two horses and a cow to look after. The chicken house did not cause him much worry because Linda and Enoch always attended to that. Enoch liked to feed the chickens. How he laughed when they came to him when he whistled.
"Dey know me! Dey know me!" he cried jubilantly. "Every single one."
Those were happy nights for Linda. The quietude of the warm house, broken occasionally by the whistling of the wind about the eaves or by the purring of Paw Paw, the kitten stretched at ease at their feet. The warmth of the fire made her think of home, of fier father in the Carolina low country, of the bonfires which had been built so frequently before his cabin-door while all the neighbors grouped around to sing.
Sometimes, when lost in such pleasant reveries, she sang snatches of old songs. She usually did her singing when Enoch had finished playing and all tired out had climbed upon her lap. That was the most perfect hour
of the day. Paw Paw snoozing at her feet,
