Newspaper Page Text
Saturday, November 29, 1924.
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N N - PHINEAS AND
► THE MOTOR CAR -
y r> In Which Gasoline Takes Over the Job ail Furnishing
* Motive Power of Mr, Cupid '
By ELEANOR PORTER
Author of “Pollyanna, n u Just David," Etc. ><
Copyright by meaner H. Porter. N
XXXYI I I nnm n in xwmwm
P HINEAS used to wonder,
times, just when It was he began
to court Dlantha Bowman, the rosy
cheeked, golden-haired idol of his boy
hood. Diantha’s cheeks were not rosy
now, and her hair was more silver than
gold, but she was not yet his wife
And he had tried so hard to win
her! Year after year the rosiest ap
pies from his orchard and the choicest
honey from his apiary had found their
way to Diantha’s table; and year
after year the county fair and village
picnic had found him at Diantha’s door
with his old mare and his buggy,
ready to be her devoted slave for the
day. Nor was Dlantha unmindful of
ail these attentions. She ate the ap
pies and the honey, and spent long
contented hours in the buggy; but she
still answered his pleadings with her
gentle: “I lialn’t no call to marry yet,
Phineas,” and nothing he could do
seemed to hasten her decision in the
least. It was the mare and the buggy,
however, that proved to be responsible
for what was the beginning of the
end. •
They were on their way home from
the county fair, The mare, head
hanging, was plodding through the
dust, when around the curve of the
road shot the one automobile that the
town boasted. The next moment the
whizzing thing had passed, and left a
superannuated old mare looming
through a cloud of dust and dancing
on two wabbly hind legs.
Plague take them autymobilesr
snarled Phineas through set tefeth, as
he sawed at the reins. “I nx pardon,
I’m sure, Dianthy,” he added shame
facedly, when the mare had dropped
to a position more nearly normal; “but
I hain t no use fur them ’ere contrap
tions !”
Dlantha frowned, She was fright
ened—and because she was frightened
she was angry._____She said the first
*thing that came into her head—and
never had she spoken to Phineas SO
sharply.
“If you’d have some use for ’em,
Phineas Hopkins, you wouldn’t be
crawlin’ along in a shiftless old rig
like this; you’d have one yourself an’
be somebody! For my part, I like’
’em, an’ I’m jest achin’ ter ride in ’em,
too! h
Phineas almost dropped the reins
in his amazement. “Achin’ ter ride 1
ln ’em,” she had said—and all that he !
could give her was this “shiftless old 1
rig” that she so scorned. He remem
bered something else, too, and his face
flamed suddenly red. It was Colonel
Smith who owned and drove that au
tomobile, and Colonel Smith, too, was
a bachelor. What if— Instantly in
Phineas’ soul rose a fierce Jealousy.
u I like a hoss, myself,” he said, with
some dignity. “I want somethin’ that’s
alive!”
Diantha laughed slyly, The dan
ger was past, and she could afford to
be merry.
it Well, it strikes me that
you come
pretty near havin’ somethin’ that
wa’n’t alive jest ’cause you had some
thin’ that was!" she retorted. “Really,
Phineas, I didn’t s’posa Dolly could
move so fast!”
Phineas brindled.
, “Dolly knew how tev move once,”
he rejoined grimly, ’Cause nobody
pretends ter say she’s young now,'any
more’n we be,” he finished with some
defiance. But he dropped visibly at
Diantha’s next words.
<( Why, I don’t feel old, Phineas, an’
I nin’t old , either,. Lo ok at Colonel
Smith; he's jest my age, an’ he’s got
a autymobile. Mebbe I’ll have one
some day.
To Phineas It seemed that a cold
hand clutched 'his heart.
“Dianthy, you wouldn’t really—ride
ln one!” he faltered.
Until that moment Diantha had not
been sure that she would, but the
quaver in Phineas’ voice decided her.
“Wouldn’t I? £ou jest wait an’
see!”
