[Illustration]




I.

"HOW MUCH IS THE FARE?"


"Rosa! Rosa!"

"Yes'm, Mis' Gray, I'm coming."

"Well, fer land sakes then, hurry up, you lazy girl! I've been
a-hollerin' till my throat's sore. You're always underfoot when you
ain't wanted, then when you are wanted, you're no place to be found. If
you wuz my girl, you'd be learnt to know more'n you know now, I can tell
you that. I believe in young uns amountin' to somethin', but it's mighty
little you know."

"But, Mis' Gray," faltered poor little Rosa, "mother was coughing awful,
and I didn't hear you."

"Yes, your ma ag'in. I don't know what you'll have fer an excuse when
she's gone, or what'll become of you either. I know one thing, though; I
won't have you. But it'd be a heap sight better fer you if I would, and
a real blessin', too."