Her hands trembled.

"I sell it in cloth at--one dollar; in sheep at--one, six bits; in
reel moroccy, with gold toolin' at--two an' a half."

"We must certainly secure a copy in gold and morocco."

Her eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"Two copies," I suggested rashly: "one for you, Ajax; one for me."

"Ye kin take yer copy in cloth," said the little woman,
compassionately, "sein' as ye're only workin' for yer board."

"In gold and morocco," I replied firmly. "The hand that rocks the
cradle is the hand that rules the world. A golden word from mother
cannot be fittingly bound in fustian."

"Ye must hev had awful nice mothers, both of ye," she said simply. "Do
I sell many books? No, sir. Farmer-folks in Californy ain't got the
money ter spend in readin' matter. They're in big luck these times if
they kin pay the interest on their mortgages. With wheat at eighty
cents a cental, an' barley not wuth the haulin', it seems most an
impertinence to ask grangers ter buy books."

"Do you make twenty dollars a month at the business?"

She shook her head sorrowfully.

"This is September," said Ajax, "and within six weeks the rains will