And Phineas did wait—and he did
see. He saw Dlantha, not a week
later, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed,
sitting by the side of Colonel Smith
in that hated automobile. Nor did he
stop to consider that Dlantha was only
one of a dozen upon whom Colonel
Smith, In the enthusiasm of his new
possession, was pleased to bestow that
attention. To Phineas it could mean
but one thing, and he did not change
his opinion when he heard Diantha’s
account of the ride.
“It wa* perfectly lovely,” she
breathed. “Oh, Phineas, it was Jest
like fly In'!”
tt i Flyin!' t* Phineas could Ray
no
more. He felt as lf he were choking
—choking with the dust raised by
Dolly’s plodding hoofs.
“An’ the trees an’ the houses swept
by like ghosts,” continued Diantha.
• • Why, Phineas, I could a’ rode on an’
on furever! •>
P.efore the ecstatic rapture in Dl
arithn's face Phineas went down in de
feat. Without one word he turned
away—but ln his heart he registered
a segemn vow: he, too, would have an
automobile; he, too, would make Dl
antha wish to ritle on and on for
ever 1
Arduous days came then to Phineas.
Phineas was not a rich man. He had
enough for his modest wants, but un
;«. 4,
[®now an automobile—until those wanta had now not he included had not
! kmwrn tbat Dlantha wished to fly. All
through the antumn and winter
! Ph!neas pinched and economized until
he had lo PP ed off 11,1 of the luxuries
and raost of the P*easu«« of living.
Bven then lt la doubtful lf he would
liave accomplished his purpose had
be no *’ * n * be s P r *ng, fallen heir to a
modest legacy of a few thousand dol
lars ’ The news of hu good fortune
wus not two ,10urs old when he sou S ht
D,an,h *
“* cal’iate mebba I’ll be gettln’ me
one °’ them ’ ere autyraoblles this
s P r,n «-” he 8J ' ld , us l f casually filling a
part of the conversation,
“Phineas!”
At tI,e awed ln DIan tha’s voice
the man ’ 8 heart glowed within him.
Thls one moment °f triumph was
worth a11 th e long miserable winter
wlth lts butterless bread and tobacco
less plpes - But 1,e carefully hid his
^ oy wllen he 8 P°he.
“ Yes " he said nonchalantly. “I’m
goin’ ter Boston next week ter pick
one out. I eaTIate on gettin’ a purty
good one. t*
“Oh, Phineas! But how—how you
goin’ ter run lt?”
Phineas’ chin came up.
“Run it!” he scoffed. “Well, Ihain’t
had no trouble yet steerin’ a hoss, an’
1 cal’late I won’t have any more
steerin’ a mess o' senseless metal what
hain’t got no eyes ter be seein’ things
an’ glttin* scared! I don’t worry none
’bout runnin’ it.
: 1 But, Phineas, it ain’t steerin’,” ven
tured Diantha, timidly. "There's lots
l* M.
//
(•
s
Vi
TV'/*
Just Ahead There Wa* a Sharp Curve.
of little handles and things ter turn,
an’ there’s some tilings you do with
your feet. Colonel Smith did.”
The name Smith to Phineas was like
a match to gunpowder. He flamed in
stantly Into wrath.
•. Well, I cal'lnto what Colonel Smith
does, I enn,” he snapped. "Besides,”
—airily—“mebbe I shan't git the feet
kind,^anyhow; I want the best. There’s
as much as four or five kinds, Jiwi
Blair says, an’ I cal’late ter try ’em
all.
Oh-h!” breathed Diantha, failing
back in her chair with an ecstatic
sigh. “Oh, Phineas, won’t it be
grand!” And Phineus, seeing the joy
ous light in her eyes, gazed straight
down a vista of happiness that led
to wedding bells and bliss.
Phineas was gone some time on his
Boston trip. When he returned he
looked thin and worried. He started
nervously at trivial noises, and his
eyes showed a furtive restlessness that
quickly caused remark.
