lay the blame on somebody.

"Now you help me git four more sacks over to Tim Lakeby's----"

Ruth would not hear of his going back before he changed his clothing and
had something put upon the cut in his head. After a little arguing, it
was agreed that Ben and the clerk should ferry the flour across to the
store, and then the clerk would bring Ben back.

"Goodness sakes alive!" shrieked Aunt Alvirah, when she saw them come
onto the porch, still dripping. "What you been doing to my pretty, Jabez
Potter?"

"Huh!" sniffed the miller. "Mebbe it's what she's been doing to _me_?"
and he wreathed his thin lips into a wry grin.

Aunt Alvirah and Mercy must hear it all. The lame girl was delighted.
She pointed her finger at the old man, who had now gotten into his
Sunday suit and had a bandage on his head.

"Now, tell me, Dusty Miller, what do you think about girls being of some
use? Isn't Ruth as good as any boy?"

"She sartainly kep' me from drownin' as good as any boy goin'," admitted
the old man. "But that was only chancey, as ye might say. When it comes
to bein' of main use in the world----Wal, it ain't gals thet makes the
wheels go 'round!'

"And don't you really think, Uncle, that girls are any use in the
world?" asked Ruth, quietly. She had come out upon the dimly lit porch
(this was after their supper) in season to hear the miller's final
observation.

"Ha!" ejaculated Jabez. Perhaps he had not intended Ruth to hear just
that. "They're like flowers, I reckon--mighty purty an' ornamental; but
they ain't no manner o' re'l use!"

Mercy fairly snorted, but she was too wise to say anything farther.
Ruth, however, continued:

"That seems very unfair, Uncle. Many girls are 'worth their salt,' as
you call it, to their families. Why can't _I_ be of use to you--in time,
of course?"

"Ha! everyone to his job," said Uncle Jabez, brusquely. "You kin be of
gre't help to your Aunt Alviry, no doubt. But ye can't take a sack of
flour on your shoulders an' throw it inter a waggin--like Ben there. Or
like that Roberto thet lugged me ashore to-night. An' I'm some weight, I
be."

"And is that all the kind of help you think you'll ever need, Uncle?"
demanded Ruth, with rising emotion.

"I ain't expectin' ter be helpless an' want nussin' by no gal--not yet
awhile," said Uncle Jabez, with a chuckle. "Gals is a gre't expense--a
gre't expense."

"Now, Jabez! ye don't mean thet air," exclaimed the little old woman,
coming from