months she was stretched on the rack, wept because her old hat was such a sight, and a scheme of steaming the velvet over the teakettle and putting a feather "fancy" on the side resulted in a worse mess than before.
"You'd a right to buy a new hat, with Joe comin home," Effa told her.
"I can't afford it, and I guess Mister Joe won't care what an old woman like me looks like."
"Now, listen, Mis' Green, you're just talkin' foolish cause you're nervous. You wash your eyes and go on down to Small's. I'll feed the both of yuh on boiled rice till we make it up."
Oh, it was cold! Tiny flakes sifted from a lead-gray sky. Suppose there was a blizzard, and Joe's train was held up? Well, if it was, she would die, that was all there was to it.
"I don't suppose it's any use asking you for something inexpensive, Miss Minnie."
"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Green! You're quite a stranger!"
"My son's coming home to-morrow!"
"Is that a fact? Well, now, we'll have to find something real pretty to celebrate. How about this little black-and-gold wrap-around turban?"
"Now, Miss Minnie, you know me better than that! I'm ages too old."
"Goodness! how you talk! Why, Mrs. Jackson was just in and bought a little hat in the new le diable
