Thompsonville with my own hands."

"Hit sure looks like hit ought ter be safe er nough, so long as hit
warn't mailed at the Ferry where old Stimson could git his hands on
hit," agreed Judy.

Then, after a silence of several minutes, she added, in a more
reassuring voice: "I reckon as how hit'll be all right, ma'm. I wouldn't
worry myself, if I was you. That there bank-place, like as not, gits er
right smart lot of letters, an' hit stands ter reason the feller just
naturally can't write back ter ev'rybody at once."

"Of course," agreed Auntie Sue. "It is just some delay in their
acknowledgment, that is all. Perhaps they are waiting to find out if the
notes are genuine; or it may be that their letter to me went astray, and
will have to be returned to them, and then remailed all over again. I
feel sure I shall hear from them in a few days."

So they talked until the moon appeared from behind the dark mountains
that, against her light, were silhouetted on the sky. And, as the old
gentlewoman watched the queen of the night rising higher and higher
on her royal course, and saw the dusky landscape transformed to a
fairy-scene of ethereal loveliness, Auntie Sue forgot the letter that
had not come.

With the enthusiasm that never failed her, the silvery-haired teacher
tried to give the backwoods girl a little of her wealth of vision. But
though they looked at the same landscape, the eyes of twenty could
not see that which was so clear to the eyes of seventy. Poor Judy! The
river, sweeping on its winding way through the hills, from the springs