the
jerking scrape of the rockers on the uncarpeted floor sounded loud.
When Jerome opened the door he saw his mother hitching herself
rapidly back and forth in a fashion she had when excited. He had seen
her do so before, a few times.

When she saw Jerome she stopped short and screwed up her face before
him as if to receive a blow. She did not ask a question.

"I met the team comin' home," said Jerome.

Still his mother said nothing, but kept that cringing face before a
coming blow.

"Father wa'n't on it," said Jerome.

Still his mother waited.

"I hitched the horse," said Jerome, "and then I went up to the
ten-acre lot, and I looked everywhere. He ain't there."

Suddenly Ann Edwards seemed to fall back upon herself before his
eyes. Her head sank helplessly; she slipped low in her chair.

Jerome ran to the water-pail, dipped out some water, and sprinkled
his mother's face. Then he rubbed her little lean hands with his
hard, boyish palm. He had seen his mother faint before. In fact, he
had been all prepared for it now.

Presently she began to gasp and struggle feebly, and he knew she was
coming to. "Feel better?" he asked, in a loud voice, as if she were
miles away; indeed, he had a feeling that she was. "Feel better,
mother?"

Mrs. Edwards raised herself. "Your--father has fell down and died,"
she said. "There needn't anybody say anything else. Wipe this water
off my face. Get a towel." Jerome obeyed.

"There needn't anybody say anything else," repeated his mother.

"I guess they needn't, either," assented Jerome, coming with the
towel and wiping her face gently. "I'd like to hear anybody," he
added, fiercely.

"He's fell down--and died," said his mother. She made sounds like
sobs as she spoke, but there were no tears in her eyes.

"I s'pose I ought to go an' take the horse out," said Jerome.

"Well."

"I'll send Elmira in; she's holdin' him."

"Well."

Jerome lighted a candle first, for it was growing dark, and went out.
"You go in and stay with mother," he said to Elmira, "an' don't you
go to cryin' an' makin' her worse--she's been faintin' away. Any tea
in the house?"

"No," said the little girl, trying to control her quivering face.

"Make her some hot porridge, then--she'd ought to have something. You
can do that, can't you?"

Elmira nodded; she dared not speak for fear she should cry.

"Go right in, then," said Jerome; and she obeyed, keeping her face
turned away. Her childish bac