David pondered a moment. "Suppose you give him to me awhile," he said. "Let him live with me in my cabin--eat there, sleep there--everything, and we'll see what can be done for him." "I'm willin', more'n willin', when only I can get to help Cass some. Hoyle, he's a heap o' help, with me not able to do a lick. He can milk nigh as well as she can, an' tote in water, an' feed the chick'ns an' th' pig, an' rid'n' to mill fer meal--yas, he's a heap o' help. Cass, she got to get on with th' weavin'. We promised bed kivers an' such fer Miss Mayhew. She sells 'em fer ladies 'at comes to the hotel in summah. We nevah would have a cent o' money in hand these days 'thout that, only what chick'ns 'nd aigs she can raise fer the hotel, too. Hit's only in summah. I don't rightly see how we can spare Hoyle." "Where's Miss Cassandra now?" he asked, only more determined on his course the more he was hampered by circumstances. "She's in the loom shed weavin'. I throwed on the warp fer a blue and white bed kiver 'fore I war hurt, an' she hain't had time to more'n half finish hit. I war helpin' to get the weavin' done whilst she war at school this winter, an' come spring she war 'lowin' to come back an' help Frale with the plantin' an' makin' crap fer next year. Here in the mountains we-uns have to be forehanded, an' here I be an' can't crawl scarcely yet." After the thrifty soul had taken a few steps, instead of realizing her good fortune in being able to take any, she was bitterly disappointed to find that weeks must still pass ere she could walk by herself. She was seated on her little porch where David had helped her, looking out on the growing things and the blossoming spring all about--a sight to make the heart glad; but she saw only that the time was passing, and it would soon be too late to make a crop that year. She was such a neat, self-respecting old woman as she sat there. Her work-worn old hands were not idle, for she turned and mended Hoyle's funny little trousers, home-made, with suspenders attached. "I don't know what-all we can do ef we can't make a crap. We won't have no corn nor nothin', an' nothin' to feed stock, let alone we-uns. We'll be in a fix just like all the poor white trash, me not able to do a lick." David came and sat beside her a few moments and said a great many comforting things, and when he rose to go the world had taken on a new aspect for her eyes--bright, dark eyes, looking up at him with a gleam of hope. "I believe ye," she said. "We'll do anything you say, Doctah."