"Yes, Jim."

"Well, I bin thinking it over. If I ain't better in the morning I
guess--" the words came reluctantly--"I guess you'd better go
see the Christmas lady. I wouldn't mind her knowin' so much. 'T
won't be fer long, nohow, cause I kin take keer of you all soon--
soon 's I kin git up."

The talking brought on severe coughing, and he sank back exhausted.

"Can't you go to sleep, honey?" asked his mother.

"No, it's them ole wheels," he said fretfully, "them wheels at the
fact'ry; when I git to sleep they keep on wakin' me up."

Mrs. Wiggs's hands were rough and knotted, but love taught them to
be gentle as she smoothed his hot head.

"Want me to tell you 'bout the country, Jim?" she asked.

Since he was a little boy he had loved to hear of their old home in
the valley. His dim recollection of it all formed his one conception
of heaven.

"Yes, ma; mebbe it will make me fergit the wheels," he said.

"Well," she began, putting her head beside his on the pillow, so he
could not watch her face, "it was all jes' like a big front yard
without no fences, an' the flowers didn't belong to folks like they