making you feel bad, and it won't do no good. And then they may be
stirred up about me. Emma--Emma's my nephew's wife--left me at the
doctor's office 'cause she had some trading to do, and she was to
come back there for me. And then, as I was sittin' there, the pinin'
came over me so strong it seemed I just must get up and start!
And"---she smiled wanly---"this was far as I got."

"Come over and sit down by this table," said the girl, impulsively,
"and tell me a little about your home back in the mountains.
Wouldn't you like to?"

The woman nodded gratefully. "Seems most like getting back to them
to find someone that knows about them," she said, after they had
drawn their chairs up to the table and were sitting there side by
side.

The girl put her rounded hand over on the thin, withered one. "Tell
me about it," she said again.

"Maybe it wouldn't be much interesting to you, my dear. It's just a
common life--mine is. You see, William and I--William was my
husband--we went to Georgetown before it really was any town at all.
Years and years before the railroad went through, we was there. Was
you ever there?" she asked wistfully.

"Oh, very often," replied the girl. "I love every inch of that
country!"

A tear stole down the woman's face. "It's most like being home to
find someone that knows about it," she whispered.