ard, her delicate hands tightly
clasped, and her face alight with intense feeling. The visitor's words
were like great stones thrown into the placid waters of her mind, and in
the turmoil of thought and emotion she found no word of reply. Nor was
any needed. The situation was an enjoyable one for Mrs. Williams. The
chair in which she sat was a springy rocker, the room was cool, her own
voice sounded pleasantly through the quiet house, and the look on the
face of her hostess was an inspiration to further speech.

"Now, I don't know how you feel about it, Mrs. Martin," she continued,
"but I never could do anything if somebody was standin' around waitin'.
If I know there's anybody waitin' for dinner, I'll burn myself and drop
the saucepans and scorch every thing I'm cookin'. If I'm puttin' the
last stitches in a dress, and Anna Belle's waitin' to put the dress on,
I have to send her out of the room so I can manage my fingers and see to
thread the needle. And if Anna Belle and Henry are waitin' for me to
die, I verily believe I'll live forever."

This declaration of possible immortality in the flesh was made with such
vehemence that the speaker had to pause suddenly to recover breath,
while Mrs. Martin sat expectant, awaiting the next passage in the
romance.

"Mrs. Martin," resumed Mrs. Williams solemnly, "if there's anything I do
hate, it's a stumblin'-block. I've had stumblin'-blocks myself, people
that got in my way and kept me from doin' what I wanted to do, and I
always bore with them as patient as I could. But when it comes to bein'
a stumblin'-block myself, I've got no manner of patience. If I'm in
anybody's way, I'll take myself out as quick as I can, and if I can't
get out of the way, I'll fix it so they can manage to walk around me,
for I never was cut out to be a stumblin'-block."

"Nor me," said Mrs. Martin with tremulous haste, "especially when it's
my own child I'm standin' in the way of. Why, I never dreamed that I
was interfering with Henry's happiness. There ain't a thing on earth I
wouldn't do for him--my only child."

Mrs. Williams nodded approvingly. "I'm glad you feel that way," she said
warmly, "for this is a case where it takes two to do what has to be
done. And that reminds me of somethin' I saw the other day: I was
sittin' by the window, and here comes a big, lumberin' old wagon and two
oxen drawin' it and an old man drivin'. They were crawlin' along right
in the middle of the road, and just be