can,
but I don't see how he can. He agreed to have the Deacon do the
dividin', and he'll have to stand by it so far as I can see."

Mrs. Turner looked dubious. "Well, you know Ike Harkey. He looks as
though sugar wouldn't melt in his mouth, but I tell you I'd hate to have
dealin's with him."

Turner broke in: "Well, we must be movin'. I s'pose you'll move right
in?"

"Yes. Just as soon's as this thing's settled."

"Well, good-by. Come up."

"You come down."

Sarah was a heavy, good-natured woman, a widow with "a raft of
children." Probably for that reason her uncle had left her the house,
which was large and comfortable. As she stood looking down the road, one
of the girls came out to the gate. She was a plump, strong creature, a
neighbor's girl who had volunteered to help.

"Anybody coming?"

"Yes. I guess--no, it's going the other way. Ain't it a nice day?"

That was as far as she could carry the utterance of her feeling, but all
the morning she had felt the wonderful power of the air. The sun had
risen incredibly warm. The wind was in the south, and the crackling,
booming roar of ice in the ponds and along the river was like winter
letting go its iron grip upon the land. Even the old cows shook their
horns, and made comical attempts to frisk with the yearlings. Sarah knew
it was foolish, but she felt like a girl that morning--and Bill was
coming up the road.

In the midst of the joy of the spring day stood the house, desolate and
empty, out of which its owner had been carried to a bed in the cold,
clinging clay of the little burying-ground.

The girls and Sarah worked swiftly, brushing, cleaning, setting aside,
giving little thought to even the beauty of the morning, which entered
their blood unconsciously.

"Well, how goes it?" asked a quick, jovial voice.

The girls gave screams of affected fright.

"Why, Deacon! You nearly scared the life out of us."

Deacon Williams was always gallant.

"I didn't know I was given to scaring the ladies," he said. "Well, who's
here?"

"Nobody but us so far."

"Hain't seen nothing o' Harkey?"

"Not a thing. He sent word he'd be on hand, though."

"M--, well, we've got the machinery invoiced. Guess I'll look around and
kind o' get the household things in my mind's eye," said the Deacon,
taking on the air of a public functionary.

"All right. We'll have everything ready here in a few minutes."

They returned to work, dusting and scrubbing. The girls with