“‘I ain’t seen you down in town fur quite a spell,’ he sez. ‘How are you all up there to the farm?... Want to say I’m real proud o’ Nat—a boy from round here!’ he sez.... Old Beckonridge, that was always wantin’ to arrest Nat fur takin’ his chestnuts or foolin’ down in the store! “I just let ’em drift—seein’ they had it all fixed fur me. All along the street they come an’ spoke to me. Mame Parmlee, that ain’t b’en able to see me fur three years, left off sweepin’ her porch an’ come down an’ shook my hand, an’ cried about it; an’ that stylish Mis’ Willowby, that’s president o’ the Civil Club, followed me all over the Square and asked dare she read a copy o’ the letter an’ tell about Nat to the school-house next Wednesday. “It seems Judge Geer had gone out an’ spread it broadcast that I was in town, for they followed me everywhere. Next thing I run into Reverend Kearns and Reverend Higby, huntin’ me hard. They both had one idee. “‘We wanted to have a memor’al service to the churches ’bout Nat,’ they sez; ‘then it come over us that it was the town’s affair really. So, Mis’ Haynes,’ they sez, ‘we want you should share this thing with us. You mustn’t be selfish. You gotta give us a little part in it too. Are you willin’?’” “It knocked me dumb—me givin’ anybody anything! Well, to finish, they’s to be a big public service in the Town Hall on Friday. They’ll have it all flags—French ones, an’ our’n too. An’ the ministers’ll preach; an’ Judge Geer’ll tell Nat’s story an’ speak about him; an’ the Ladies’ Guild’ll serve a big hot supper, because they’ll probably be hundreds out; an’ they’ll read the letters an’ have prayers for our Nat!” She faltered a moment. “An’ we’ll be there too—you an’ me an’ Tom—settin’ in the seat o’ honor, right up front!... It’ll be the greatest funeral service this town’s ever seen, Luke.” Maw’s face was crimson with emotion. “An’ Uncle Clem an’ Aunt Mollie—” “Oh—them!” Maw came back to earth and smiled tolerantly. “They was real sharp to be in it too. Mollie took me into the parlor an’ fetched a glass o’ wine to stren’then me up.” Maw mused a moment; then spoke with a touch of patronage: “I’m goin’ to knit Clem some new socks this winter. He says he can’t git none like the oldtime wool ones; an’ the market floors are cold. Clem’s done what he could, an’ I’ll be real glad to help him out.... Oh, I asked ’em to come an’ set with us at the service—S’norta too. I allowed we could manage to spare ’em the room.” She dreamed again, launched on a sea of glory; then roused to her final triumph: