"Judy! Judy, dear! Do come and see this wonderful, wonderful sky!"

From within the house, a shrill, querulous, drawling voice, so
characteristic of the Southern "poor-white" mountaineer, answered:
"Wha-a-t?"

A quick little smile deepened the crows'-feet at the corners of Auntie
Sue's eyes, as she called again with gentle patience: "Do come and see
the sunset, Judy, dear! It is so beautiful!" And, this time, in answer,
Judy appeared in the doorway.

From appearances, the poor creature's age might have been anywhere from
fifteen to thirty-five; for the twisted and misshapen body, angular and
hard; the scrawny, wry neck; the old-young face, thin and sallow, with
furtive, beady-black eyes, gave no hint of her years. As a matter of
fact, I happened to know that Judith Taylor, daughter of the notorious
Ozark moonshiner, Jap Taylor, was just past twenty the year she went to
live with Auntie Sue.

Looking obliquely at the old gentlewoman, with a curious expression of
mingled defiance, suspicion, and affection on her almost vicious face,
Judy drawled, "Was you-all a-yellin' for me?"

"Yes, Judy; I want you to help me watch the sunset," Auntie Sue
answered, with bright animation; and, turning, she pointed toward the
glowing west,--"Look!"

Judy's sly, evasive eyes did not cease to regard the illumined face of
her old companion as she returned, in her dry, high-pitched monotone: "I
don't reckon as how you-all are a-needin' much help, seein' as how you