usual--that was the only sign she gave
that she was not in her own drawing-
room. Apparently she saw nothing
strange or unusual even, but there was
really nothing that she did not see or hear
and absorb, as few others than the Blight
can.

Straightway, the old woman knocked
the ashes out of her pipe.

``I reckon you hain't had nothin' to
eat,'' she said and disappeared. The old
man asked questions, the young mother
rocked her baby on her knees, the children
got less shy and drew near the fireplace,
the Blight and the little sister exchanged
a furtive smile and the contrast of the
extremes in American civilization, as shown
in that little cabin, interested me mightily.

``Yer snack's ready,'' said the old
woman. The old man carried the chairs
into the kitchen, and when I followed the
girls were seated. The chairs were so low
that their chins came barely over their
plates, and demure and serious as they were
they surely looked most comical. There
was the usual bacon and corn-bread and
potatoes and sour milk, and the two girls