The teams stopped at the barn and men came up the hill bearing a white burden.

Behind them followed the minister who yesterday had performed their marriage ceremony, and after him a choir of trained singers softly chanting: "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, For they shall cease from their labours." "But David," panted the Girl, "It was mean and poor.

That is not she!" "Sush!" said the Harvester.

"It is your mother.

The location was high and dry, and it has been only a short time.