the beauty of the skies, of the birds, of Sally, and yet not be able to put to words the song they created in his soul.
It was long past noon before the bullet-makers had finished their task and returned to Mistress Harrison's. Sally had busied herself preparing dinner, assisted by Chloe and another slave, so that the weary women, coming in from the cornfield, were greeted by the sight of hot viands set forth upon a long table which Zenas had made with planks under some great chestnut trees.
"Ye be a good little housewife, Sally," said Mistress Keturah beamingly, "to go ahead thus for me!"
Mistress Williams turned away from the four-poster bed upon which she had laid the little sleeping Nathaniel. "Zenas tells me there was a raiding party come this morn," she said, half questioningly.
Sally stared hard at the boy, who had followed his mother into the cabin. "Aye," she answered evasively, trying to catch Zenas's eye.
"How did the news o' our bullet-making reach the enemy, suppose ye?" interrupted Mistress Harrison. But the next instant, to Sally's enormous relief, the hostess grasped Mistress Williams by the arm playfully. "Hear ye! The rest be calling to us. Best hurry or I vow those hungry women will leave us naught to eat!" And, giggling like two
