David the Singer: "_The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof;
the world and they that dwell therein_," intoned in the old man's
reverent voice, something led Everett's glance out through the open
door to see the bit of divine dominion that spread before him with new
eyes and a newer understanding. Harpeth Valley lay like the tender
palm of a huge master hand with the knuckles of rough blue hills
knotted around it, and dotted over the fostering meadows were
comfortable homes, each with its morning altar fire sending up opal
wreaths of mist smoke from the red brick or stone chimneys. Long creek
lines marked their way across the fields which were growing tender
green with the upbringing of the spring grain.

"_Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand_," droned
Uncle Tucker. "_The hollow of His hand_," assented Everett's
conscience in artistic appreciation of the simile.

"_And stretched out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out
as a tent to dwell in_," came as another line of interpretation of the
picture spread before the strangely unshackled eyes of the bowed man
with the little boy kneeling beside him. Quickly he turned toward Rose
Mary with almost a startled glance and found in her eyes the fact that
she had been faring forth over Harpeth Valley on the wings of Uncle
Tucker's supplication as had he. The wonder of it rose in his eyes,
which were about to lay bare to her depths never before stirred, when
a fervent "Amen! I beat you that time, Tobe!" fairly exploded at his
ear as the General took the final word out of Uncle Tucker's very
mouth in rival to his worshipping opponent.

"I said it first, but it got blowed into Miss Ro' Mary's sleeve,"
avowed Tobe with a flaunt at his competitor.