ore they
were both taken--and, standing there, as it might be you, Miss Grace,
and saying--'Jael,' he says, 'this window looks out on the yard,' he
says; 'do you ever smell anything, Jael? You are here a good deal.'
'Master John,' I says, 'I thank my Maker, my nose never troubles me;
but if it did' I says, 'I hope I know better than to set _my_self up
to smell more than my neighbors.'--'To be sure, to be sure,' he says,
looking round in a foolish kind of a way at the sink. Then he says,
'Jael, do you ever taste anything in the water? My wife thinks there's
something wrong with the well.' 'Master John,' I says, 'with all
respect to your good lady, she disturbs her mind a deal too much with
books. An ounce of ex-perience, I say, is worth a pound of book
learning; and I'll tell you what my father said to them parties that
goes round stirring up stinks, when they were for meddling with his
farm yard. "Let wells alone," he says, "and muck heaps likewise." And
my father passed three-score years and ten, Master John, and died
where he was born.' Well-a-day! I see your poor Pa now. He stood and
looked as puzzled as a bee in a bottle. Then he says--'Well, Jael, my
wife says Sunflowers are good against fevers; and there's no harm in
sowing some.' Which he did that very afternoon, she standing by him,
with her hand on his shoulder; but, bless ye, my dear! they were took
long before the seeds was up. Your mother was a pretty woman, I'll say
that for her. You'd never have thought it, to look at her, that she
was so fond of poking in dirty places."

"Jael!" I said, "Mamma was right about the smells in the back yard.
Margery and I hold our noses"--"you'd a deal better hold your
tongues," interrupted Jael.

"We do, Jael, we do, because I don't like mustard plasters on my
throat, and when the back yard smells a good deal, my throat is always
sore. But oh, Jael! If Sunflowers are good for smells, don't you think
we might tell Grandmamma, and she would let us have them for that?"

"She'll not, Miss Grace," said Jael, "so don't worry on. They're
ragged things at the best, and all they're good for is to fatten
fowls; and I shall tell Gardener he may cut their heads off and throw
'em to the poultry, before he roots up the rest."

I could not bear to hear her, so I went out to bid the Sunflowers good
bye.

I held their dear rough stems, rough with nice little white hairs, and
I knew how easily their poor heads would cut off, there is so