«4 Why, Phineas, you don't look
well!" Diantha exdluimed when she
saw him.
Well? Oh, I’m well.”
An’ did you buy It—that autymo
bile?”
“I did. I’hineas' voice was tri
urnphant.
Diantha’s eyes sparkled.
«< Where is it?" she demanded.
[ "Cornin’—next ■ An’ did you try week.” 'em all, as you said
you would? ■
Phineas stirred; then he sighed.
“Well, I dunno,” he acknowledged.
*T hain’t done nothin’ but ride in ’em
since I went down—I know that. But
there’s such a powerful lo‘t of ’em,
Dianthy; an’ when they found out I
wanted one, they all took hold an’
showed off their best p’ints—‘demon
stratin’,’ they called it. They raced me
t up hill an’ down hill, an’ scooted me
round corners till I didn’t know where
I was. I didn’t have a jolnute ter my
self. An’ they went fast, Dianthy—
powerful fast. I ain’t real sure that
I’m breathin’ natural.”
But It must have been grand, Phin
eas I I should have loved it! M
Oh, it was, ’courseT’ asserted
Phineas, hastily.
“An’ you’ll take me ter ride, right
away? ••
GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS
It Phineas hesitated it waa for only
a moment.
‘‘Coarse,’’ he promised. “Er—there’s
a man, he’s cornin’ with It, an’ he’s
goin’ ter stay a little, Jest ter—ter
make sure everything’s all right. After
he goes I’ll come. An’ ye want tf> be
ready—I’ll show ye a thing or two!”
he finished with a swagger that was
meant to tilde the shake in his voice.
In due time the man and the auto
mobile arrived, but Dlantha did not
have her ride at once. It must have
taken some time to make sure that
.. everything was all right,” for the
man stayed many days, and while he
was there, of course, Phineas was oc
cupied with him. Colonel Smith was
unkind enough to observe that he
hoped it was taking Phineas Hopkins
long enough to learn to run the thing;
but ills remark did not reach Diantha’s
ears. She knew only thut Phineas,
together with the man and the auto
mobile, started off early every morn
ing for some unfrequented road, and
did not return until night.
There came a day, however, when
the man left town, and not 24 hours
later, Phineas, with a gleaming thing
of paint and polish, stood at Diantha’s
door.
Now, ain’t that pretty,” quavered
Dlantha excitedly. “Ain’t that awfully
pretty!” Phineas 4
beamed.
“Purty slick, I think myself," he ac
knowledged.
An’ green is so much nicer
red,” cooed DIaiitha.
Phineas quite glowed with Joy—
Colonel Smith’s car was red. Oh,
green’s the thing,” he retorted airily;
“an’ see!” he added; and forthwith he
burst into a paean of praise, in which
tires, horns, lamps, pnmps, baskets,
brakes and mud-guards were the domi
,aant notes, It almost seemed, in
deed, that he had bought the gorgeous
thing before him to look at and talk
uhout, rather than to use, so loath was
he to stop talking and set the wheels
to moving. Not until Diantha bad
twice reminded him that she was long
ing to ride in it did he help her into
the car and make ready to start.
It was not an entire success—that
start. There were several false' moves
on Phineas’ part, and Dlantha could
not repress a slight scream and a ner
vous jump at sundry unexpected puffs
and snorts and snaps from the throb
bing thing beneath her. She gave a
louder scream when Phineas, ln his
nervousness sounded the siren, and a
wall like a cry from t he spiri t world
shrieked ln her eats. ____________________________
• I Phineas, what was that?” she shiv
ered, when the voice hud moaned into
silence.
Phineas’ lips were dry, and his
hands and knees were shaking; but
his pride marched boldly to the front.
“Why, that's the siren whistle,
’course,” he chattered. “Ain’t it
great? I thought you’d like it!" And
to hear him one would suppose that
to sound the siren was always a neces
sary preliminary to starting the
wheels.
