do over on the avenue, where you dassent pick a one; but they was
God's, an' you was welcome to all you could pull. An' there was
trees, Jim, where you could climb up an' git big red apples, an'
when the frost 'ud come they'd be persimmons that 'ud jes' melt in
yer mouth. An' you could look 'way off 'crost the meaders, an' see
the trees a-wavin' in the sunshine, an' up over yer head the birds
'ud be singin' like they was never goin' to stop. An' yer pa an' me
'ud take you out at the harvestin' time, an' you 'ud play on the
hay-stacks. I kin remember jes' how you looked, Jim--a fat little
boy, with red cheeks a-laughin' all the time."

Mrs. Wiggs could tell no more, for the old memories were too much
for her. Jim scarcely knew when she stopped; his eyes were half
closed, and a sweet drowsiness was upon him.

"It's nice an' warm in the sunshine," he murmured; "the meaders an'
trees--laughin' all the time! Birds singin', singin', singin'."

Then Jim began to sing too, softly and monotonously, and the sorrow
that had not come with years left his tired face, and he fearlessly
drifted away into the Shadowy Valley where his lost childhood lay.



CHAPTER III

THE "CHRISTMAS LADY"

"The rosy glow of summer
Is on thy dimpled cheek,