"Yes, Madam," was the answer I got in a tone of cold despair. It was thus
that the feud with my family traditions was established.

"Also, Rufus, please bring the saw with the hammer and the nails," was my
last hand-grenade as I departed out the back door to the barn. From the old
clock standing against the wall in the back hall I discovered the hour to
be exactly seven-thirty, and I felt that I had what would seem like a week
ahead of me before the setting of the sun. However, I was wrong in my
judgment, for time fairly fled from me, and it was nine o'clock by my
platinum wrist-watch before I had more than got one very wobbly-looking box
nailed together on the floor of the barn, and I was deep in both pride and
exhaustion.

"I knew I could do it, but I didn't believe it," I was remarking to myself
in great congratulations when a shadow fell across the light from the door.
I looked up and, behold, Mrs. Silas Beesley loomed up against the sun and
seemed to shine with equal refulgence to my delighted eyes! In her hand she
held a plate covered with a snowy napkin, and her blue eyes danced with
delighted astonishment.

"Well, well, Nancy!" she exclaimed, as she seated herself upon a bench by
the door and began to fan herself with a corner of a snowy kerchief that
crossed her ample bosom. "Looks like you have begun sawing and nailing at
the Craddock family estate pretty early in the action though it's none too
soon, and mighty glad I am to see you do it while there is still a little
odd lumber left. I've always said that it's women folks that prop a family
and it will soon tumble without 'em. I am so glad you've come, honeybunch,
that tears are laughing themselves out of the corner of my eyes." This
time the white kerchief was dabbed over the keen blue eyes.