They were off at last. There was
a slight indecision, to he sure, whether
they would go backward or forward,
and there was some hesitation qs to
whether Diantha’s geranium bed or
the driveway would make the best
thoroughfare. But these little mat
ters having been settled to the ap
parent satisfaction of all concerned,
the automobile rolled down the drive
way and out on to the main highway.
Oh’ ain’t this grand!” murmured
' Diantha, drawing a long but somewhat
tremulous breath.
Phineas did not answer. Hi? lips
were tense, and his eyes were fixed on
the road ahead'. For days now he had
run the car himself, and he had been
given official assurance that he was
quite capable of handling It; yet here
he was on his first ride with Dlantha
almost making a failure of the whole
thing, at the start. Was lie to be
beaten—beaten by a senseless motor
car and Colonel Smith? At the thought
Phineas lifted his chin and put on
more power.
“<)h, my! How f-fast we’re goin’ 1"
cried Dlantha, close to his ear.
I’hineas nodded.
Who wants ter crawl?” he shouted;
and the car leaped again at the touch
of his hand.
They were out of town now, on a
wide rond that had few turns. Oeen
sionally they met a carriage or a
i wa K°n, but les8 the frightened horses and
the no frightened drivers .gave
the automobile a wide berth—which
was well; for the parallel tracks be*
hind Phineas showed tbat the ear
still had Its moments of indecision us
to the course to pursue.
The town was four miles behind
Tor them..... when time Dfanthn,......w hffi.._had
some vainly clutching at
flying ends of ‘her veil, called to
Phineas to stop.
The request took Phineas by sur
prise. For one awful moment his mind
was a blank—he had forgotten how to
stop! In frantic haste he turned and
twisted and shoved and pulled, end
ing with so sudden application of the
brakes that Dlantha nearly shot head
first out of the car as It stopped.
Why, why—Phineas!” she cried a
little sharply.
Phineas swallowed the lump in his
tliroat and steadied himself ln his
seat.
“Ye see I—I can stop her real quick
If I want to,” he explained jauntily.
“Ye can do ’most anythin’ with these
'ere things, if ye only know how, Dian
thy. Didn't we ipotne slick?”
• * Yes, indeed," stammered Dlantha.
hastily smoothing out the frown on
her face nnd summoning a smile to
her lips—not for her best black silk
gown would she have had Phineas
know that she was wishing herself
•afe at home and the automobile back
where lt came from.
“We'li go home through the holler, M
id Phineas, after she had retied her
rrell and they were ready to start.
*It’s the Ion* way round, ye know,
I ain’t goin’ ter give ye no snippy little
two-mlle run, Dianthy, like Colonel
Smith did,” he finished gleefully.'
“No, of course not,” murmured Dl
antlia, smothering a sigh as the auto
mobile started with a jerk.
An hour later, tired, frightened, a
little breathless, but valiantly declar
ing that she had had a ‘‘beautiful
time,” Dlantha was set down at her
own door.
That was but the first of many such
trips. Ever sounding in Phineas Hop
kins* ears and spurring him to fresh
endeavor were Diantha’s words: "I
could ’a’ rode on an' on furever”; and
deep in ills heart was the determina
tion that if it was automobile rides
that fche wanted, it was automobile
rides thut she would have! His small
farm on the edge of the town—once
the pride of his heart—began to look
forlorn and deserted; * for Phineas,
when not actually driving his auto
mobile, was usually to be found hang
ing over It with wrench and polishing
cloth. He bought little food and less
clothing, but always—gasoline. And
lie talked to any one who would listen
about automobiles In general and his
own In particular, learnedly dropping
In frequent references to cylinders,
speed, horse power, vibrators, carbu
retors and spark plugs.
As to Dlantha—she went to bed
every night with thankfulness that she
possessed her complement of limbs
and senses, and she rose every morn
lug with a fear that the coming night
would find some of them missing. To
Phineas and the town in general she
appeared to be devoted to this breath
less whizzing over the country roads ;
and wild horses could not have
dragged from -her the truth; that she
was longing with an overwhelming
longing for the' old days of Dolly,
dawdling, and peace.
