There ain't no names quite like the old ones though, Nor never will be to my way of thinking. One mustn't bear too hard on the new comers, But there's a dite too many of them for comfort. I should feel easier if I could see More of the salt wherewith they're to be salted. Son, you do as you're told! You take the timber-- It's as sound as the day when it was cut-- And begin over----' There, she'd better stop. You can see what is troubling Granny, though. But don't you think we sometimes make too much Of the old stock? What counts is the ideals, And those will bear some keeping still about." "I can see we are going to be good friends." "I like your 'going to be.' You said just now It's going to rain." "I know, and it was raining. I let you say all that. But I must go now." "You let me say it? on consideration? How shall we say good-bye in such a case?" "How shall we?" "Will you leave the way to me?" "No, I don't trust your eyes. You've said enough. Now give me your hand up.--Pick me that flower." "Where shall we meet again?" "Nowhere but here Once more before we meet elsewhere." "In rain?" "It ought to be in rain. Sometime in rain. In rain to-morrow, shall we, if it rains? But if we must, in sunshine." So she went. The Housekeeper I LET myself in at the kitchen door. "It's you," she said. "I can't get up. Forgive me Not answering your knock. I can no more Let people in than I can keep them out. I'm getting too old for my size, I tell them. My fingers are about all I've the use of So's to take any comfort. I can sew: I help out with this beadwork what I can." "That's a smart pair of pumps you're beading there. Who are they for?" "You mean?--oh, for some miss. I can't keep track of other people's daughters. Lord, if I were to dream of everyone Whose shoes I primped to dance in!" "And where's John?" "Haven't you seen him? Strange what set you off To come to his house when he's gone to yours. You can't have passed each other. I know what: He must have changed his mind and gone to Garlands. He won't be long in that case. You can wait. Though what good you can be, or anyone-- It's gone so far. You've heard? Estelle's run off." "Yes, what's it all about? When did she go?" "Two weeks since." "She's in earnest, it appears." "I'm sure she won't come back. She's hiding somewhere. I don't know where myself. John thinks I do. He thinks I only have to say the word, And she'll come back. But, bless you, I'm her mother-- I can't talk to her, and, Lord, if I could!" "It will go hard with John. What will he do? He can't find anyone to take her place." "Oh, if you ask me that, what will he do? He gets some sort of bakeshop meals together, With me to sit and tell him everything,