Her ruddy face was wrinkled up somewhat like an apple in the late fall.

She walked slowly and ponderously, and her gait being somewhat restricted, it was needful that she make an early start each day to her place of labor, since the only possible boarding place lay almost a mile below Sim Gage's ranch.

She had been the only applicant for this school, and perhaps was the only living being who could have contented herself in that capacity in this valley.

Wid Gardner pulled at the edge of his broken hat as he stepped down the narrow road to meet her.
"'Morning, Mis' Davidson," said he.
"Good morning, Mr.Gar-r-r-dner," boomed out the great voice of Mrs.
Davidson.

"It is apparently promising us fair weather, sir-r-r." Mrs.Davidson spoke with a certain singular rotund exactness, and hence was held much in awe in all these parts.
"Yes, ma'am," said Wid, "it looks like it would rain, but it won't." "Your hay in that case would not flourish so well, Mr.Gar-r-r-dner ?" said she.
"Without rain, not worth a damn, ma'am, so to speak.