Just whefe It all would have ended
it is difficult to say, had not the au
tomobile Itself taken a hand ln the
game—as automobiles will sometimes
—and played trumps.
It was the first day of the country
fair again, and Phineas and Dlantha
were on their way home. Straight
ahead the road ran between clumps
of green, then unwound in a white rib
bon of dust across wide fields and open
meadows.
It • Tain’t much like last year, is it,
Dianthy?" crowed Phineas, shrilly, In
her ear—then something went wrong,
— Phin e a s • kn o w it Instantly. Thc
quivering thing beneath them leaped
into new life—but a life of Its own.
It was no longer a slave, but a mas
ter. Phineas’ face grew white. Thus
far he had been able bo keep to the
road, but Just ahead there was u
sharp curve, and he knew he could not
make the turn—something was the
matter with the steering gear.
«< Look out—she’s got the bit ln her
teeth!” he shouted. II She’s bolted!
Then came a scream, a sharp report,
and a grinding crash—then silence.
From away off in thq dim distance
Phineas heard a voice.
• 1 Phineas! Phineas 1"
Something snapped, and he seemed
to be floating up, up, up, out of the
black oblivion of nothingness. He
tried to speak, but he knew that he
made no sound.
“Phineas 1 Phineas!
The voice was nearer now, so near
that lt seemed just above him. It
sounded like—With a mighty effort he
opened his eyes; then full conscious
ness came. He was on the ground,
his head in Diantha’s lap. Diantha,
bonnet crushed, neck-bow askew, and
coat torn, was bending over him, call
ing him frantically . by name. Ten
feet away the wrecked automobile,
tip-tilted against a lnrge maple tree,
completed the picture.
With a groan Phineas closed his eyes
and turned away his head.*
“She’s all stove up—an’ now you
won’t ever say yes,” he moaned. “You
wanted ter ride on an’ on furever!"
“But X will—I don’t—I didn’t mean
lt,” sobbed Dlantha incoherently. “I’d
rattier have Dolly twice over. I like
ter crawl. Oh, Phineas, I hate that
thing—I’ve always hated it! I’ll say
yes next week—tomorrow—today if
you’ll only open your eyos and tell me
you ain’t a-dyin’l n
I’hineas was not dying, and he proved
it promptly and effectually, even to
the doubting Dlantha’s blushing con
tent And there their rescuers found
them a long half-hour luter—a blissful
old man and a happy old woman sit
tin i? ba nd in hand by, the wrecked au
tomobile.
“I ral’lated somebody’d be along
pl ’ ea ^ 1 hl “ ea8 ’ riaing
Afit
at don t go, so we couldn’t git help;
^ buf we ‘du’t minded the wait—not
a m ite!”
Women Patients Lee* Fussy.
Landladies may find men less trou
ble than women as roomers, hut when
they’re sick it’s an entirely different
question. At least, so think* the
towsle-headed proletarian who keeps
the floors clean in a wing of one of
the hospitals, and whose relaxation lt
Is to exchange gossip with any pa
tients well enough to stand the strain.
“I'd rather clean up for a whole
floor of women than for one ward of
mm," he observed. “Men are an aw
ful nuisance when they’re sick, fuke
lt from me. They scatter cigarette
nshes on the floor, and they have news
papers and magazines all over the
place. Why; a person could clean np
every half hour ln that men's ward
upstairs and still they’d have It
mussed up.
“Now, the women never give any
trouble at all. They’re Just us neat
even when they're sick. The best
thing I ever dW was to get trans
ferred down here from the wen’s
ward.”—New York Sun
♦ ♦
< K
DALTONS AND
THEIR. LEGACY
The Story of What Happened When the City Called
and the Country Called Back Again
By 4
ELEANOR PORTER
Author of “ Pollyanna,” “ Just David,” Etc.
