ping between him and the fire, pulled something from among the hot
ashes. The fire made the only light in the room, and David never forgot
the supple grace of her as she bent thus silhouetted--the perfect line
of chin and throat black against the blaze, contrasted with the weird,
witchlike old woman with roughly knotted hair, who still squatted in the
heat, and shook the skillet of frying pork.

"Thar, now hit's done, I reckon," said old Sally, slowly rising and
straightening her bent back; and the woman from the bed called her
orders.

"Not that cup," she cried, as Sally began pouring black coffee into a
cracked white cup. "Git th' chany one. I hid hit yandah in th' cornder
'hind that tin can, to keep 'em f'om usin' hit every day. I had a hull
set o' that when I married Farwell. Give hit here." She took the
precious relic in her work-worn hands and peered into it, then wiped it
out with the corner of the sheet which covered her. This Thryng did not
see. He was watching the girl, as she broke open the hot, fragrant
corn-bread and placed it beside his plate.

"Come," she said. "You sure must be right hungry. Sit here and eat."
David felt like one drunken with weariness when he rose, and caught at
the edge of the table to steady himself.

"Aren't you hungry, too?" he asked, "and Hoyle, here? Sit beside me;
we're going to have a feast, little chap."

The girl placed an earthen crock on the table and took from it honey in
the broken comb, rich and dark.

"Have a little of this with your pone. It's right good," she said.

"Frale, he found a bee tree," piped the child suddenly, gaining
confidence as he saw the stranger engaged in the very normal act of
eating with the relish of an ordinary man. He edged forward and sat
himself gingerly on the outer corner of the next chair, and accepted a
huge piece of the pone from David's hand. His sister gave him honey, and
Sally dropped pieces of the sizzling hot pork on their plates, from the
skillet.

David sipped his coffee from the flowered "chany cup" contentedly.
Served without milk or sugar, it was strong, hot, and reviving. The girl
shyly offered more of the corn-bread as she saw it rapidly disappearing,
pleased to see him eat so eagerly, yet abashed at having nothing else to
offer.

"I'm sorry we can give you only such as this. We don't live like you do
in the no'th. Have a little more of the honey."

"Ah, but this is fine. Good, hey, little chap? You are doing a very