of her supply of socks and her
implements,--her needle-book' and darning-gourd and balls of cotton.
She had that look of comfort that fat people seem to radiate even when
it is evident that physical annoyance is their own share.

[Illustration: "Pink roses and red swung to and fro in the sunshine as
they climbed the doctor's whitewashed porch"]

Discomfort had no part in the picture that Mrs. Morgan presented,
however, for a cool breeze gently ruffled her hair, and her eyes, when
she lifted them from her work, rested contentedly on the fertile fields
of the Doctor's farm, which were thriving, under Bob's management. She
nodded with, pursed-up lips, as she wove her little lattices in heel
and toe.

"He's doing better than ever Ah thought he would," she murmured.
"Better, even, than Ah dared to hope,--thank God!"

Up and down, over and under, in and out went her needle.

"It's such a joy to Henry to have him so."

The scissors snipped a thread at the end of a darn, and a new hole
displayed its ravage over the yellow surface of the gourd.

"It's been going on some months now, bless him! Ah'd like to know how
he started in. Ah believe mahself it's Sydney."

The work sank into her lap for a space, while her shrewd eyes roamed
over the fields, and sought Buck Mountain beyond, thrusting its topmost
clump of chestnut-trees against the sky. She nodded to her thoughts as
she picked up the unfinished sock.

"She's a wise mother who knows where her son ties his horse, and Ah
confess Ah haven't always known, but it strikes me it's mostly the
Oakwood hitching-post."

She smiled at her own sagacity.

"Not that Sydney'd have him. Though she might do a great deal worse, a
great deal worse," she added, loyally. "But he cares for her enough to
want to please her, and it takes the best to satisfy Sydney."

A step on the stairs outside made itself heard.

"Come in, dear. Ah was just thinking about you."

Bob flung his cap on the bed, sat down on a cricket beside his mother,
and leaned his head against her shoulder.

"Tired, dear?"

"No, just hot. I've been over every field on the farm since breakfast."

"In all this sun!"

"Do you think it ought to cease to shine to shade your boy? There'll be
a right smart crop this year."

"So your father was telling me yesterday."

"I've got better hands than usual."

"And they have a better overseer."

She let fall the stocking from her left hand and patted the shock of
blac