“I always had a knack of snipping things out,” she told Azalea, “and since I bought that there sewing machine with my egg money, I can run a thing up in no time. As luck will have it, I’ve got some crocheted edging that will look well on the neck and sleeves.” A minute later she broke out: “See here, Azalea, you don’t want hot, tight sleeves coming down to your wrist, like you was an old woman! I keep my eyes peeled when I go down to Lee, and I notice them girls at the hotel wears their sleeves about up to their elbows. I don’t say you want yours hiked up quite that high, but we’ll have them somewheres betwixt and between, shan’t we?” Azalea nodded. She had little to say. She was letting all the comfort of being there soak into her as rain soaks into the thirsty earth. “And then as to collars!” broke in ma. “I can’t bear to see a girl with a nice, round little throat, all choked up in a collar. I’ll cut this neck out a little, to give you a chance to crook your neck around like a young owl and look at the world.” And then the machine raced along over the seams and hems, and the scissors snipped at raw edges, and ma’s needle flew in and out. It was left to Azalea and Jim to get supper, which they did well enough. “It’ll give you a chance to learn where everything is,” said ma. “Jim, you show her the spring house and the dishes and everything.” The little girl had cooked over a camp fire more than once, but she had never before set what Ma McBirney called “a nice table.” However, she soon found out the way that the McBirneys wanted things done, and meantime ma sewed on, faster and faster. Her hair got roughed from sitting in the wind, her hands were nervous and her eyes too bright, but she had set her mind on doing that particular thing and nothing that anyone could say to her would stop her. She was at the buttonholes when the rest of the family crept into bed. “Don’t you do any worrying about me,” she bade them. “I’m better satisfied than I ever thought to be again.” So they slept—Azalea on a little ‘knockdown’ that would have to serve till a place had been properly provided for her—and when morning came, on the chair lay the blue frock with its handmade edging, as simple and charming a little gown as any girl in the country would care to wear. Moreover, some faded ribbons had been dyed, and looked almost like new. And there was clean underclothing—not quite the right size, to be sure—and the old shoes had been polished and made to look fit.