 Chapter 9, Part 1 of Laddie. All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them. Our big girls and boys always made a dreadful fuss and said we would catch every disease you could mention, but mother and father were set about it, just like the big rocks in the hills. They said they themselves once had been at the mercy of the people, and they knew how it felt. Mother said when they were coming here in a wagon, and she had ridden until she had to walk to rest her feet, and held a big baby until her arms became so tired she drove while father took it, and when at last they saw a house and stopped. She said if the woman hadn't invited her in and let her cook on the stove, given her milk and eggs, and furnished her a bed to sleep in once in a while, she couldn't have reached here at all, and she never had been refused once. Then she always quoted, all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them. Father said there were men who made a business of splitting hairs, and of finding different meanings in almost everything in the Bible. I would like to have seen anyone split hairs about that, or it made to mean something else. Of all the things in the Bible that you had to do because it said to, whether you liked it or not, that was the one you struck oftness in life, and it took the hardest pole to obey. It was just the hatefulest text of any, and made you squirm most. There was no possible way to get around it. It meant that if you liked a splinter new slate, and a sharp pencil all covered with gold paper, to make pictures and write your lessons. When Clarissa Polk sat next to you and sang so low the teacher couldn't hear it until she put herself to sleep on it, I wished I had a slate, I wished I had a slate, I wished I had a slate, oh I wished I had a slate. It meant that you just had to wash up yours, and stop making pictures yourself, and pass it over. You even had to smile when you offered it, if you did it right. And I seldom got through it, as the Lord would. For anyone who loaned Clarissa a slate, knew that it would come back with greasy, sweaty finger marks on it, you almost had to dig a hole to wash off, and your pencil would be wet. And if there were the least flaw of crystal in the pencil, she found it, and bore down so hard that what she wrote never would come off. The Lord always seemed bigger and more majestic to me, than at any other time. When I remembered that he could have known all that, and yet smiled as he loaned Clarissa his slate. And that old Bible thing meant, too, that if you would like it if you were travelling a long way, say to California to hunt gold, or even just to Indiana, to find a farm fit to live on. It meant that if you were tired, hungry, and sore, and would want to be taken in, and fed and rested, you had to let in other people when they reached your home. Father and mother had been through it themselves, and they must have been tired as could be, before they reached Sarah Hood's, and she took them in, and rested and fed them, even when they were only a short way from the top of the little hill, where next morning they looked down and stopped the wagon, until they chose the place to build their house. Sarah Hood came along, and helped mother all day, so by night she was settled in the old cabin that was on the land, and ready to go to work making money to build a new one, and then a big house, and fix the farm all beautiful like it was then. They knew so well how it felt, that they kept one bed in the boys' room, and any man who came at dusk got his supper to sleep there, and his breakfast, and there never was anything to pay. The girls always scolded dreadfully about the extra washing, but mother said she slept on sheets when she came out, and someone washed them. One time Sally said, Mother, have you ever figured out how many hundreds sheets you've washed since to pay for that? Mother said, No, but I just hope it will make a stack high enough for me to climb from into heaven. Sally said, The talk at the church always led me to think that you flew to heaven. Mother answered, So I get there, I don't mind if I creep. Then Sally knew it was time to stop. We always knew, and we stopped too. We had heard that all things quotation, until the first two words were as much as Mother ever needed repeat of it any more, and we had cooked, washed for, and waited on people travelling, until Leon got so when he saw anyone coming. Of course we knew all the neighbours, and their horses and wagons and carriages. He always said, Here comes another even so. He said we had done even so to people, until it was about our share. But Mother said our share was going to last until the Lord said, Well done, good and faithful servant, and took us home. She had much more about the stranger at the gate, and entertaining angels unawares. Why, she knew every single thing in the Bible that meant it was her duty to feed and give a bed to anyone, no matter how dirty or miserable looking he was. So when Leon came in one evening at dusk and said, There's another even so coming down the little hill. All of us knew that we'd have company for the night, and we had. I didn't like that man, but some of the others seemed to find him amusing. Maybe it was because I had nothing to do but sit and watch him, and so I saw more of him than the ones who came and went all the time. As long as there was anyone in the room he complained dreadfully about his sore foot, and then cheered up and talked, and he could tell interesting things. He was young, but he must have been most everywhere and seen everything. He was very brave and could stand off three men who were going to take from him the money he was carrying to buy a piece of land in Illinois. The minute the grown folks left the room to milk, do the night feeding, and begin supper, he twisted in his chair and looked at every door, and went and stood at the back dining room window, where he could see the barn and what was out there. And coming back he took a peep into father's and mother's room, and although he limped dreadfully when he came, he walked like anyone when he went over and picked up father's gun and looked to see if it were loaded, and seemed mighty glad when he found it wasn't. Father said he could load in a flash when it was necessary, but he was dubious about a loaded gun in a house full of children. Not one of us ever touched it, until the boys were big enough to have permission, like Laddie and Leon had. He said a gun was such a great moral persuader that the sight of one was mostly all that was needed, and nobody could tell by looking at it whether it was loaded or not. This man could, for he examined the