make cultivation possible. Sometimes the little log house would
be perched like a lonely eagle's nest on a mere shelflike ledge jutting
out from the mountain wall, but always below it or above it or off at
one side he found the inevitable pocket of rich soil accumulated by the
wash of years, where enough corn and cow-peas could be raised for
cattle, and cotton and a few sheep to provide material for clothing the
family, with a few fowls and pigs to provide their food.

Here they lived, those isolated people, in quiet independence and
contented poverty, craving little and often having less, caring nothing
for the great world outside their own environment, looking after each
other in times of sickness and trouble, keeping alive the traditions of
their forefathers, and clinging to the ancient family feuds and
friendships from generation to generation.

David soon learned that they had among themselves their class
distinctions, certain among them holding their heads high, in the
knowledge of having a self-respecting ancestry, and training their
children to reckon themselves no "common trash," however much they
deprecated showing the pride that was in them.

Many days passed after Frale's departure before David learned more of
the young man's unhappy deed. He had gone down to give the old mother
some necessary care and, finding her alone, remained to talk with her.
Pleased with her quaint expressions and virile intellect, he led her on
to speak of her youth; and one morning, weary of the solitude and
silence, she poured out tales of Cassandra's father, and how, after his
death, she "came to marry Farwell." She told of her own mother, and the
hard times that fell upon them during the bitter days of the Civil War.

The traditions of her family were dear to her, and she was well pleased
to show this young doctor who had found the key to her warm, yet
reserved, heart that she "wa'n't no common trash," and her "chillen
wa'n't like the run o' chillen."

"Seems like I'm talkin' a heap too much o' we-uns," she said, at last.

"No, no. Go on. You say you had no school; how did you learn? You were
reading your Bible when I came in."

"No. Thar wa'n't no schools in my day, not nigh enough fer me to go to.
Maw, she could read, an' write, too, but aftah paw jined the ahmy, she
had to work right ha'd and had nothin' to do with. Paw, he had to jine
one side or t'othah. Some went with the North and some went with the
South,--they di