morning, my chapped feet didn’t hurt me as usual, so from one uncle’s house I went to another and around until I had told all my cousins that we were going to Silverton to live, that I was sorry, I hated to leave them, but the demand was great. The city was calling for us and we would perhaps have to go.
At Grandmother Geer’s I found Grandmother Davenport, who had beat me over. She was old, but as spry as a sixteen-year-old girl. As the two grandmothers stood side by side on the porch as I approached, I thought of what two perfect women they were. The earth’s surface could have been combed and two finer types of womanhood could not have been found. As I had no mother, these two old ladies had reared me, and in a way they seemed more like mothers than grandmothers.
Up to this time the feeling of delight had made it possible for my bare feet just to touch the high places, but here at Grandmother Geer’s things took on a serious aspect. I yelled to them, “Halloa,” as I was opening the old gate that led past the big yellow rose bush, and all they did was to let their heads lop over on the one shoulder and smile. When I came
