From that day on Pledge had the responsibility of getting the newspapers to his customers. The only time I helped was when the paper man was late bringing the newspapers to the store. This job gave my brother a feeling of being a young man although he was only twelve.

There were good and bad things about this work. He often saw Aunt Beulah which was nice. There was Mrs. Weaver who always had a muffin or treat of some kind for him. The down side was that some customers were fussy like Mrs. Snootkin. If the Daily Star was not in the same place on her porch every day she complained. The hardest part was collecting his money. Most folks paid on time but he had to make extra trips to others to get his pay.

When school started Pledge had bought his new overalls and shoes. He was one proud lad.

Mama bought new overalls for Terry and Mac. She, also, bought shoes for them. These things she charged at Mr. Ben’s store but would pay for them out of the money she would receive for all the sewing she could handle.

We, girls, each had a new dress for school. Margaret wore the oxfords Cousin Jane had given her. Marcella and I had to wait awhile for new shoes. The old ones had to do.

Mama worked so hard trying to satisfy customers and making our new dresses. Late in the night when we were in bed we could hear the treadle going on the old sewing machine.

On a Saturday Mama gave Margaret permission to visit her mother’s and father’s graves. Mama said I could go with her to the cemetery hill.

We took our short handle broom and a garden spade with us to clean the two plots. On the way we gathered golden rods to place on their graves.

The cemetery was spread across the hill side and there were many graves there. Some of the graves were very old. I felt very strange at first walking over the ground of the silent people in the earth. We read the names on the tombstones until we found the Dexson markers.

Margaret cried at first. I hugged her and she hugged me. It was a tender moment of sorrow. Soon she wiped away the tears and started digging weeds.

"My parents were best friends," she said. "Now they are in Heaven and I wonder what they are doing and what it is like living in Heaven."

"I heard the preacher say that the streets are made of gold and there is a river there so clear it looks like crystal glass," I said. "No one ever dies there, folks just live forever."

"My, oh my!" Exclaimed Margaret with a far away look in her eyes.

As Margaret dug up the weeds, I swept them away from the two graves. My friend-sister carefully laid the golden rods down on the swept graves and we surveyed our work. We were pleased.

At the far end of this grave yard was a little house with two steps on the front. We sat on the steps and talked and talked about Heaven, about our life and death and God. Suddenly our thoughts were back to earth and the chores waiting for us at home.

We started running down the hill and didn’t stop until we reached the flat ground. Then we skipped most of the way to the gray house and were glad to be home again.

There was plenty of work to do at the house. We hung all the pillows on the one clothesline to air in the fall breeze. After I swept the house Margaret mopped our linoleum covered floors. Marcella scrubbed the porches with water Terry brought from the pump. Then I polished everyone’s shoes so we would all look good for church the next day.

Mama baked four pans of light rolls and an apple-sauce cake so she wouldn’t have to bake much on Sunday. At breakfast we would have biscuits.

In the evening I fed our hens and gathered the eggs.

Saturday evenings were always full-bath times. We carried the water to put into tubs. The hot water from the stove tank made the water warm enough for comfort. We washed our hair with Palmolive soap and Mama poured rinse water over our heads. Finally we were so clean that we all smelled clean but that was probably the smell of Palmolive soap.

Everyone got into night clothes. My brown robe was old and thin and I wore it over my flannel gown. Margaret put on the silk pajamas that Cousin Jane had given her.

We were allowed to play games until nine o’clock. Then it was everyone in bed and lights out.

Pledge jumped up to turn off the alarm clock before day light. He splashed cold water from the basin in the kitchen, on his face to get wide awake. The newspaper boy went to Mr. Ben’s store to pick up the Sunday papers. The bundle was heavier than on week days. He was glad to deliver every paper. Each delivery made his load lighter.

As usual Mrs. Weaver had something for him to eat. She gave him a glass of apple juice and two fat oatmeal cookies.

No one was up at Aunt Beulah’s house. In fact most of his customers were still asleep on Sunday morning. Mr. Well’s bull dog barked as Pledge put the newspaper in the tube on the post.

At the house Mama served biscuits, jelly and eggs to the others. After breakfast Terry read the funny papers to Mac while Margaret and I cleaned the dishes.

We all had time to read the ‘funnies’ before we dressed for church. I, especially, like Orphan Annie and the Katzenjammer Kids. Terry’s favorite was Dick Tracy. Margaret liked ‘Lil Abner best.

