contentment in them as she followed Claude's motions. She watched
him as if he were a baby playing. Her hands lay comfortably in
her lap.

"Mr. Ernest ain't been over for a long time. He ain't mad about
nothin', is he?"

"Oh, no! He's awful busy this summer. I saw him in town
yesterday. We went to the circus together."

Mahailey smiled and nodded. "That's nice. I'm glad for you two
boys to have a good time. Mr. Ernest's a nice boy; I always liked
him first rate. He's a little feller, though. He ain't big like
you, is he? I guess he ain't as tall as Mr. Ralph, even."

"Not quite," said Claude between strokes. "He's strong, though,
and gets through a lot of work."

"Oh, I know! I know he is. I know he works hard. All them
foreigners works hard, don't they, Mr. Claude? I reckon he liked
the circus. Maybe they don't have circuses like our'n, over where
he come from."

Claude began to tell her about the clown elephant and the trained
dogs, and she sat listening to him with her pleased, foolish
smile; there was something wise and far-seeing about her smile,
too.

Mahailey had come to them long ago, when Claude was only a few
months old. She had been brought West by a shiftless Virginia