"Land's sakes!" snapped his wife, exasperated that he should bethinking of the same thing that she was. "Land's sakes! Haow d'ye s'pose I kin make a pie when I hain't got e'er a thing to make itaout o'? You gimme suthirnn to make it aout o', an' you see haowquick - "

"I ain't a-faultinn ye, Mary Ann," interposed Uriah gently. "Iknow haow 't is. I was on'y tellin' ye. I git I git a kind o'hum'sick occasionally. 'Pears like as if I sh'd feel more resignedlike . . . . Don't ye cry, Mary Ann. I know, I know. You feeljulluk I do 'baout back home, an' all luk that."

0 woman! When the heft of thy intellect is thrown against aproblem, something has got to give. Not long after, Uriah sitsdown to dinner, and can hardly ask a blessing, he has to swallowso. A pie is on the table!

"Gosh, Jane Ann, but this is good!" says he, holding out his armfor the third piece. "This is lickinn good!" And he celebrates herachievement far and wide.