We all walked to church together that morning. Mama smiled a lot. I think she was glad that we were on our way to worship. As we were leaving the gray house the church bell rang. By the time we were ascending the church hill we heard the congregation singing loudly the song they sang was, When We All Get to Heaven What a Day of Rejoicing that will be.

"Ain’t it a pretty song?" said Margaret.

"It’s a real nice song," returned Mama.

Everyone was already in the pews so we didn’t speak to anyone as we entered the building. We found an empty bench near the back of the church and we filed in line beginning with Margaret. Mama sat down last and the bench was filled.

"Now," said the song leader, "Let’s Sing When We All Get to Heaven, again."

"They’re singing about Heaven," Margaret whispered to me.

"Shuh", said Mama reminding us to be quiet.

I noticed that Aunt Beulah and Cousin Jane were sitting in the second row from the altar.

We Huddle children managed to behave in the worship service. When the service had ended we all went into the church yard to greet our friends, some of them we never saw except at the church.

Aunt Beulah said, "I’ll take you folks home in the Model A."

"No, thank you," returned Terry. "My brothers and I will walk or maybe run. "You lady folks ride."

Margaret, Marcella, Mama and I stepped on the running board and climbed into the car. It wasn’t often that we got to ride in an automobile since Papa left.

Mama invited aunt Beulah and Cousin Jane to join us for lunch. They refused, saying there were things to take care of at home.

"Aunt Beulah, do you have any books I could borrow?" asked Margaret. "I’ll take good care of them."

"Yes, dear," replied Aunt Beulah. She seemed delighted that Margaret wanted to read. "Perhaps you would enjoy reading Little Woman or Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm."

"Sounds great," said Margaret."I really like to read even if I awful with figures."

"I’ll bring them to you today," offered Cousin Jane.

"You need not bother," said Margaret. "Minnie and I can come get them this afternoon, that is if she wants to go and Mama will give us permission."

"Sure," I said.

Mama said that we could if we did not linger there because our relatives would be busy. I did not know what they had to do but I was not going to ask them.

In the afternoon we found ourselves climbing the hill to the Blankenship home but it was worth the climb. We saw many interesting things there. Before we selected a book to read we asked to see the house. The furniture was so grand. There was a beautiful armoire and an old fashioned bed with a high head-board having carvings of lions on it and it was polished to a real shine.

"Aunt Beulah," remarked Margaret, "This is the prettiest house I have ever seen."

Every room had nice furniture and colorful wool rugs. There were tables through out the house decorated with lovely porcelain figurines and wood carvings.

Margaret and I ran our fingers across the white crocheted counterpane. Two young girls pretended to play the piano, wishing that we could really play a tune.

In the living room there was a velvet tapestry hanging over the davenport and in one corner was a grandfather clock. I could hardly believe there was such a big clock even though I saw it with my own eyes. The golden pendulum swinging held my attention for awhile.

I was thinking if Aunt Beulah’s house is so wonderful and great to me, an eleven year old girl, what must the rest of the world be like? Someday when I grow up I will find out for myself. Then my Aunt’s words caught my attention. "Girls, in here is our library," she invited us into a small room.

There were all kinds of books on shelves that covered three walls from floor to ceiling.

On the window wall next to the window was a map of the world; next to the world map was a map of America showing the boundaries of all 48 states.

It was hard for my sister and I to make a decision on the books we wanted to read. There were so many to chose from. A book, The Secret Garden caught my eye. I was curious to know everything about that Secret Garden so I took that book from the shelf. Margaret chose the title, Little Women.

We walked into the kitchen and Cousin Jane gave each of us a glass of grape juice. Then we thanked our relatives and left for our gray house at the end of Dirt Road.

"Let’s take the path through the woods," suggested Margaret.

"Maybe Mama won’t care," I returned. "It is a quicker way to go."

We walked a short distance on the railroad tracks, trying to see how many steps we could take before we lost our balance on the rails. It was fun but we were soon at the path that went through the woods.

"It looks kind of shady-dark in there," I said as we started under the trees. I had second thoughts that maybe it was not a good idea. Maybe we should get back on the tracks and go that way.

"Don’t be a coward," Margaret teased. "It isn’t very hard and we can pick hickory nuts and put them in our pockets.

