to Mis' Bostick and the Deacon and I'm proud of your being so kind
and thoughtful. Do they ever ask you where you bring 'em from?"

"I always tell 'em, Mother Mayberry. Deacon said I oughtn't to get
things from other folks to bring to 'em, but I told him that you and
Mis' Pratt and Mis' Mosbey and Mis' Peavey would be mad at me if I
just took things from Maw to 'em and slighted they cooking. I pick
out the best things everybody makes. Maw's light rolls, Mis' Pratt's
sunshine cake and cream potatoes, Cindy's chicken and Mis' Peavey
for baked hash. I took the custards from Miss Elinory to please her;
but Mis' Mosbey's is better. I wanted 'em to have the best they is
on the Road, 'cause they is old and they is our'n."

"Bless your dear little heart, the best they shall have always!"
exclaimed Mother Mayberry, as she hugged her small confrere close
against her side and wiped away a tear with a quick gesture. "Now
you can go fix up Nath Mosbey's finger to suit your mind, Sister
Pike," she added with a laugh as she, bestowed the bottle.

The rest of the morning was filled to the minute for the Mayberry
household, which seemed possessed with a frenzy of polishing and
garnishing. After Cindy had done her worst with broom and mop,
Mother Mayberry with feather duster and cloth, Miss Wingate threw
her energies with abandon into the accomplishing of a most artistic
scheme of decoration. She set tall jars of white locust blossoms in
the hall which shone out mystically in the cool dusk. She mingled
lilac and red bud, cherry blossoms and narcissus and trailed long
vines of honeysuckle over every possible place.

"Dearie me," said Mother Mayberry, as she paused in her busy