John Tucker nodded a slow confirmation. "I remember!" he said. "I ricollect one day--summer day it was, later in the season than this, and warm--I ricollect your Ma settin' on the kitchen steps, an' Mis' Lee settin' beside her. I couldn't but notice what a pictur' they made, kind of showin' of each other off, as you might say. What I mean, your Ma was dark, you understand, leastways her hair and eyes, though she had that kind of soft whiteness that you'd thought there was a light inside, if you see what I mean, Miss Kitty----" Kitty nodded silently. "An' Mis' Lee," John Tucker went on, "was more like a red and white setter pup. No offense to her mem'ry in sayin' so, for she sure was a handsome lady, and I thought the world of her--and Tommy, too!" John Tucker's eyes were bent studiously on the buckle he was polishing. "But what I mean, there they sot, and honest, Miss Kitty, I never go by that kitchen door but I see them two--well, beautiful women is what I would say--settin' there side by each, and your Ma singin' that song, and you two little shavers dancin'. I--gorry! I wish't they was all back, Miss Kitty." John Tucker dashed the back of his hand across his eyes, and gave a single portentous sniff. "Dear John!" Kitty's eyes were brimming, too. She stroked John's blue shirt sleeve very tenderly. "Dear John Tucker, I am so glad you remember. It's a pleasant picture to remember, isn't it, John?" "You bet it is!" John Tucker very gruff with himself, and polishing away like mad. "Mis' Lee, she's gone, too, ain't she, Miss Kitty? Too bad!" "Yes, John, she died three years ago. But Tom is alive," she added cheerfully, "and doing finely, I believe. Don't you want me to sing your own song for you, John? The one you taught me when I was a tiny? I have plenty of time before I go for Mr. Chanter. Do you believe Podasokus will ever get well, John Tucker, dear?" "No'm, I do not; not as long as you and Pilot are handy by!" John Tucker looked up with a twinkle. "What I mean, 'tisn't to be expected, though I don't suppose Mr. Chanter senses how it is. That hoss ought to be put away, Miss Kitty. He ain't fit to drive, no more than an old buff'ler that the moths has got into it. Yes'm, I'd be tickled to death to hear that song, if you feel like singin' it. It's a long time since I've heard that song, Miss Kitty." "I know, John! I haven't sung it since--I haven't sung at all since Mother went, till just these last few days. I don't know why I sing now, but somehow--now listen, John Tucker!" Still perched on the arm of the chair, Kitty lifted up her voice and sang "Cockles and Mussels" till the stable rang with silver sound, and Dan and Pilot stamped and whinnied with excitement, while even Old Crummles, dozing in the farthest stall, raised his sleepy head and wondered what was going on. As for John Tucker, he wept with pleasure, openly and unashamed; those honest blue eyes of his were always ready for tears when he was moved.