you offered ’em.” “They weren’t glad,” protested Lucy indignantly. “They didn’t want to sell the eggs at all, at least two of them didn’t; but the one called Jane insisted on letting me have them.” “What’d they say?” “I couldn’t understand,” Lucy replied. “They seemed to be afraid of displeasing somebody called Martin. They said he wouldn’t like it.” “Martin wouldn’t, eh?” Ellen gave a disagreeable chuckle. “They’re right there. 73 Martin won’t like it. They’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flay them alive for’ doin’ it.” 73 “But why, Aunt Ellen? Why?” inquired Lucy. “Because the Howes hate us, root an’ branch; because they’ve injured an’ insulted us for generations, an’ are keepin’ right on injurin’ an’ insultin’ us. That’s why!” Ellen’s wrath, which had waned a little, again rose to a white heat. “Because they’d go any length to do us harm—every one of ’em.” Again the grip on Lucy’s arm tightened painfully. Dragging the girl to the window the old woman cried: “Do you see that pile of stones over there? That’s the wall the Howes built years an’ years ago—built because of the grudge they bore the Websters, likely. Did you ever look on such an eyesore?” “Why don’t they fix it?” asked Lucy naively. “Yes, why don’t they? You may well ask that!” returned Ellen with scathing bitterness. “Why don’t they? Because they’re too mean an’ stingy—that’s why. Because they think that by lettin’ it go to ruin an’ makin’ my place look like a dump heap, they can drive me 74 to spend my money to do it, so’st they can save theirs. Because they’re such lyin’, deceitful critters they actually pretend the wall don’t belong to ’em anyhow—that it’s mine! Mine! That’s why. So they leave it there, lookin’ like the devil’s own playground, hopin’ that some day I’ll get so sick of seem’ it that way that I’ll build it up.” 74 She choked for breath. “But I shan’t,” she went on. “I never shall, long’s I live. If I was to be drawn an’ quartered I wouldn’t do it. No. If Martin Howe thinks he’s the only person in the world who can hold out for a principle, he’s mistaken. I’ve got a will that can match his, match his an’ beat it,
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