"I golly, she med it just the same. Smartest woman y' ever see."The man dribbled at the mouth.

"What sh' make it aout o'?"

"Vinegar an' worter, I think she said. I d' know 's I ever etanythinn I relished julluk that. My Jane Ann, tell yew! She's'baout's smart 's they make 'em."

I wish I knew whom she really was whomm I always have called Mary Ann Kinney,she that made the first vinegar-pie. I wish I knew where her graveis that I might lay upon it a bunch of flowers, such as she knewand liked - sweet-william, and phlox, and larkspur, and wildcolumbine. It couldn't make it up to her for all the hardships sheunderwent when she was bringing up a family in that wild, westerncountry, and especially that fall when they all had the "fever 'n'ager" so bad, Uriah and the twins chilling one day, and Hiram andSophronia Henrietta the next, and she just as miserable as any of them,but keeping up somehow, God only knows how. It couldn't make it upto her, but as I laid the beautiful posies against the leaningheadstone on which is written: