‘If I hev as much hereafter es I’ve hed here, I ain’t a goin’if fin’ no fault,’ said Uncle Eb. ’’S a reel, splendid world.  God’s fixed it up so ev’ry body can hev a good time if they’ll only hev it.  Once I heard uv a poor man ‘at hed a bushel o’ corn give tew him.  He looked up kind o’ sad an’ ast if they wouldn’t please shell it.  Then they tuk it away.  God’s gin us happiness in the ear, but He ain’t a goin’ t’ shell it fer us.  You n ‘Lizabeth oughter be very happy.  Look a’ them tew childern!

There came a rap at the door then.  David put on his cap and went out with Uncle Eb.

‘It’s somebody for more money,’ Elizabeth whispered, her eyes filling.  ’I know ’tis, or he would have asked him in.  We’re goin’t lose our home.

Her lips quivered; she covered her eyes a moment.

‘David ain’t well,’ she continued.  ’Worries night ’n day over money matters.  Don’t say much, but I can see it’s alwuss on his mind.  Woke up in the middle o’ the night awhile ago.  Found him sittin’ by the stove.  “Mother,” he said, “we can’t never go back to farmin’.  I’ve ploughed furrows enough if go ’round the world.  Couldn’t never go through it ag’in.”  “Well,” said I, “if you think best we could start over see how we git along.  I’m willin’ if try it.”  “No, we re too old,” he says.  “Thet’s out o’ the question.  I’ve been thinkin’ what’ll we do there with Bill ’n Hope if we go t’live with ’em?  Don’t suppose they’ll hev any hosses if take care uv er any wood if chop.  What we’ll hev if do is more’n I can make out.  We can’t do nuthin; we’ve never learnt how.”

‘We’ve thought that all over,’ I said.  ’We may have a place in the country with a big garden.

‘Well,’ said she, ’I’m very well if I am over sixty.  I can cook an wash an’ mend an’ iron just as well as I ever could.’

Uncle Eb came to the door then.

‘Bill,’ he said, ’I want you ’n Hope if come out here ’n look at this young colt o’ mine.  He’s playful ’s a kitten.

We put on our wraps and went to the stable.  Uncle Eb was there alone.

‘If ye brought any Cnssmus presents,’ he whispered, ’slip ’em into my hands.  I’m goin’ if run the cirkis t’morrow an’ if we don’t hev fun a plenty I’ll miss my guess.

‘I’ll lay them out in my room,’ said Hope.

’Be sure ’n put the names on ’em,’ Uncle Eb whispered, as Hope went away.

‘What have ye done with the “bilers"?’ I enquired.

’Sold ’em,’ said he, laughing.  ‘Barker never kep’ his promise.  Heard they’d gone over t’ the ‘Burg an’ was tryin’ t’ sell more territory.  I says if Dave, “You let me manage ’em an’ I’ll put ’em out o business here ‘n this part o’ the country.”  So I writ out an advertisement fer the paper.  Read about this way:  “Fer sale.  Twelve hunderd patented suction Wash Bilers.  Anyone at can’t stan’ prosperity an’ is learnin’ if swear ’ll find ’em a great help.  If he don’t he’s a bigger fool ‘n I am.  Nuthin’ in ’em but tin — that’s wuth somethin’.  Warranted t’ hold water.”