lock, and smiled in a pleased way over it, and he never limped a step going back to his chair. He kept on complaining until father told him before bedtime that he had better rest a day or two, and mother said that would be a good idea. He talked so much we couldn't do our lessons or spell very well, but it was Friday, and we'd have another chance Saturday, so it didn't make so much difference. Father said the traveller must be tired and sleepy, and Leon should take a light and show him to bed. He stayed so long, father went to the foot of the stairway, and asked him why he didn't come down, and he said he was in bed too. The next morning he was sleepy at breakfast, and Ladi said it was no wonder, because Leon and the traveller were talking when he went upstairs. The man turned to father and said, That's a mighty smart boy, Mr. Stanton. Father frowned and said, Praise to the face is open disgrace. I hope he will be smart enough not to disgrace us anyway. The traveller said he was sure he would be, and we could see that he had taken a liking to Leon, for he went with him to the barn to help do the morning feeding. They stayed so long, mother sent me to call them, and when I got there, the man was telling Leon how foolish it was for boys to live on a farm, how they never would amount to anything unless they went to cities, and about all the fun there was there, and how nice it was to travel, even along the roads, because everyone fed you and gave you a good bed. He forgot that walking had made his foot lame, and I couldn't see, to save me, why he was going to spend his money to buy a farm, if he thought a town the only place where it was fit to live. He stayed all Saturday, and father said Sunday was no suitable time to start on a journey again, and the man's foot was bad when father was around, so it would be better to wait until Monday. The traveller tagged Leon and told him what a fine fellow he was, how smart he was, and to prove it, Leon boasted about everything he knew, and showed the man all over the farm. I even saw them pass the station in the orchard, and heard Leon brag how father had been an agent for the Governor, but of course he didn't really show him the place, and probably it would have made no difference if he had, for all the money must have been spent on Saley's wedding. Of course father might have put some there he had got since, or that money might never have been his at all, but it seemed as if it would be, because it was on his land. Sunday evening all of us attended church, but the traveller was too tired, so when Leon said he'd stay with him, father thought it was all right. I could see no one wanted to leave the man alone in the house. He said they'd go to bed early, and we came in quite late. The lamp was turned low, the door unlocked, and everything in place. Laddie went to bed without a candle, and said he'd undress, and slip in easy so as not to waken them. In the morning when he got up, the traveller's bed hadn't been slept in, and neither had Leon's. The gun was gone, and father stared at mother, and mother stared at Laddie, and he turned, and ran straight toward the station, and in a minute he was back, whiter than a plate. He just said, all gone. Father and mother both sat down suddenly and hard. Then Laddie ran to the barn, and came back, and said none of the horses had been taken. Soon they went into the parlor, and shut the door, and when they came out, father staggered, and mother looked exactly like Sebethany. Laddie ran to the barn, saddled floss, and rode away. Father wanted to ring an alarm on the dinner bell, like he had a call arranged to get all the neighbours there quickly if we had sickness or trouble, and mother said, Paul, you shall not, he's so young, we've got to keep this as long as we can, and maybe the Lord will help us find him, and we can give him another chance. Father started to say something, and mother held up her hand, and just said, Paul, and he sank back in the chair, and kept still. Mother always had spoken of him as the head of the family, and here he wasn't at all, he minded her quickly as I would. When Miss Amelia came downstairs, they let her start to school, and never told her a word, but mother said May and I were not to go. So I slipped out, and ran through the orchard to look at the station, and sure enough the stone was rolled back, the door open, and the can lying on the floor. I slid down, and picked it up, and there was one sheet of paper money left in it stuck to the sides. It was all plain as a pike staff. Leon must have thought the money had been spent, and showed the traveller the station, just to brag, and he guessed there might be something there, and had gone while we were at church and taken it. He had all night the start of us, and he might have a horse waiting somewhere, and be almost to Illinois by this time, and if the money belonged to Father, there would be no Christmas, and if it happened to be the money the county gave him to pay the men who worked the roads every fall, and Miss Amelia, or collections from the church, he'd have to pay it back, even if it put him in debt. And if he died they might take the land, like he said, and where on earth was Leon? Knew what he'd done in hiding, I bet. He needed the thrashing he would get that time, and I started out to hunt him, and have it over with, so Mother wouldn't be uneasy about him yet. And then I remembered that he had said Leon hadn't been in bed all night. He was gone too. Maybe he wanted to try life in a city, where the traveller had said everything was so grand. But he must have known that he'd kill his mother if he went. And while he didn't kiss her so often, and talk so much as some of us, I never could see that he didn't run quite as fast to get her a chair, or save her a step. He was so slim and light, he could race for the doctor faster than Lady or Father, either one. Of course he loved his mother, just as all of us did. He never, never could go away, and not let her know about it. If he had gone, that watchful-eyed man, who was lame only part of the time, had taken the gun and made him go. I thought I might as well save the money he'd overlooked, so I gripped it tight in my hand, and put it in my apron pocket, the same as I had led his note to the princess, and started to the barn on the chance that Leon might be hiding. I knew precious well I would if I were in his place. So I hunted the granaries, the hay-mow, the stalls. Then I stood on the threshing floor, and cried, Leon, if you're hiding, come quick. Mother will be sick with worrying, and Father will be so glad to see you. He won't do anything much. Do please hurry. Then I listened, and