People all look at it when they come to the church, and I guess the
Tuckers feel pretty small. Pearl says if they are really sorry, it is
all right, and young Tom has not died in vain. Every cat has to die
sometime, and if he had softened the Tucker's hearts--it is all right.
Pearl said she wasn't real sure about them, and I guess if they kill
another cat, she'll kill them sure--she said that's the way to do with
people like them. Make them repentant--or dead!"

"God save us all," cried Mrs. Watson, in real distress, "whatever will
happen to her when she goes out into the world. That's awful talk for
a girl especially. Whatever will become of her when she leaves home.
She'll be in hot water all the time."

"No fear of Pearlie!" said her father proudly--as he opened the end
door of the stove and picked up a coal for his pipe, placing it
without undue haste in the bowl, and carefully pressing it down with
his thumb. Leaning back in the chintz-covered rocking chair, he spread
his feet out to the heat which came from the oven door, and repeated,
"No fear of Pearlie--there ain't a girl in the country better able
to do for herself. Faith--and she's no fool--and never was--I ain't
worrying about Pearlie wherever she goes--or whatever she meets--I
ain't worrying."

"You don't worry about anything, John," said Mrs. Watson, in reproof,
as she covered the bread with many wrappings and fixed two chairs to
hold it behind the stove for the night; "you didn't even worry the
night the crop froze, sleepin' and snorin' the whole night through,
with me up every half hour watching the thermometer, and it slippin'
lower and lower, and the pan o' water on the woodpile gettin' its