inconvenient with the milking and the butter and--"

"Tucker, oh Brother Tucker!" came a call across the garden fence from
the house, in a weak but commanding voice, and Rose Mary caught a
glimpse of Miss Lavinia's white mob cap bobbing at the end of the
porch, "that is in Proverbs tenth and nineteenth, and not nineteenth
and tenth, like you said. You come right in here and get it straight
in your head before the next sun sets on your ignorance."

"Fly-away!" exclaimed Uncle Tucker, "now Sister Viney's never going to
forgive me that Bible slip-up if I don't persuade her from now on till
supper. But there is nothing more for you to do out here, Rose Mary,
the sun'll put out the light for you," and he hurried away down the
path and through the garden gate.

Rose Mary remained leaning over the garden wall, looking up and down
the road with interest shining in her eyes and a laugh and nod for the
neighbors who were hurrying supperward or stopping to talk with one
another over fences and gates. A group of men and boys stood and sat
on the porch in front of the store, and their big voices rang out now
and again with hearty merriment at some exchange of wit or clever bit
of horse-play. Two women stood in deep conclave over by the Poteet
gate, and the subject of the council was a small bundle of flannel and
lawn displayed with evident pride by a comely young woman in a pink
calico dress. Seeing Rose Mary at the wall, they both smiled and
started in her direction, the bearer of the bundle stepping carefully
across the ditch at the side of the walk.

"Lands alive, Rose Mary, you never did see nothing as pretty as this
last Poteet baby," exclaimed Mrs. Plunkett enthusiastically. "The year