all I could hear was a rat gnawing at a corner of the granary under the hay. Might as well have saved its teeth. It would strike a strip of tin when it got through. But of course it couldn't know that. Then I went to every hole around the haystack where the cattle had eaten. None were deep yet, like they would be later in the season. And all the way I begged of Leon to come out. Once a rooster screamed, flew in my face, and scared me good. But no, Leon. So I tried the corn crib, the implement shed, and the woodhouse, climbing the ladder with the money still gripped in one hand. Then I slipped in the front door, up the stairs, and searched the garret, even a way back where I didn't like to very well. At last I went to the dining-room, and I don't think either Father or Mother had moved, while Sebethany turned to stone, looked good compared with them. Seemed as if it would have been better if they'd cried or scolded, or anything but just sit there as they did, when you could see by their moving once in a while that they were alive. In the kitchen Candice and May finished the morning work, and both of them cried steadily. I slipped to May. Whose money was it? I whispered. Fathers, or the Counties, or the Churches? All three, said May. The traveller took it? How would he find it? None of us knew there was such a place before. Letty seemed to know. Oh, Letty! Father trusts him about everything. They don't think he told. Of course not, silly. It's Leon who is gone. Leon may have told about the station, I cried. He didn't touch the money. He never touched it. Then I went straight to Father. Keeping a secret was one thing. Seeing the only Father you had look like that was another. I held out the money. There's one piece old even so didn't get any way, I said, found it on the floor of the station, where it was stuck to the can. And I thought Leon must be hiding, for fear he'd be whipped for telling. But I've hunted where we usually hide, and promised him everything under the sun if he'd come out. But he didn't, so I guess that traveller man must have used the gun to make him go along. Father sat and stared at me. He never offered to touch the money, not even when I held it against his hand. So I saw that money wasn't the trouble. Else he'd have looked quick enough to see how much I had. They were thinking about Leon being gone. At least Father was. Mother called me to her and asked. You knew about the station? I nodded. When? On the way back from taking Amanda Deem her ducks this summer. Leon was with you? He found it. What were you doing? Sitting on the fence eating apples, we were wondering why that ravine place wasn't cleaned up when everywhere else was. And then Leon said there might be a reason. He told about having seen a black man, and that he was hidden someplace, and we hunted there and found it. We rolled back the stone and opened the door, and Leon went in, and both of us saw a can full of money. Go on. We didn't touch it, mother. Truly we didn't. Leon said we'd found something not intended for children, and we'd be whipped sick if we ever went near or told. And we never did, not even once, unless Leon wanted to boast to the traveler man. But if he showed him the place, he thought sure the money had all been spent on the wedding and sending Shelley away. Father's arms shot out, and his head pitched on the table. Mother got up and began to walk the floor, and never went near or even touched him. I couldn't bear it. I went and pulled his arm and put the bill under his hand. Leon didn't take your money. He didn't. He didn't. I just know he didn't. He does tricks because they are so funny, or he thinks they'll be. But he doesn't steal. He doesn't touch a single thing that is not his. Only melons or chicken out of the skillet, or bread from the cellar. But not money and things. I take gizzards and bread myself, but I don't steal, and Leon or none of us do. Oh, Father, we don't. Not one of us do. Don't you remember about Thou Shalt Not and the Crusaders? Leon's the best fighter of any of us. I'm not sure that he couldn't even whip Lattie if he got mad enough. Maybe he can't whip the traveler if he has the gun. But Father, Leon simply couldn't take the money. Lattie will stay home and work, and all of us. We can help get it back. We can sell a lot of things. Lattie will sell floss before he'll see you suffer so. And all of us will give up Christmas. And we'll work. We'll work as hard as ever we can. And maybe you could spare the little piece Joe Risto wants to build his cabin on. We can manage about the money, Father. Indeed we can. But you don't dare think Leon took it. He never did. Why, he's yours. Yours and Mother's. Father lifted his head and reached out his arms. You blessing, he said. You blessing from the Lord. Then he gave me a cold, stiff kiss on the forehead, went to Mother, took her arm, and said, Come, Mommy, let's go and tell the Lord about it. And then we'll try to make some plan. Perhaps Lattie will be back with word soon. But he almost had to carry her. Then we could hear him praying. And he was so anxious. And he made it so earnest. It sounded exactly like the Lord was in our room, and Father was talking right to his face. I tried to think. And this is what I thought. As Father left the room, he looked exactly as I had seen Mr. Pryor more than once. And my mother had both hands gripped over her heart, and she said we must not let anyone know. Now, if something could happen to us to make my Father look like the Princesses, and my mother hold her heart with both hands, and if no one were to know about it like they had said, how were we any different from Pryor's? We might be if the Lord's anointed, but we could get into the same kind of trouble the Infidels could, and have secrets ourselves. Or at least it seemed as if it might be very nearly the same, when it made Father and Mother look and act the way they did. I wondered if we'd have to leave our lovely, lovely home, cross a sea, and be strangers in a strange land, as Lattie said, and if people would talk about us, and make us feel that being a stranger was the loneliest, hardest thing in all the world. Well, if mysteries are like this, and we have to live with one days and years, the Lord have mercy on us. Then I saw the money lying on the table, so I took it, and put it in the Bible. Then I went out, and climbed the Caltopotry to watch for Lattie. Soon I saw a funny thing, such as I never before had seen. Coming across the fields, straight toward our house, sailing over the fences like a bird, came the Princess on one of her horses. Its leg stretched out so far its body almost touched the ground, and it lifted