h had one idee.

"'We wanted to have a memor'al service to the churches 'bout Nat,' they
sez; 'then it come over us that it was the town's affair really. So,
Mis' Haynes,' they sez, 'we want you should share this thing with us.
You mustn't be selfish. You gotta give us a little part in it too. Are
you willin'?'"

"It knocked me dumb--me givin' anybody anything! Well, to finish, they's
to be a big public service in the Town Hall on Friday. They'll have it
all flags--French ones, an' our'n too. An' the ministers'll preach; an'
Judge Geer'll tell Nat's story an' speak about him; an' the Ladies'
Guild'll serve a big hot supper, because they'll probably be hundreds
out; an' they'll read the letters an' have prayers for our Nat!" She
faltered a moment. "An' we'll be there too--you an' me an' Tom--settin'
in the seat o' honor, right up front!... It'll be the greatest funeral
service this town's ever seen, Luke."

Maw's face was crimson with emotion.

"An' Uncle Clem an' Aunt Mollie--"

"Oh--them!" Maw came back to earth and smiled tolerantly. "They was real
sharp to be in it too. Mollie took me into the parlor an' fetched a
glass o' wine to stren'then me up." Maw mused a moment; then spoke with
a touch of patronage: "I'm goin' to knit Clem some new socks this
winter. He says he can't git none like the oldtime wool ones; an' the
market floors are cold. Clem's done what he could, an' I'll be real glad
to help him out.... Oh, I asked 'em to come an' set with us at the
service--S'norta too. I allowed we could manage to spare 'em the room."

She dreamed again, launched on a sea of glory; then roused to her final
triumph:

"But that's only part, Luke. The best's comin'. Jim Beckonridge wants
you to go down an' see him. 'That lame boy o' yours,' he sez, 'was in
here a spell ago with some notion about raisin' bees an' buckwheat
together, an' gittin' a city market fur buckwheat honey. Slipped my
mind,' he sez, 'till I heard what Nat'd done; an' then it all come back.
City party this summer had the same notion an' was lookin' out for a
likely place to invest some cash in. You send that boy down an' we'll
talk it over. Shouldn't wonder if he'd get some backin'. I calculate I
might help him, myself,' he sez, 'I b'en thinkin' of it too.'... Don't
seem like it could hardly be true."

"Oh, Maw!" Luke's pulses were leaping wildly. Buckwheat honey was the
dear dream of many a long hour's wistful meditation. "If we could--I
could stud