Noah's shuts twel I 'uz right stiff in de j'ints. He ain' never let nobody
flute his frills fur 'im 'cep'n' me. Lawd, Lawd, Marse Peyton's shuts warn'
nuttin ter Marse Noah's!"

Betty's eyes grew big. "I reckon you're mighty old, Aunt Ailsey--'most as
old as God, ain't you?"

Aunt Ailsey pondered the question. "I ain' sayin' dat, honey," she modestly
replied.

"Then you're certainly as old as the devil--you must be," hopefully
suggested the little girl.

The old woman wavered. "Well, de devil, he ain' never let on his age," she
said at last; "but w'en I fust lay eyes on 'im, he warn' no mo'n a brat."

Standing upon the threshold for an instant, the child reverently regarded
her. Then, turning her back upon the fireplace and the bent old figure, she
ran out into the twilight.




II

AT THE FULL OF THE MOON


By the light of the big moon hanging like a lantern in the topmost pine
upon a distant mountain, the child sped swiftly along the turnpike.