up and swept over the rails. She took our meadow fence lengthwise, and at the hitching-rack she threw the bridle over the post, dismounted, and then I saw she had been riding astride like a man. I ran before her and opened the sitting-room door, but no one was there, so I went on to the dining-room. Father had come in, and Mother was sitting in her chair. Both of them looked at the Princess, and never said a word. She stopped inside the dining-room door, and spoke breathlessly, as if she, as well as the horse, had raced. I hope I'm not intruding, she said, but a man north of us told our Thomas in the village that robbers had taken quite a large sum of hidden money you held for the county and the church, and of your own, and your gun, and got away while you were at church last night. Is it true? Practically, said my father. Then my mother motioned toward a chair. You were kind to come, she said. Won't you be seated? The Princess stepped to the chair, but she gripped the back in both hands and stood straight, breathing fast, her eyes shining with excitement, her lips and cheeks red. So lovely, you just had to look and look. No, she said, I'll tell you why I came, and then if there is nothing I can do here, and no errand I can ride for you, I'll go. Mother has heart trouble, the worst in all the world, the kind no doctor can ever hope to cure. And sometimes, mostly at night, she is driven to have outside air. Last night she was unusually ill, and I heard her leave the house, after I'd gone to my room. I watched from my window, and saw her take a seat on a bench under the nearest tree. I was moving around, and often I looked to see if she were still there. Then the dogs began to rave, and I hurried down. They used to run free, but lately, on account of her going out, father has been forced to tie them at night. They were straining at their chains and barking dreadfully. I met her at the door, but she would only say someone passed and gave her a fright. When Thomas came in and told what he had heard, she said instantly that she had seen the man. She said he was about the size of Thomas, that he came from your direction, that he ran when our dogs barked, but he kept beside the fences, and climbed over where there were trees. He crossed our barnyard, and went toward the northwest. Mother saw him distinctly as he reached the road, and she said he was not a large man. He stooped when he ran, and she thought he moved like a slinking city thief. She is sure he's the man who took your money. She says he acted exactly as if he were trying to escape pursuit, but I was to be sure to tell you that he didn't carry a gun. If your gun is gone, there must have been two, and the other man took that, and went a different way. Did two men stop here? No, said Father, only one. The Princess looked at him thoughtfully. Do you think, Mr. Stanton, she said, that the man who took the money would burden himself with a gun, isn't a rifle heavy for one in flight to carry? It is, said Father, your mother saw nothing of two men? Only one, and she knows he didn't carry a gun. Except the man you took in. No stranger has been noticed around here lately. No one. We are quite careful. Even the gun was not loaded as it stood. Whoever took it carried the ammunition also, but he couldn't fire until he loaded. Father turned to the corner where the gun always stood, and then he stooped, and picked up two little white squares from the floor. They were bits of unbleached muslin in which he wrapped the bullets he made. The rifle was loaded before starting, and in a hurry, he said, as he held up the squares of muslin. Then he scratched a match, bent, and ran it back and forth over the floor, and at one place there was a flash, and the flame went around in funny little fizzes, as it caught a grain of powder here and there. You see, the measure was overrun. Wouldn't the man naturally think the gun was loaded and take it as it stood? That would be the reasonable conclusion, said Father. But he looked, I cried, that first night when you and the boys went to the barn, and the girls were getting supper, he looked at the gun, and he liked it when he saw it wasn't loaded. He smiled, and he didn't limp a mite when I was the only one in the room. He and Leanne knew it wasn't loaded, and I guess he didn't load it, for he liked having it empty so well. Um, said Father, what it would save in this world if a child only knew when to talk and when to keep still. Little sister, the next time you see a stranger examine my gun when I'm not in the room. Suppose you take Father out alone, and whisper to him about it. Yes, sir, I said. CHAPTER IX PART II EVEN SO The way I wished I had told that at the right time made me dizzy. But then there were several good switchings I'd had for telling things, besides what Sally did to me about her and Peter. I would have enjoyed knowing how one could be sure. Hereafter it will be all right about the gun anyway. Could I take my horse and carry a message anywhere for you? Are both your sons riding to tell the neighbors? Father hesitated, but it seemed as if he stopped to think. So I just told her. Ladi is riding. Leanne didn't take a horse. Father said there was nothing she could do, so she took my hand, and we started for the gate. I do hope they will find him, and get back the money, and give him what he deserves, she cried. Yes, Father and Mother are praying that they'll find him, I said. It doesn't seem to make the least difference to them about the money. Father didn't even look at the big paper piece I found where it was hidden, but they are anxious about the man. Mother says he is so young, we must find him, and keep this a secret, and give him another chance. You won't tell, will you? The Princess stood still on her walk, and then, of all things, if she didn't begin to go so Bethany-like. The colour left her cheeks and lips, and she shivered and shook, and never said one word. I caught her arm. Say, what ails you? I cried. You haven't gone and got heart trouble, too, have you? She stood there trembling, and then, wheeling suddenly, ran back into the house, and went to my mother. On her knees the Princess buried her face in mother's breast, and said, Oh, Mrs. Stanton, oh, if I only could help you. She began to cry as if something inside her had broken, and she'd shake to pieces. Mother stared above her head at father, with her eyebrows raised high, and he waved his hand toward me. Mother turned to me, but already she had put her arms around the Princess, and was trying to hold her together. What did you tell her that made her come back? She asked, stern-like. You forgot to explain that the man was so