“Oh, Lindy,” she cried, “I’se glad from de bottom ob my heart ter see you’s all.  I com’d out dere ter git a blessin’, an’ I’se got a double po’tion.  De frens I war libin’ wid war mighty good ter me.  Dey lib’d wid me in de lower kentry, an’ arter de war war ober I stopped wid ’em and helped take keer ob de chillen; an’ when dey com’d up yere dey brought me wid ’em.  I’se com’d a way I didn’t know, but I’se mighty glad I’se com’d.”

“Does you know dis place?” asked Aunt Linda, as they approached the settlement.

“No’n ’deed I don’t.  It’s all new ter me.”

“Well, dis is whar I libs.  Ain’t you mighty tired?  I feels a little stiffish.  Dese bones is gittin’ ole.”

“Dat’s so!  But I’se mighty glad I’se lib’d to see my boy ’fore I crossed ober de riber.  An’ now I feel like ole Simeon.”

“But, mother,” said Robert, “if you are ready to go, I am not willing to let you.  I want you to stay ever so long where I can see you.”

A bright smile overspread her face.  Robert’s words reassured and gladdened her heart.  She was well satisfied to have a pleasant aftermath from life on this side of the river.

After arriving home Linda’s first thought was to prepare dinner for her guests.  But, before she began her work of preparation, she went to the cupboard to get a cup of home-made wine.

“Here,” she said, filling three glasses, “is some wine I made myself from dat grape-vine out dere.  Don’t it look nice and clar?  Jist taste it.  It’s fus’rate.”

“No, thank you,” said Robert.  “I’m a temperance man, and never take anything which has alcohol in it.”

“Oh, dis ain’t got a bit ob alcohol in it.  I made it myself.”

“But, Aunt Linda, you didn’t make the law which ferments grape-juice and makes it alcohol.”

“But, Robby, ef alcohol’s so bad, w’at made de Lord put it here?”

“Aunt Lindy,” said Iola, “I heard a lady say that there were two things the Lord didn’t make.  One is sin, and the other alcohol.”

“Why, Aunt Linda,” said Robert, “there are numbers of things the Lord has made that I wouldn’t touch with a pair of tongs.”

“What are they?”

“Rattlesnakes, scorpions, and moccasins.”

“Oh, sho!”

“Aunt Linda,” said Iola, “the Bible says that the wine at last will bite like a serpent and sting like an adder.”

“And, Aunt Linda,” added Robert, “as I wouldn’t wind a serpent around my throat, I don’t want to put something inside of it which will bite like a serpent and sting as an adder.”

“I reckon Robby’s right,” said his mother, setting down her glass and leaving the wine unfinished.  “You young folks knows a heap more dan we ole folks.”  “Well,” declared Aunt Linda, “you all is temp’rence to de backbone.  But what could I do wid my wine ef we didn’t drink it?”

“Let it turn to vinegar, and sign the temperance pledge,” replied Robert.