y with emotion--"for this, Tabitha, an', Jack, jes'
pour it out on the table there."

It came out, yellow waves of gold. The light shone on them, and as
the tired eyes of little Shiloh peeped curiously at them, each one
seemed to throw to her a kiss of hope, golden tipped and resplendent.

The old woman stood dazed, and gazing sillily. Then she took up one
of the coins and bit it gingerly.

"In God's name, Hillard Watts, what does all this mean? Why, it's
genuwine gold."

"It means," said the old man cheerily, "that Shiloh an' the chillun
will never go into that mill ag'in--that old Ben Butler has give 'em
back their childhood an' a chance to live. It means," he said
triumphantly, "that Cap'n Tom's gwinter have the chance he's been
entitled to all these years--an' that means that God'll begin to
unravel the tangle that man in his meanness has wound up. It means,
Tabitha, that you'll not have to wuck anymo' yo'self--no mo', as long
as you live--"

The old woman clutched at the bed-post: "Me?--not wuck anymo'? Not
hunt 'sang an' spatterdock an' clean up an' wash an' scour an' cook
an'--"

"No, why not, Tabitha? We've got a plenty to--"

He saw her clutch again at the bed-post and go down in a heap,
saying:--

"Lemme die--now, if I can't wuck no mo'."

They lifted her on the bed and bathed her face. It was ten minutes
before she came around and said feebly:

"I'm dyin', Hillard, it's kilt me to think I'll not have to wuck any
mo'."

"Oh, no, Tabitha, I wouldn't die fur that," he said soothingly. "It's
terrible suddent like, I kno', an' hard fur you to stan', but try to
bear it, honey, fur our sakes. It's hard to be stricken suddent like
with riches, an' I've never seed a patient get over it, it is true.
You'll be wantin' to change our cabin into an ole Colonial home,
honey, an' have a carriage an' a pair of roached mules, an' a wantin'
me to start a cotton factory an' jine a whis'-club, whilst you
entertain the Cottontown Pettico't Club with high-noon teas, an' cut
up a lot o' didoes that'll make the res' of the town laugh. But you
mus' fight ag'in it, Tabitha, honey. We'll jes' try to live as we've
allers lived an' not spend our money so as to have people talk about
how we're throwin' it at the ducks. You can get up befo' day as usual
an' hunt 'sang on the mountain side, and do all the other things
you've l'arnt to do befo' breakfast."

This was most reassuring, and the old woman felt much better. But the