young, and you wanted to keep it a secret and give him another chance, I said. I just asked her not to tell. Well, mother looked at father, and all the color went from her face, and she began to shake. He stared at her, then he opened her door, and lifted the Princess with one arm, and mother with the other, and helped them into mother's room, stepped back, and closed the door. After a while it opened, and they came out together, with both mother's arms around the Princess, and she had cried until she staggered. Mother lifted her face and kissed her, when they reached the door and said, Tell your mother I understand enough to sympathize. Carry her my love. I do wish she would give herself the comfort of asking God to help her. She does. Oh, I'm sure she does, said the Princess. It's father who has lost all judgment and reason. Father went with her to the gate, and this time she needed help to mount her horse, and she left it to choose its way, and go where it pleased on the road. When father came in, he looked at mother, and she said, I haven't the details, but she understands too well. The prior mystery isn't much of a mystery anymore. God help their poor souls and save us from suffering like that. She said so little, and meant so much. I couldn't figure out exactly what she did mean, but father seemed to understand. I've often wondered, he said, but he didn't say what he wondered, and he hurried to the barn, and saddled our best horse, and came in, and began getting ready to ride, and we knew he would go north-west. I went back to the cultopetry, and wondered myself, but it was too much for me to straighten out. Just why my mother wanting to give the traveler man another chance would make the Princess feel like that. If she had known my mother as I did, she'd have known that she always wanted to give every man a second chance, no matter whether he was young or old. Then I saw Laddie coming down the big hill beside the church, but he was riding so fast I thought he wouldn't want to bother with me, so I slid from the tree and ran to tell mother. She went to the door and watched as he rode up, but you could see by his face he had not heard of them. Nothing, but I have some men out. I am going east now, he said. I wish, father, you would rub floss down, blanket her, and if you can, walk her slowly an hour while she cools off. I am afraid I've ruined her. How much had you there? I haven't stopped a figure, said father. I think I'd better take the horse I have ready and go on one of the north-west roads. The prior girl was here a few moments ago, and her mother saw a man cross their place about the right time last evening. He ran and acted suspiciously when the dogs barked, but he was alone and he didn't have a gun. Was she sure? Positive. Then it couldn't have been our man, but I'll ride in that direction and start a search. They would keep to the woods, I think. You'd better stay with mother. I'll ask Jacob Hood to take your place. So Laddie rode away again without even going into the house, and mother said to father, what can he be saying to people that the neighbors don't come? Father answered, I don't know, but if anyone can save the situation, Laddie will. Mother went to bed, while father sat beside her, reading a loud little scraps from the Bible, and they took turns praying. From the way they talked to the Lord, you could plainly see that they were reminding him of all the promises he had made to take care of people, comfort those in trouble, and heal the brokenhearted. One thing was so curious, I asked May if she noticed, and she had. When they had made such a fuss about money, only a short while before, and worked so hard to get our share together, and when they would have to pay back all that belonged to the county and church, neither of them ever even mentioned money then. Every minute I expected father to ask where I'd put the piece I found, and when he opened right at it in the Bible, he turned on past, exactly as if it were an obituary, or a piece of Sally's wedding dress, or a baby hair from some of our heads. He went on hunting places where the Lord said sure and strong that he'd help people who loved him. When either of them prayed, they asked the Lord to help those near them who were in trouble, as often and earnestly as they begged him to help them. There were no people near us who were in trouble that we knew of, accepting priors. Hard as father and mother worked, you'd have thought the Lord wouldn't have minded if they asked only once to get the money back, or if they forgot the neighbors, but they did neither one. May said because they were big like that was why all of us loved them so. I would almost freeze in the Coltapa, but as I could see far in all directions there, I went back and watched the roads, and when I remembered what Lattie had said, I kept an eye on the fields too. At almost dusk, and frozen so stiff, I could scarcely hang onto the limb. I heard the bulldogs at priors begin to rave. They kept on steadily, and I thought gypsies must be passing. Then from the woods came a queer party that started across the cornfield toward the big meadow in front of the house, and I thought they were hunters. I stood in the tree and watched until they climbed the meadow fence, and by that time I could see plainly. The traveler man got over first, then Leon and the dogs, and then Mr. Pryor handed Leon the gun, leaped over, and took it. I looked again, and then fell from the tree, and almost bursted. As soon as I could get up and breathe, I ran to the front door, screaming, Father, Father, come open the big gate. Leon's got him, but he's so tired Mr. Pryor is carrying the gun and helping him walk. Just like one all of us ran, Father crossed the road and opened the gate. The traveler man wouldn't look up, he just slouched along. But Leon's chin was up in his head high, he was scratched, torn, and dirty, he was wheezing every breath most from his knees, and Mr. Pryor half carried him and the gun. When they met us, Leon reached in his trousers pocket, and drew out a big roll of money that he held toward Father. My fault, he gasped, but I got it back for you. Then he fell over, and Father caught him in his arms, and carried him into the house, and laid him on the couch in the dining-room. Mr. Pryor got down, and gathered up the money from the road. He followed into the house, and set the gun in a corner. Don't be frightened, he said to Mother. The boy has walked all night and all day, with no sleep or food, and the gun was a heavy load for him. I gathered from what he said, when the dogs let us know they were coming, that this hound took your money. Your dog barked and