Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/199

 the fire. Despite the fact that the night was not chilly she had kindled a bit of a fire in the grate because she did not want to be alone. The fire was always company to her. Sometimes she smiled as she remembered the happenings of that wonderful day. Occasionally she sang softly snatches of old songs. She was not sleepy. She felt so happy, she never needed to sleep again. Jethro Trent had known her boy. He had liked him immensely. Of course he would. Everyone liked Enoch. She was surprised that Enoch had never mentioned Jethro to her. He usually told her about those he met. But then Enoch knew so many people, almost everyone stopped to talk with him, it was hard to remember them all. It had seemed for awhile as though Enoch was back on the farm again.

She rose to her feet and commenced walking about the room fingering a beloved object now and then that brought back sweet memories. She was too excited to remain seated long. Here was a walking stick which Enoch had whittled from a broken tree branch. He