CepyrUrlit by Eleanor H, Porter. I
fpHE x and legacy dollars, amounted kind com ting to ten at thoua- it did
from a little known, sea red y remem
hered relative ft seemed even more
unreal than the man who had be
queathed It.
u Now we can leave the farm, ** ex
ulted Mrs. Dalton.
Why, Sarah, do—do you think that
is quite—wiser’ asked her husband,
"Wise? Of course it Isl” she re
turned decidedly. “Why, Caleb, don’t
you know?—we’ve always wanted to
go to the city; and Cousin John said
he’d give you a place in his store any
time, so you’ll earn something to start
with right away. We never dared to
before, you know, for you wa’n’t sure
how- you’d do; but now we’ve got all
this money we shan’t have to worry
a mite. Oh, isn’t lt Just splendid,
Caleb?
r ?cs ; but—” he hesltatefl.
But there isn’t* any ‘but,’ Caleb,”
laughed Sarah, and turned to a boy
of twelve and a girl of fourteen who
entered the room at that moment.
“We’ve got it all settled, children.
We’re going to Boston, sure, this fall.”
■ Oh, mother!”—Ethel's hands came
together in ecstasy, while Fred
whooped ln glee.
"There, Caleb, I told you how lt
would be,” smiled Mrs. Dalton as the
door banged behind Fred; then,
anxiously: “You wouldn’t want to spoil
lt all, now, would you?”
“N-no; but—no, no, of course not,”
murmured Caleb.
This was ln August. By the middle
of September such household goods
as the Daltons had planned to take
with them were packed, burlapped,
crated and labeled. It had been Mrs.
Dalton’s idea to sell the rest of the
furniture on the farm at auction, but
in X
>
i
T f
la
RS a
£0*
’
I ^ /’V*'
‘V/J
“Oh Come, Now, That Ain’t Going to
Do, You Know."
just here she encountered an unex
pected but stubborn resistance from
her husband. Consequently, the re
mainder of the goods were stored in
the attic, and the farm was rented
until the first of May.
* • Cousin John” in Boston had re
ceived the news of their intended com
ing with cordial interest, and had al
ready procured for them a six-room
apartment in Roxbury; and it was in
his thriving market and grocery store
on Warren avenue that Caleb was to
have a position as clerk.
Some weeks later when Mrs. Dalton
snw h<>r new home ghp dldn . t knott .
whether to laugh or to oan’i cry
,.fo hy> CaleU . I-I breathe
the rooms are so small!” she gasped.
^B U ifl A ' s e t tl ed W a a wonderful ex. "
.
At last the tiny "parlor” with Its
mirror-adorned mantel und showy gas
fixtures—the pride of Surah's heart-*
was In order; and, after that, Sarah
made sure each day that three o’clock
found her dressed in her best and Hit
ting in solemn state In that same par
lor waiting for the calls that were
! surely now long overdue.
Days passed, and her patience was
unrewarded save for a sharp ring
from a sewing-machine agent, and an
other from a book canvasser.
Sarah could not understand It. Sure
ly, her neighbors in the block must
know of her arrival even if those in
her immediate vicinity on the street
did not. Meeting a tall, slender wom
an, whom she had already seen three
times, she spoke..
“How—how d'ye do?” she began
timidly.
Tha tall woman started, threw n
hurried glance around her, then came
to the conclusion that the Habitation
was meant for herself.
• • Hood-morning,” she returned, then
hurried along through the hall.
Sarah stood looking after her with
dazed eyes.
*:•«* p,„,
“Why, how funny 1” she murmured.
Three days later the two ladlm
again met at the outer door.
“Oh, how d’ye do? Nice day, stn*
it?” began Sarah, hurriedly. “You—
yon live here, don't yon? •*
Why—yes," said the woman, smil
ing a little.
“I do, too—on the top floor.
“I—I’m all settled, now,” announced
Sarah, stumbling over the words a lit
tie.
“Is that so?" returned the woman
politely, but without enthusiasm.
