these seemed but a company of ghosts. Even the boy looked old and sad, and no wonder he did, poor lad!
"Don't you never go into the town?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Don't you never have any young company?"
"No."
"Look here," she exclaimed generously. "We'll try to have a little fun while I'm here. I'll liven things up for you. Not in the house, of course, but out among the fruit or in the fields."
He gave her a curious sidelong look, but said nothing.
"My goodness!" she cried, "why don't you speak? Has the pussy got your tongue? Oh, I wish that May were here!"
"Who is May?"
"May's my pal. She's gone home now. She's a regular dear, May is. . . . O-o, what's that writing on the side of the barn? What's it mean?"
In white letters four feet tall on the weather-stained surface were the words—
IF THINE EYE OFFEND THEE
PLUCK IT OUT
The noontide glare struck the words into dazzling brightness. The girl was filled with sudden apprehension. She shrank from entering the barn.
"My goodness," she said, shivering, "what's it for?"
Perkin's look was one of quiet amusement now. "Oh, that's for Joel to see. He's Pa's real son. I'm adopted. Pa and him are enemies, so Pa paints a message up there for him every month. Last month it was somethin' about the serpent's tooth, and we've had lots of 'cursed be he's'—oh, the old man's done some great ones! That's