awakened the boy, and he loaded the gun and followed. The fellow had a good start, and he didn't get him until near daybreak. It's been a stiff pull for the youngster, and he seems to feel it was his fault that this cowardly cur you sheltered learned where you kept your money. If that is true, I hope you won't be hard on him. Father was unfastening Leon's neckband, Mother was rubbing his hands, Candice was taking off his shoes, and May with spilling water Father had called for, all over the carpet, she shook so. When Leon drew a deep breath, and his head rolled on the pillow, Father looked at Mr. Pryor. I don't think he heard all of it, but he caught the last words. Hard on him, hard on him, he said, the tears rolling down his cheeks. This my son, who was lost, is found. Oh! shouted Mr. Pryor, slamming the money on the table. Poor drivel to fit the circumstances. If I stood in your boots, sir, I would rise up in the mighty strength of my pride, and pull out foundation stones, until I shook the nation. I never envied mortal man, as I envy you today. Candice cried out, oh look, his poor feet, they are blistered and bleeding. Mother moved down a little, gathered them in her arms, and began kissing them. Father wet Leon's lips and a rose. He held out his hand, and Mr. Pryor took it. I will pray God, he said, that it may happen, even so to you. Leon opened his eyes, and caught only the last words. You had better look out for the even-sows, father, he said. And father had to laugh, but Mr. Pryor went out, and slammed the door, until I looked to see if it had cracked from top to bottom. But we didn't care if it had, we were so happy over having Leon back. I went, and picked up the money, and carried it to father to put away, and that time he took it. But even then, he didn't stop to see if he had all of it. You see, I said, I told you. You did indeed, said father, and you almost saved our reason. There are times, when things we have come to feel, we can't live without, so press us, that money seems of the greatest importance. This is our lesson. Hereafter, I and all my family, who have been through this, will know that money is not even worth thinking about, when the life and honor of one you love hangs in the balance. When he can understand, your brother shall know of the wondrous faith his little sister had in him. Maybe he won't like what you and mother thought. Maybe we better not tell him. I can keep secrets real well. I have several big ones I've never told, and I didn't say a word about the station, when Leon said I shouldn't. After this, there will be no money kept on the place, said father. It's saving time at too great cost. All we have goes into the bank, and some of us will cheerfully ride for what we want, when we need it. As for not telling Leon, that is as your mother decides. For myself, I believe I'd feel better to make a clean breast of it. Mother heard, for she sobbed as she bathed Leon's feet, and when his eyes came open, so they'd stay a little while, he kept looking at her so funny, between sips of hot milk. Don't cry, mommy, he said. I'm all right. Sorry, such a rumpus. Let him fool me. Be smart as the next fellow after this. Know how glad you are to get the money. Mother sat back on her heels, and roared as I do, when I step in a bumblebee's nest, and they get me. Leon was growing better every minute, and he stared at her, and then his dealish, funny old grin, began to twist his lips, and he cried. Oh, golly! You thought I helped take it, and went with him, didn't you? Oh, my son, my son, wailed mother, until she made me think of Absalom under the oak. Well, I be ding-busted, said Leon, sort of slow and wondering like, and father never opened his head to tell him that was no way to talk. Mother cried more than ever, and between sips she tried to explain that I heard what the traveler man had said about how bad it was to live in the country, and how Leon was now at an age where she'd known boys to get wrong ideas, and how things looked, and in the middle of it he raised on his elbow, and took her in his arms, and said, Well, of all the geese, and I suppose father was in it, too, but since it's the first time, and since it is you, go to bed now, and let me sleep, but see that you don't ever let this happen again. Then he kissed her over and over, and clung to her tight, and at last dropped back and groaned. My reputation. Oh, my reputation. I've lost my reputation. She had to laugh while the tears were still running, and father and Laddie looked at each other and shouted. I guess they thought Leon was about right after that. Laddie went, and bent over him, and took his hand. Don't be in quite such a hurry, old man, he said. Before you wink out, I have got to tell you how proud I am of having a brother who was a real crusader. The Lord knows this took nerve. You're great, boy. Simply great. Leon grabbed Laddie's hand with both of his, and held tight and laughed. You could see the big tears squeeze out, although he fought to wink them back. He held to Laddie, and said, Lo like, only for him to hear. It's all right if you stay by a while, old man. He began to talk slowly. It was a long time before I caught up, and then I had to hide, and follow until day, and he wasn't so very easy to handle. Once I thought he had me sure. It was an awful load, but if it hadn't been for the good old gun, I'd never have got him. When we mixed up, I had fine luck getting that chin punch on him. Good thing I worked it out so slick on Absalom Saunders. And while old even so was Groggy, I got the money away from him, took the gun, and stood back some distance, before he came out of it. Once we had it settled, who walked ahead, and who carried the money and gun, we got along better. But I had to keep an eye on him every minute. To come through the woods was the shortest, but I'm tired out, and so is he. Getting close I most felt sorry for him. He was so forlorn, and so scared about what would be done to him. He stopped and pulled out another roll, and offered me all of it, if I'd let him go. I didn't know whether it was really his, or part of Father's, so I told him he could just drop it until I found out. Made him sweat blood, but I had the gun, and he had to mind. I was master then. So there may be more in the role I gave Father than even so took. Father can figure up and keep what belongs to him. Even so had gone away past Flanigans before I tackled him, and I was sleepy, cold, and hungry. You'd have thought there'd have been a man out hunting, or passing on the road. But not a soul did we see till priors. Say, the old man was bully. He helped me so. I almost thought I belonged to him. My, he's