skies. "Jest see, Father; we couldn't 'a' made out that winder this fur
at all ef the sun hadn't struck it jest so. I declar' it seems almost as
ef we could see the rocker, tew. It's tew bad, Abe, that we had ter let
yer old rocker go. D'yew remember--?" She laid her hand on his arm, and
lifted her gaze, growing clouded and wistful, to his face. "When we
bought the chair, we thought mebbe some day I'd be rocking a leetle baby
in it. 'T was then, yew ricollec', we sorter got in the habit of callin'
each other 'father' an' 'mother.' I wonder ef the young 'uns had come--"

"Le' 's hurry," interrupted Abe almost gruffly. "Le' 's hurry."

They stumbled forward with bowed heads in silence, until of a sudden
they were startled by a surprised hail of recognition, and looked up to
find themselves confronted by a bent and gray old man, a village
character, a harmless, slightly demented public charge known as
"Ishmael" or "Captain Rover."

"Whar yew goin', Cap'n Rose?"

The old couple had drawn back at the sight of the gentle vagabond, and
Angy clutched at her husband's arm, her heart contracting at the thought
that he, too, had become a pauper.

"I'm a-takin' my wife ter jine the old ladies over thar ter the Hum,"
Abe answered, and would have passed on, shrinking from the sight of
himself as reflected in poor Ishmael.

But the "innocent" placed himself in their path.

"Yew ain't a-goin' ter jine 'em, tew?" he bantered.