too, was Tennessee, perched on the lower edge of a great pile of
bark, and gravely watching Birt.

He deprecated the attention she attracted. He was sometimes ashamed
to have the persistent little sister seen following at his heels
like a midday shadow. He could not know that the men who stopped
and spoke to him and to her, and laughed at the infirmities of the
infant tongue when she replied unintelligibly, thought better of him
for his manifestation of strong fraternal affection. They said to
each other that he was a "peart boy an' powerful good ter the
t'other chill'en, an' holped the fambly along ez well ez a man--
better'n thar dad ever done;" for Birt's father had been
characterized always as "slack-twisted an' onlucky."

The shadows dwindled on the tan. The winds had furled their wings.
White clouds rose, dazzling, opaque, up to the blue zenith. The
querulous cicada complained in the laurel. Birt heard the call of a
jay from the woods. And then, as he once more urged the old mule
on, the busy bark-mill kept up such a whir that he could hear
nothing else. He was not aware of an approach till the new-comer
was close upon him; in fact, the first he knew of Nate Griggs's
proximity was the sight of him. Nate was glancing about with his
usual air of questioning disparagement, and cracking a long lash at
the spent bark on the ground.

"Hello, Nate!" Birt cried out, eagerly. "I'm powerful glad ye
happened ter kem hyar, fur I hev a word ter say ter ye."

"I dunno ez I'm minded ter bide," Nate said cavalierly. "I hates to
waste time an' burn daylight a-jowin'."