Poor Jobe! Little did he think, or me either, some thirty-six years ago, that in our old age we would be turned from our home by the law of our country. Little did we think that when we got old Jobe would have to go hundreds of miles from home, and out among strangers, a beggin for work to feed us by. [Illustration: “Then sot down and cried, and kept a cryin every little bit all mornin.”] Jist to think of all the interest money and payments we have give Congressman Richer—some $3,800 all told. If interest had been less we would have had our home, and had it nearly paid for, and Jobe would not be gone out into the world to hunt work. If we had half or a quarter of that interest money we could buy us a little home to stay in the few remainin years of our lives. But, then, interest must be kept up, and the law inforced, so as to enable Mr. Richer and his likes to live in style and assert the dignity of their citizenship. It has to be done, no matter if the hardworkin poor people are turned out of their homes and those that love each other are parted. If Jesus was here and a makin laws, I wonder if he would have interest, and foreclosin, and turnin out, and all that? [Illustration] CHAPTER XXXIX. THE PREACHER AND THE SALOONKEEPER. MY heart is so broke that I hardly know how to rite. This is March 3d, and yisterday arternoon they put me out. I had about give up their comin, and was tryin to feel better, when all of a suddint I heerd a knock at the door. I opened it, and there stood three strange men. Said the one who acted as leader: “Is this where the Gaskinses live?” Says I: “One of them is stayin here, and the Lord only knows where the other one is.” “I am a deputy sheriff,” says he, “and have orders to set you out.” Says I: “Where is Mr. Richer?” “In Washington,” says he. “Where is his agent—his lawyer?” says I. “In town,” says he. “Well, dont they have to be here to put me out?” says I. “No,” says he; “the law puts you out for them.” “Well, Mistur,” says I, “couldent you let me stay a little longer? Jobe’s gone to hunt work and a place to move to. If you will let me stay, as soon as he finds it Ile go out without your botherin.” “I cant do it, Mrs. Gaskins,” says he; “the law must be inforced. The law is no respecter of persons.” Says I, pleadin like: “You see, I am a old woman, and not stout. Jobe is away, and I am here alone. If the law is no respecter of persons, why should it come here and put me out of a home that we have paid over $3,800 toward, jist to please the man that we have paid the money to?” He shook his head. “Where are you a goin to put me?” says I. “I am goin to put you out,” says he; “out in the big road yonder, off these premises.” Says I: “Mistur, please dont be so cruel as that. It would kill me to sleep out there all nite. Please let me stay a little longer—jist a little longer.”