Then they moved--on West.

You know, Molly.

My maw, she climb up on the front seat--" His wife suddenly turned to him, the tears still in her eyes.
"Yes, and Jesse Wingate, and you know it, your wife's as good a woman as your maw! When the wagon was a-standing, cover on, and you on the front seat, I climb up by you, Jess, same as I always have and always will.
Haven't I always?
You know that.

But it's harder on women, moving is.
They care more for a house that's rain tight in a storm." "I know you did, Molly," said her husband soberly.
"I suppose I can pack my jells in a box and put in the wagon, anyways." She was drying her eyes.
"Why, yes, I reckon so.

And then a few sacks of dried corn will go mighty well on the road." "One thing"-- she turned on him in wifely fury--"you shan't keep me from taking my bureau and my six chairs all the way across! No, nor my garden seeds, all I saved.