"It air good o' ye, Tess," he thanked her, puffing. "Me an' ma air lonesome--me an' ma air." Tessibel touched him with affectionate assurance. "I love ye, an' Mammy Longman, too," she smiled. "I air glad to bring somethin' when I can." For a few moments they sat quietly, the man smoking his pipe. Then he slowly knocked the ashes from its bowl, giving it a final rap in the hollow of his hand. "Every day me an' ma miss Myry an' Ezry more," said he, stolidly. "Us uns just plumb lately made up our minds both them kids was too good to live, but us uns'd be awful satisfied to know if they air happy." Tessibel brightened. She flashed a radiant smile at the sad-faced man. "Sure, they be happy!" she ejaculated. "Everybody air happy in Heaven; Ben Letts air a singin' 'round the throne jest the same's the rest of 'em air." In open disbelief Longman slowly shook his head. "Myry never could sing--Myry couldn't," he answered, moodily, and his voice sank on the last two words. Tess knew that, too, for she had heard the young mother try many times to quiet the brat with the uneven, discordant tones of her voice; but she knew, too, the great difference between Heaven and earth. She gazed out over the lake dreamily. "But ye see, 'Satisfied' darlin'--" she began. "An' once, when Ben were soused," interrupted Longman, hoarsely, "I heard 'im singin', 'Did ye ever go into an Irishman's shanty?' It were more like a frog croakin' than a man singin'." "But folks don't never get soused in Heaven," Tessibel imparted, reverently, "an' they got a mess o' angels up there--" She looked upward, a solemn expression on her young face--"angels what Jesus keeps jest to learn folks how to sing. The brat's singin' too, as much as a little kid can, 'Satisfied'." She edged a little nearer and slipped an arm around the fisherman's shoulders. "It air just like this, honey, down here there air such a lot of work jest to get fish an' beans. Up in Heaven they don't do nothin' but dance around the throne an' sing all day. So everybody's got to learn how or he wouldn't have nothin' to do." "Well, I swan!" ejaculated "Satisfied," smiling wryly. "Will ye tell ma about it like ye did me, Tessie? Ma air been worryin' fearin' Myry weren't comf'table." Tess bobbed her curly head. "I'll tell 'er in a minute," she assured him; "but, 'Satisfied,' I were a goin' to ask ye somethin'." Longman nodded. "An' I were goin' to ask you somethin' too, brat," he said. "How air the singin' goin' in church?" Tessibel sparkled like the morning dew. "Oh, it air goin' fine, 'Satisfied.' I love it more'n more. Miss Young helps me with my songs an' she's learnin' me to sew, too. Why, I git my five dollars every Sunday jest as reg'lar as Sunday comes. I ain't never knew how far a fiver could go afore. We won't be needin' nothin' this winter, Daddy and me won't, dear." She gave a delicious giggle to which Longman added a chuckle.