Sarah nodded.
“Yes, all ready for callers. I—I
hope you’ll come soon," she finished
with sudden courage.
“Thank you; you are very kind,"
murmured the woman, os she smiled
and turned away.
The tall woman did not call, and
Sarah never asked her again. A fear
words from Cousin John’s wife at
about this time opened Sarah's eyes,
and taught her not to expect to be
come acquainted with her neighbors.
Sarah was not the only member of
the family who had found trials by
the way. Ethel and Fred had entered
school, and at first they came home
each afternoon with Woeful faces.
New methods of study, recitation,
discipline, and even of recreation puz
zled and frightened them.
To Caleb, the city was a thing of
noise, hurry and more people than he
had thought existed. Early and late
he worked In the store.
“I don't like it," he would say some
times to his wife; "X don’t Hka it,
Sarah.
December, January, February aad
March passed ; and the first of April
brought a letter from the lessee of the
farm asking lf he was to have the
place through the summer.
“Of course he ran have it," declared
Sarah. “Just as If we wanted it
again!”
• • Yes, yes, of course," murmured
Caleb. “1—I’ll write later on.
It was an early, and a wonderfully
beautiful spring that year.
Sarah grew restless indoors.
Downstairs, on each side of the big
front door was a square-yard patch
of puny, straggling grass; and it was
these two bits of possibilities that put
a happy thought into Sarah’s head.
She bought a trowel and some flower
seeds and set resolutely to work. She
had dug the trowel into the earth four
times, and wag delightedly sniffing
the odor from the moist earth when
the janitor appeared.
Did ye lose something, ma’am?”
he asked suspiciously.
Dose something?” laughed the
woman. “Of course not! I’ve found
something, William. I’ve found a
flower bed. I’m going to have the
prettiest one ever was.
**’T won’t do, ma’am,—’t won’t, real
ly. now. I’m sorry, but the boss won’t
stand It.”
It was that night that Caleb brought
out the paper and pen to write the let
ter which would lease the farm for
another six months. Twice he dipped
his pen In the ink, and paused with
word written. Finally he spoke. -
no
"V—I’u^ going to give him some
hints, Sarah. He won’t know how
to run some of the things, I'm sure,
lf he should plant the meadow lot to
potatoes, now, it—— 1
“And, Caleb,” cut Irt Sara% "be
sure and send word to ids wife about
the roses; lf she don't spray ’em real
early, the bugs and worms will get an
awful start.
There was another long silence,
broken this time by the children’s
entrance.
“Mother,” begun Fred discontented
ly, “don’t they ever go Ashing down
here, or swimming, or anything?”
Sarah sprang to her feet with a nerv
ous little laugh.
“Caleb, we—we might go up home
Just for—for a visit,” she said.
“Hurrahi—let’s!"■ crowed Fred, and
Ethel clapped her hands.
It was a jubilant four that lef t the
NO'rth' Vfatlon a few days later, and
It was a still more Jubilant four that
arrived ln the village at the foot of
the green hills,
■ • Oh, don’t lt look splendid and
roomy!” cried Sarah, as they reached
the turn where they could see the
farm-house, "Aud don’t the air smell
good!”
Just at dusk on the third day Caleb
found bis wife in the old summer
house. Wrapped in shawls, she was
fastening vines to the trellis.
“Well, Sarah, I—I s’pose I’d better
settle up with West, now. I haln’t
yet, you know. I
Surah nodded, without speaking.
Tilings look first-rate, now. but—
I’ve got my doubts of West,
wish I could handle them myself.”
Sarah threw a quick glance at his
averted face.
"Well— why—don’t yon?” she al
most whispered.
“Sarah, would you?—would you
come hack? Do you mean It?” cried
Culeb, w*»h a swift Joy In his eye* ’
So rail burst Into tears, ami threw
herself into her husband's arms. “Oh,
Caleb, I—just would! I—I’ve wanted
to ever so long, but—I Juat wouldn't
own up.”