We could hear the crush of dead leaves beneath our feet. It did not take long to fill our pockets with nuts.

Before we reached the clearing not far from our gray house there was a rustle in the bushes. The light of the sun only filtered through the tree limbs in spots. Margaret and I were afraid. There was another living creature in the woods near us. Maybe it was a wild cat or a grizzly bear. We held our breath, clutching our books to our chest.

A young man dressed in rags with scraggly hair falling over his ears appeared. He was dirty. We could tell by the smell coming from his body.

"Margaret, I’m so scared," I whispered grabbing her arm.

"We’ll fight," Margaret whispered. "When I say, Oh, you kick hard."

"O-o-o-h," he was coming our way. I shivered. Never before had I known such fear.

The man grabbed my left arm and Margaret’s shoulder.

Margaret screamed loudly.

"Shut up, crazy gal," he scolded. Then he said "Ha! Ha! I got what I want, two little girls."

"Oh!" yelled Margaret.

She kicked his shin hard; she had had practice with her cousins. I kicked him much higher. This stunned him. He had figured we would not fight. For a few seconds he stood there and we ran fast, still holding our books. Soon he ran after us but tripped on a dead limb. While he was getting up he managed to reach the clearing and we kept running as fast as our legs would take us until we were in our own back yard.

The dirty young man did not come into the clearing. We never saw him again.

We were out of breath when we arrived at the house but never told the others what happened. That was our secret to keep.

"You must have run fast," Terry said, taking notice of how hard we were breathing.

"Yeah," I returned. "We want to get our chores done so we can read these books after supper."

"I think I’ll rest first," said Margaret sitting down on the steps. I joined her; I too needed to rest a bit.

Marcella and Mac were playing hop-scotch in the back yard. She had talked her brother into playing what he said was a girl’s game by promising to play marbles with him.

Terry and Pledge were pitching horse-shoes out behind the wood shed with the horse-shoes that Mr. Theo had given to Pledge.

It was unusual for Mama to take a nap in the day time but it was Sunday and a day for resting. There was no washing, ironing or sewing on Sunday. But Mama did cook for her six children.

Nights were getting cooler now. After the sun went down, a fire was built in the fireplace to bring warmth into our house.

Pledge made the fire going in the fire place. I stood there in the fire light’s glow, warming myself and thinking of Papa and how he always sat by the fire on cold nights singing songs for us. I wondered what had happened to Papa and where did he go when he left us waiting to hear from him. I cried softly but wiped away the tears quickly when Marcella and Mac came into the room.

"Are you crying?" asked my sister.

"No, does it look that way?" I said.

"Guess you must have something in your eye," she returned. "Mac and I are hungry; where is Mama?"

"Don’t wake her up," I said. "She needs the nap".

Margaret was in the kitchen heating water on the stove so Mama could have tea when she got up. She set the table and cooked potato stew. She opened a little can of sausages and dropped it in the stew.

The meal was ready when Mama came into the kitchen.

"Thanks, dear," Mama said gladly. She never regretted the day that she took Margaret into the family.

When we had eaten, Margaret insisted on washing the dishes and I dried them.

Mama sat down with Marcella and Terry to see that they finished their homework. Marcella was learning the multiplication table. Terry was writing spelling words – each word twenty times.

"I hate spelling," he complained. "Why does old Mrs. Biggs have to give us homework?"

"You will have need to know how to spell," returned Mama. "It will be good to know how to spell when you write to people – maybe a friend or even a sweetheart someday. If you want to apply for a job, knowing how to spell will help much.

After we finished the dishes, I went to my room to read The Secret Garden. Marcella asked me to read the story to her. I said that I would do it.

Margaret went alone to her room to enter the world of reading.

It was a windy night and the wind howled and groaned around the corners of our house. It sounded spooky to me.

"I don’t like the wind," whined Marcella. "It makes me afraid but I don’t know what I am scared of."

"Neither do I like the winds," I said. "Let’s try to sleep."

It was quite sometime before the two of us went to sleep. In the early morning hours the wind died down and it was quiet enough to sleep. In the night I had a dream that Papa was with us and we were at the table eating. He was telling us a story and we were laughing and trying to eat at the same time.

I awoke and knew I had been dreaming. If it was only a dream, I was glad that we were together. One day that dream would come true. At the moment I was of it.