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"Come in," he shouted, when he heard Bud's stamping feet on the porch. "Come in and warm. Who's sick, Melissa or the baby?" Bud unwound the scarf that protected his ears, shook the water from his jacket, and began to untie the strings that secured pieces of sacking to his feet. "Ne'er one. M'lissy's tol'able, 'n the baby's right smart.
"I want to see your daughter, the young girl, the one that walked to Los Angeles the other day," she said, looking at the woman. "M'lissy?" queried Mrs. Sproul anxiously. "Lysander, do you know if M'lissy's about?" Her husband nodded backward. "She's over in the orchard, lookin' after the water. I'll" The stranger took two or three steps toward him and put out her hand. "May I go to her?
I want to see you at some time." "Ah'll watch out fo' ye when you-all's unhitchin' yo' mule." "Very well. I'm going in a few minutes. You do not come in?" "No. Hit's M'lissy's party, 'n she 'n me ain' friends." "Here, take this, then." Friedrich dropped his partly filled poke into the ready, uplifted hand. "I had my supper very late to-night," he explained to Mrs.
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