"That's 'cause the words ain't usu'ly alike."
"What?"
"Why, Allee and me have always fitted talking words into our song music and—"
"I don't understand, I am afraid."
"Why, we just sing things instead of talking them like other folks would. They don't rhyme, but they fit into tunes which we like, and our Gleaners' motto song is our favorite, so that's the one we usu'ly hum, and that's how you hear it so much."
"Then sing the motto song. The tune is very pretty."
"Yes, it is pretty, but the reason we like it so well is 'cause it sounds glad. We never can sing it when we're cross or bad. It's made just for sunshine."
Softly she began to chant the words:
"'In a world where sorrow
Ever will be known
Where are found the needy
And the sad and lone.'"
Peace was right in saying that she could not sing, and yet her happy voice, warbling out those joyous words, made very sweet music that bright May morning. The lines of weariness gradually left the invalid's face, a feeling of rest stole over her, and with a tired little sigh, she closed her eyes.