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           Butthemomentthewindincreasedthehouseswentup,andTomretreatedinthetruck,weeping.

           "You’dbettergetdownonyourkneesandthankGodthewinddidn’tpickupwhilethefrontwastothewestofus,"saidMartinKing."Ifithad,notonlywouldthehomesteadhavegone,butusaswell.GodJesus,Ihopethey’reallrightonBeel-Beel!"

           Feehandedhimabigglassofneatrum;hewasnotayoungman,buthehadfoughtaslongasitwasneeded,anddirectedoperationswithamaster’stouch.

           "It’ssilly,"shesaidtohim,"butwhenitlookedasifitallmightgoIkeptthinkingofthemostpeculiarthings.Ididn’tthinkofdying,orofthechildren,orofthisbeautifulhouseinruins.AllIcouldthinkofweremysewingbasket,myhalf-doneknitting,theboxofoddbuttonsI’dbeensavingforyears,myheart-shapedcakepansFrankmademeyearsago.HowcouldIsurvivewithoutthem?Allthelittlethings,youknow,thethingswhichcan’tbereplaced,orboughtinashop."

           "That’showmostwomenthink,asamatteroffact.Funny,isn’tit,howthemindreacts?Irememberin1905mywiferunningbackintothehousewhileIyelledafterherlikeamadman,justtogetatambourwithabitoffancyworkonit."Hegrinned."Butwegotoutintime,thoughwelostthehouse.WhenIbuiltthenewplace,thefirstthingshedidwasfinishthefancywork.Itwasoneofthoseold-fashionedsamplers,youknowthesortImean.Anditsaid‘HomeSweetHome.’"Heputdowntheemptyglass,shakinghisheadoverthestrangenesofwomen.