The coverlet patterns were beautiful, but not more so than their names--"Dogwood Blossom and Trailing Vine," "Star of the East," "Queen Anne's Favor-rite," "Snail-Trail and Cat-Track," "Pine-Bloom," "Flower of Edinboro." A perfect one in old-rose and cream was pulled out and laid across the burying-sheet on the visitors' bed. "That is my prettiest. I weaved hit when Lot and me were courting, for my marriage-bed. You shall lay under hit to-night." From the large room where the "kivers" were kept, and which seemed spacious in spite of its three fat beds, its home-made bureau, chest, and shelves, several split-bottomed chairs, and a large fireplace, the guests were taken into "t'other house," the remaining large room, which held a dining-table, a cupboard, a bed, and an immense fireplace where the cooking was done. On the hearth were pots and spiders, and from the rafters hung festoons of red peppers and shucky beans, and hanks of bright-colored wool. Then they made a round in the yard, beneath the apple trees, to look at the strong old log-house from every side. "This here oldest house," said Aunt Ailsie, designating the kitchen-room, "was raised by Lot's paw eighty year gone. Lot, being the youngest boy, stayed at home with the old folks; and when him and me was married, he raised t'other house and put the porch in front and back. We have lived here forty-six year." There was not a window in either "house"--only doors, back and front. The interest of the visitors in the spinning and weaving, and even in the old house itself, Aunt Ailsie could understand, but not the delight they expressed in the scenery roundabout--the rocky branch, the cliffs and steep mountain-slopes in front, the precipitous corn-fields reaching halfway up the ridges in the rear. "I have looked upon creeks and mountainsides too long to enjoy 'em proper," she sighed. "Though maybe, if I was to get away from 'em, I'd feel lonesome-like, like Fulty did down at Frankfort. Hit was mighty hard on him down there." The two women shuddered at the thought of the free, wild boy chafing for a year within penitentiary walls. "And hit done him more harm than good, too; he's been more wild-like ever sence. But, women, whilst I ricollect hit, I feel to tell you afore my man Lot gets in, not to pay no notice to nothing he says or does. He follers Solomon's counsel about strange women, and hit's untelling what he may do or say when he sees you here." "Hit is that," agreed Ruthena; "paw's a mighty resolute man." "And he hain't heared the news yet about your taking the night with us," added Aunt Ailsie, anxiously. Shortly after this, Uncle Lot, hoe in hand, and all unsuspecting, stepped gravely up on the porch, and stopped in blank amazement. "Here's two of the furrin women, paw, drapped in to see us--Virginny and Amy's their names."