"You think, then, you'll like it here?"

"I do, indeed! Any one would. Even more than the beautiful location, I
love the interesting part of the Harvester's occupation. I really think
that gathering material to make medicines that will allay pain is the
very greatest of all the great work a man can do."

"Good!" cried Granny Moreland, her dark eyes snapping. "I've always
said it! I've tried to encourage David in it. And he's just capital at
puttin' some of his stuff in shape, and combinin' it in as good medicine
as you ever took. This spring I was all crippled up with the rheumatiz
until I wanted to holler every time I had to move, and sometimes it got
so aggravatin' I'm not right sure but I done it. 'Long comes David and
says, 'I can fix you somethin',' and bless you, if the boy didn't take
the tucks out of me, until here I am, and tickled to pieces that I can
get here. This time last year I didn't care if I lived or not. Now seems
as if I'm caperish as a three weeks' lamb. I don't see how a man could
do a bigger thing than to stir up life in you like that."

"I think this place makes an especial appeal to me, because, shortly
before I came, I had to give up my mother. She was very ill and suffered
horribly. Every time I see David going to his little laboratory on
the hill to work a while I slip away and ask God to help him to fix
something that will ease the pain of humanity as I should like to have
seen her relieved."

"Why you poor child! No wonder you are lookin' so thin and pea