fine when you know him. After he came on the job, you bet old even so walked up. Say, where is he? Have you fed him? Laddie looked at Father, who was listening, and we all rushed to the door. But it must have been an hour, and even so hadn't waited. Father said it was a great pity, because a man like that shouldn't be left to pray on the community. But Mother said she didn't want to be mixed up with the trial, or to be responsible for taking the liberty of a fellow creature. And Father said that was exactly like a woman. Leon went to sleep, but none of us thought of going to bed. We just stood around and looked at him, and smiled over him, and cried about him. Until you would have thought he had been shipped to us in a glass case, and cost, maybe, a hundred dollars. Father got out his books and figured up his own, and the road money, and Miss Amelia's and the Church's. Laddie didn't want her around, so he stopped at the schoolhouse, and told her to stay at Justices that night. We'd need all our rooms. But she didn't like being sent away when there was such excitement, but everyone minded Laddie when he said so for sure. When Father had everything counted, there was more than his, quite a lot of it. Stolen from other people who sheltered the traveler, no doubt, Father said. We thought he wouldn't be likely to come back for it, and Father said he was at a loss what to do with it. But Laddie said he wasn't. It was Leon's. He had earned it. So Father said he would try to find out if anything else had been stolen. And he'd keep it a year. And then, if no one claimed it, he would put it on interest until Leon decided what he wanted to do with it. When you watched Leon sleep, you could tell a lot more about what had happened to him than he could. He moaned and muttered constantly, and panted, and felt around for the gun, and breathed like he was running again, and fought until Laddie had to hold him on the couch, and finally awakened him. But it did no good. He went right off to sleep again, and it happened all over. Then Father began getting his crusader blood up, although he always said he was a man of peace. But it was a lucky thing even so got away. For after Father had watched Leon a while, he said if that man had been on the premises, his fingers itched so to get at him. He was positive he'd have vented a little righteous indignation on him, that would have cost him within an inch of his life. And he'd have done it too. He was like that. It took a lot, and it was slow coming. But when he became angry enough, and felt justified in it, why you'd be much safer to be someone else than the man who provoked him. After ten o'clock the dog barked, someone tapped, and Father went. He always would open the door. You couldn't make him pretend he was asleep, or not at home when he was. And there stood Mr. Pryor. He said they could see the lights, and they were afraid the boy was ill, and could any of them help. Father said there was nothing they could do. Leon was asleep. Then Mr. Pryor said, If he is off sound, so it won't disturb him, I would like to see him again. Father told him Leon was restless, but so exhausted a railroad train wouldn't awaken him. So Mr. Pryor came in, and went to the couch. He took off his hat, like you do beside a grave, while his face slowly grew wider than his hair, and that would be snow white. Then he turned at last, and stumbled toward the door. Lady held it for him, but he didn't seem to remember he was there. He muttered over and over. Why? Why? In the name of God, why? Lady followed to the gate to help him on his horse, because he thought he was almost out of his head. But he had walked across the fields, so Lady kept far behind, and watched until he saw him go safely inside his own door. I think Father and Lady sat beside Leon all night. The others went to sleep. A little after-day break, just as Lady was starting to feed, there was an awful clamor, and here came a lot of neighbors, with even so. Mr. Freshet had found him asleep in a cattle-hole in the straw-stack, and searched him, and he had more money, and that made Mr. Freshet sure. And as he was very strong, and had been for years a soldier, and really loved to fight, he marched poor even so back to our house. Every few rods they met more men out-searching who came with them, until there were so many, our front yard, and the road were crowded. Of all the sights you ever saw, even so looked the worst. You could see that he'd drop over at much more. Those men kept crying they were going to hang him. But mother went out and talked to them, and said they mustn't kill a man for taking only money. She told them how little it was worth compared with other things. She had Candice bring even so a cup of hot coffee, lots of bread, and sausage from the skillet, and she said it was our money, and our lad, and we wanted nothing done about it. The men didn't like it, but the traveller did. He grabbed and gobbled like a beast at the hot food and cried, and mother said she forgave him and to let him go. Then Mr. Freshet looked awful disappointed, and he came up to father, with his back toward mother, and asked, That's your say too, Mr. Stanton? Father grinned sort of rueful like, but he said to give even so his money and let him go. He told all about getting ours back, and having had him at the house once before. He brought the money Leon took from him, but the men said no doubt he had stolen that, and Leon had earned it bringing him back, so the traveller shouldn't have it. They took him away on a horse, and said they'd let him go, but that they'd escort him from the county. Father told Mr. Freshet that he was a little suspicious of them, and he would hold him responsible for the man's life. Mr. Freshet said that he'd give his word that the man would be safe, they only wanted to make sure he wouldn't come back, and that he'd be careful in the future how he abused hospitality. So they went, and all of us were glad of it. I don't know what Mr. Freshet calls safe, for they took even so to Groveville and locked him up until night. Then they led him to the railroad, and made him crawl back and forth through an old engine beside the track, until he was blacker than any negro ever born, and then they had him swallow a big dose of croton oil for his health. That was the only kind thing they did, for afterward they started him down the track, and told him to run, and all of them shot at his feet as he went. Hannah Freshet told me at school the next day. Her father said even so just howled, and flew up in the air, and ducked and dodged, and ran like he'd never walked a step, or was a bit tired. We made a game of it, and after