spring-house under the hill. She had just placed in her sleeve and
was regarding it with entire satisfaction, when the front gate
clicked and she looked up with interest.

"Well, good morning, Mis' Mayberry," came in Bettie Pratt's hearty
voice as she swung up the walk at a brisk pace. On one arm she held
a bobbing baby in a white sunbonnet, a toddler clung to her skirts
and a small boy trailed behind her with a puppy in his arms. She was
buxom and rosy, was the Widow Pratt, with a dangerous dimple over
the corner of her mouth, a decided come-hither in her blue eyes, and
a smile that compelled a response.

"Why, Bettie child, how glad I am to see you!" exclaimed Mother,
rendering the smile from out over her glasses. "I didn't see you all
day yesterday and not the day before, neither. But I put it down to
a work-hold on us both, and didn't worry none. And now here you are,
with some of the little folks! Here's a empty spool for little
Bettie," and she held out the treasure to the toddler, who sidled up
to her knee with confidence to grasp the gift.

"I told Pattie Hoover if she would stay at home this morning and
clean up some like her Pa wants her to that I'd let my Clara May
help her and would bring the baby on up here to get him outen the
way. 'Lias come along to get you to look at his puppy's foot, and I
want you to see if you don't think the baby have fatted some since
I've took holt and helped Pattie with the feeding of him."

"He have that," answered Mother heartily. "I can tell it without
even feeling of his legs. You've got the growing hand with babies,
Bettie, and I'm glad you don't hold it back from this little half-