get dinner at her house. 'Why were they queer?' 'Why, because they did funny things, and were squintin' along the road and across the meadows,' 'Squinting?' I repeated. 'Yes,' she explained; 'they had three wooden legs, that had a funny brass and glass fixin' on top, that they squinched through, and then they'd make marks in books and stick sticks in the ground.' Surveyors, I thought. 'And,' went on the child, 'they used to say, before they came into dinner, "don't talk!"' "Ah! I pricked up my ears! Surveyors doing work that was not to be talked of. I dropped another nickel into the child's hand. 'Tell me,' I asked, 'what the funny men said outside the house, when they were squinting through the meadows.' The child's face clouded. 'They didn't say nothin'! Must I give back the nickel now?' 'Oh,' I urged, 'they must have talked among themselves, and you must have heard a word now and then, when you were watching them or playing. Come, think a bit! Perhaps I have another nickel.' Her eyes shone--she knit her brows and bit her lips. 'Well,' she said, doubtfully, 'I 'spose just words without no sense to 'em ain't no use? But they did use to say things about "the shops," and they said, too, "beds" many times.' 'Beds?' I repeated. 'Are you sure?' 'Yes, beds, 'cause I thought it was a funny thing for a man to say! And--oh, yes! Once, over by that mud flat, they said that their "beds" would cost lots of money, and one man said they might be glad there wasn't snakes here to cost more. And I told 'em there was snakes in some places, and they laughed at me, they did.' I caught her hand, and said: 'Lou, think again. Did not the men talk of "road-beds"?' I held my breath till the answer came. 'Well, my ma says I'm a fool, and I guess I am. That is just the kind of beds they said, "road-beds."' 'Oh, thank you, thank you!' I replied, for, like a cheap modern god, I showered my small Danaë, not with gold, but with nickels and with dimes.