information from him, so they all
started for the window. Mrs. Lithicum reached it first. "As I'm
alive!" she cried. "Mis' Dawson's got back. She's gettin' out uv a
wagon down at 'er cabin."

"Well, I 'lowed she wouldn't always be gallivantin' about heer and
yan," said the weaver, as she peered over the shoulder of her guest.
"I reckon they've all got tired of 'er over thar an' sent 'er home."

Mrs. Lithicum followed the speaker back to the loom. "Well, I don't
know but I'm a leetle grain sorry," she said.

"Sorry!" repeated the sister of the person under discussion. "I don't
see what thar railly is to be sorry about."

Mrs. Lithicum looked as if she had got her foot into it, and she
flushed, but she had her defence ready. "Well, you see, Mis' Slogan,
she's tuck a most unaccountable dislike to Lizzie, an' a pusson
like--well, some _do_ think her trouble has sorter turned 'er brain,
an' the's no rail tellin' what quar notion may strike 'er."

"Do you think so, Mis' Lithicum?" Mrs. Slogan retained the big smooth
shuttle in her hand and eyed the speaker anxiously, her eyelids
quivering.

"To be downright plain, yes, I do. Mis' Slogan, ef she _is_ yore
sister, an' I've thought many a time 'at ef I wus in yore place I
wouldn't feel safe nuther. They say a pusson sometimes gits softenin'
o' the brain frum hatin' folks an' livin' alone like she does. I'd be
afeerd to leave the house open at night ef I wus you."

"Well!" suddenly broke in Peter, who was the only one remaining at the
window. "You may have my overcoat an'"--after a pause--"my best Sunday
shirt, too, ef she hain't loaded 'er bed in that wagon an' 's a-comin'
this way as big as the side of a house. She's comin' back heer,
Clariss, Lordy, Lordy!"

They all ran to the window again and stood breathlessly watching the
oncoming wagon. "She's off 'er nut now, I know," said Peter. "I know
'er too well; she never would come back heer ef she wus in 'er right
mind."

"Well, I don't want to meet 'er--that's one thing certain," cried Mrs.
Lithicum in sudden terror. "She mought pounce upon me on Lizzie's
account. I'm a-goin' home by the path through the cotton-patch. Good
day to all uv you. Ef I was you-uns," she called back from the door,
"I'd have 'er put up!"

Abner mutely followed her, and the Slogans were left to solve the
problem for themselves. The wagon drew up at the door, and from their
window they saw the little woman step down over t