But later her talent helped her through many dark hours. With it she could sometimes lighten fear and trouble by her own feeble attempts to create. A funny face would appear on a brown shopping bag. A white box lid became a winter scene. She remembered that in her floor scrubbing years there was a time when she worked in a school house. How tempting was the black-board when a piece of chalk had been carelessly left in the trough! Once she had almost completed a picture of a city street when a fellow employee poked her head around the half closed door. Ada quickly smudged the picture with her floor cloth. But the time came when she _had_ to stop work. No more would the old joints bend and stretch. Then Ellie came to her room one evening with determination in her eyes. "I'm taking you to another home, Mother," she said, firmly. Ada was too tired to protest. "Where?" she asked. "Let's play a kind of game," said Ellie. "Close your eyes and I will lead you." Like a child Ada agreed. Before they left the rooming house that had been her home for so many years she closed her eyes and put her wrinkled hand into Ellie's. "Is it far?" she asked, trustingly. "Not far, Mother. Don't look until I say so." "I promise," laughed Ada. A short walk and around a corner. Ada kept her promise, even when going into another house and up the stairs. Then Ellie said: "Open your eyes, Mother." Ada looked and she was in the middle of a well lighted room. A thick carpet was on the floor, bright paper on the wall, a luxurious bed room suite, a roomy easy chair and beside it a radio. "This is your room," Ellie said, softly. Ada stared, speechless. Then Ted and Carl and Alfred crowded into the room. Ada's gaze went from one familiar face to the other before she realized that she was in the front room of their house. Once more flared the old independence. "B-but--all this. You can't afford all this," she protested. Ted put his arm around her shoulders. "A fellow can get a raise." What blessed comfort to the old bones was the soft mattress, compared to the lumpy one in her recent quarters. The fine wool blankets, compared to the rough scratchy ones. The quilted gown to keep her cozy when sitting on the big chair. The fleece-lined slippers for her bunioned feet. And now the last year stood out clearly. She had been in the comfortable bed most of the time and there was a white clad nurse to give her the best of care. There was no pain--just weakness. Frequently there appeared a doctor. And the tray, filled with delicacies! Everything she craved, in and out of season. Like a child she had taken all this for granted but with great enjoyment. Now Ellie and Howard went slowly out of the room and Ada moved with them. She realized that only a few minutes had passed since she began to examine the body and bring it up to date.