had been woven by the deft fingers of her mother, with the aid of
the old spinning wheel, which in those days formed a part of every
household. The dark stockings were knitted by the same busy fingers,
with the help of the flashing needles; and the shoes, put together
by Peleg Quintin, the humpbacked shoemaker, were heavy and coarse,
and did not fit any too well.

The few simple articles of underwear were all homemade, clean,
and comfortable, and the same could be said of the clothing of the
brother and of the mother herself.

Alice came running out of the open front door, bounding off the big
flat stone which served as a step with a single leap, and, running
to a spot of green grass a few yards away, where there was not a
bit of dirt or a speck of dust, she sat down and began the game of
which I told you at the opening of this story.

Alice was left handed. So when she took position, she leaned over
to the right, supporting her body with that arm, while with the
other hand she tossed the little jagged pieces of stone aloft,
snatching up the others, and letting the one that was going up and
down in the air drop into her chubby palm.

She had been playing perhaps ten minutes, when she found someone
was watching her.

She did not see him at first, but heard a low, deep "Huh!" partly
at one side and partly behind her.

Instead of glancing around, she finished the turn of the game on