was an elderly woman, sitting in a wagon with mail bags
piled around her. Two hundred would have been a charitable guess at her
weight; her face was as round and red as a harvest-moon and almost
as featureless. She wore a tight, black, cashmere dress, made in the
fashion of ten years ago, a little dusty black straw hat trimmed with
bows of yellow ribbon, and faded black lace mits.

"Here, you," she called, waving her whip at Anne. "Are you the new
Valley Road schoolma'am?"

"Yes."

"Well, I thought so. Valley Road is noted for its good-looking
schoolma'ams, just as Millersville is noted for its humly ones. Janet
Sweet asked me this morning if I could bring you out. I said, 'Sartin
I kin, if she don't mind being scrunched up some. This rig of mine's
kinder small for the mail bags and I'm some heftier than Thomas!' Just
wait, miss, till I shift these bags a bit and I'll tuck you in somehow.
It's only two miles to Janet's. Her next-door neighbor's hired boy is
coming for your trunk tonight. My name is Skinner--Amelia Skinner."

Anne was eventually tucked in, exchanging amused smiles with herself
during the process.

"Jog along, black mare," commanded Mrs. Skinner, gathering up the reins
in her pudgy hands. "This is my first trip on the mail rowte. Thomas
wanted to hoe his turnips today so he asked me to come. So I jest sot
down and took a standing-up snack and started. I sorter like it. O'
course it's rather tejus. Part of the time I sits and thinks and the
rest I jest sits. Jog along, black mare. I want to git home airly.
Thomas is terrible lonesome when I'm away. You see, we haven't been
married very long."

"Oh!" said Anne politely.

"Just a month. Thomas courted me for quite a spell, though. It was real
romantic." Anne tried to picture Mrs. Skinner on speaking terms with
romance and failed.

"Oh?" she said again.

"Yes. Y'see, there was another man after me. Jog along, black mare. I'd
been a widder so long folks had given up expecting me to marry again.
But when my darter--she's a schoolma'am like you--went out West to teach
I felt real lonesome and wasn't nowise sot against the idea. Bime-by
Thomas began to come up and so did the other feller--William Obadiah
Seaman, his name was. For a long time I couldn't make up my mind which
of them to take, and they kep' coming and coming, and I kep' worrying.
Y'see, W.O. was rich--he had a fine place and carried considerable
style. He was by far the best match. Jog