no use in dyin’ ‘fore yer time.  Lots of folks is walkin’ ‘round jes’ as dead as they’ll ever be.  I believe in gittin’ as much good outen life as you kin—­not that I ever set out to look fer happiness; seems like the folks that does that never finds it.  I jes’ do the best I kin where the good Lord put me at, an’ it looks like I got a happy feelin’ in me ’most all the time.”

Lucy sat silent for a while, gazing out of the window.  Mrs. Wiggs’s philosophy was having its effect.  Presently she rose and untied the bundle she held.

“Here is a dress I brought for Asia,” she said, shaking out the folds of a soft crepon.

“Umph, umph!  Ain’t that grand?” exclaimed Mrs. Wiggs, coming from behind the ironing-board to examine it.  “It does seem lucky that your leavin’s jes’ fits Asia, an’ Asia’s jes’ fits Austry; there ain’t no symptoms of them bein’ handed down, neither!  We all model right after you, but it looks like Asia’s the only one that ketches yer style.  Oh, must you go?” she added, as Lucy picked up her gloves.

“Yes; I promised Mrs. Schultz to read to her this afternoon.”

“Well, stop in on yer way back—­I’ll have a little present ready for you.”  It was an unwritten law that no guest should depart without a gift of some kind.  Sometimes it was one of Asia’s paintings, again it was a package of sunflower seed, or a bottle of vinegar, and once Lucy had taken home four gourds and a bunch of paper roses.

“I declare I never will git no work done if this weather keeps up!” said Mrs. Wiggs, as she held the gate open.  “If I wasn’t so stove up, an’ nobody wasn’t lookin’, I’d jes’ skitter ’round this here yard like a colt!”

CHAPTER X

AUSTRALIA’S MISHAP

    “’T is one thing to be tempted,
    Another thing to fall.”

Through the long, sunny afternoon Mrs. Wiggs sang over her ironing, and Asia worked diligently in her flower-bed.  Around the corner of the shed which served as Cuba’s dwelling-place, Australia and Europena made mud-pies.  Peace and harmony reigned in this shabby Garden of Eden until temptation entered, and the weakest fell.

“‘T ain’t no fun jes’ keepin’ on makin’ mud-pies,” announced Australia, after enough pastry had been manufactured to start a miniature bakery.

“Wish we could make some white cakes, like they have at Mr. Bagby’s,” said Europena.

“Could if we had some whitewash.  I’ll tell you what’s let do!  Let ‘s take some of Asia’s paint she’s goin’ to paint the fence with, an’ make ’em green on top.”

“Ma wouldn’t like it,” protested Europena; “besides, I don’t want my little pies green.”

“I’m goin’ to,” said Australia, beginning her search for the paint-can.  “It won’t take but a little teeny bit; they’ll never miss it.”

After some time the desired object was discovered on a shelf in the shed.  Its high position enhanced its value, giving it the cruel fascination of the unattainable.