that one of the boys was even so, and the others were the mob, and the one who could howl nicest, jump highest, and go fastest could be it, oftenest. Leon grew all right faster than you would think. He went to school day after next, and the boys were sick with envy. They asked and asked, but Leon wouldn't tell much. He didn't seem to like to talk about it, and he wouldn't play the game, or even watch us. He talked a blue streak about the money. Father was going to write to every sheriff of the counties along the way the man said he had come, and if he could find no one before spring who had been robbed, he said Leon might do what he liked with the money. I used to pretend it was coming to me, and each day I thought of a new way to spend it. Leon was so sure he'd get it, he marched right over, and asked Mr. Pryor about a nice young thoroughbred horse from his stables. And when he came back he could get a colt like one so very cheap, that father and laddie looked at each other and gasped, and never said a word. They figured up, and if Leon got the money, he could have the horse and save some for college. And from the start he never changed a mite about those two things he wanted to do with it. He had the horse picked out and went to the field to feed and pet it and make it gentle, so he could ride bareback, and mother said he would be almost sick if the owner of the money turned up. Pulling his boots one night, father said so too, and that the thoughts of it worried him. He said Mr. Pryor had shaded his price, so that if the money had to go, he would be tempted to see if we couldn't manage it ourselves. I don't know how shading the price of a horse would make her feel better, but it did, and maybe Leon is going to get it. End of Chapter 9. This is the state of man. Today he puts forth the tender leaves of hopes, tomorrow blossoms, and bears his blushing honors thick upon him. The third day comes a frost, a killing frost. And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely, his greatness is a ripening, nips his root, and then he falls, as I do. Watch me take the plunge, said Laddie. Mad frenzy fires him now, quoted Leon. It was Sunday after dinner. We had been to church and Sunday school in the four-noon, and we had a houseful of company for dinner. All of them remained to spend the afternoon, because in our home it was perfectly lovely. We had a big dinner with everything good to start on, and then we talked and visited, and told all the news. The woman exchanged new recipes for cooking, advised each other about how to get more work done with less worry, to doctor their sick folks, and to make their dresses. At last, when everything was talked over, and there began to be a quiet time, father would reach across the table, pick up a paper, and read all the interesting things that had happened in the country during the past week. The jokes, too, and they made people think of funny stories to tell, and we just laughed. In the agriculturist there were new ways to farm easier, to make land bear more crops, so he divided that with the neighbors. Also how to make gardens and prune trees. Before he finished, he always managed to work in a lot about being honest, kind, and loving God. He and mother felt so good over Leon, and by this time they were beginning to see that they were mighty glad about the money, too. It wouldn't have been so easy to work and earn, and pay back all that for our school, roads, and the church. And every day you could see planar how happy they felt that they didn't have to do it. Because they were so glad about these things, they invited everyone they met that day. But we knew Saturday mother felt that probably she would ask a crowd, from the chickens, pie, and cake she got ready. When the reading part was over, and the women were beginning to look at the clock, and you knew they felt they should go home, and didn't want to. Laddie arose and said that, and Leon piped up like he always does, and made everyone laugh. Of course they looked at Laddie, and no one knew what he meant. So all the women, and a few of the men, asked him. "'Watch me,' I said, laughed Laddie, as he left the room. Soon Mrs. Dover, sitting beside the front window, cried. Here he is at the gate. He was on his horse, but he hitched it, and went around the house, and up the back way. Before long the stair door of the sitting-room opened, and there he stood. We stared at him. Of course he was bathed, and in clean clothing to start with. But he had washed and brushed some more, until he shone. His cheeks were as smooth and as clear pink as any girls, his eyes blue-gray and big, with long lashes and heavy brows. His hair was bright brown and wavy, and he was so big and broad, he never had been sick a day in his life, and he didn't look as if he ever would be. And clothes do make a difference. He would have had exactly the same hair, face, and body, wearing a hickory shirt and denim trousers. But he wouldn't have looked as he did in the clothes he wore at college, when it was Sunday there, or he was invited to a party at the Presidents. I don't see how any man could possibly be handsomer or look finer. His shirt, collar, and cuffs were snow-white, like everything had to be before mother got through with it. His big loose tie almost reached his shoulders. And our men could do a thing no other man in the neighborhood did. They could appear easier in the finest suit they could put on than in their working clothes. Mother used to say one thing she dreaded about Sunday was the evident tortures of the poor men squirming in boots she knew pinched them, coats too tight, and collars too high. She said they acted like half-broken colts fretting over restriction. Always she said to father and the boys when they went to buy their new clothes. Now don't join the harness fighters. Get your clothing big enough to set your bodies with comfort and ease. I suppose those other men would have looked like ours if their mothers had told them. You can always see that a man needs a woman to help him out awful bad. Of course Slady knew he was handsome. He had to know all of them were looking at him curiously. But he stood there, butting in his glove, and laughing to himself, until Sarah Hood asked, Now what are you up to? He took a step toward her, ran one hand under her lantern-jawed chin, pulled her head against his side, and turned up her face. Sarah, he said, Remember the day we spoiled the washing? Everyone laughed. They had made jokes about it until our friends knew what they meant. What are you going to spoil now? asked Sarah. The Egyptians, the foreigners, I'm going right after them. Well, you could be in better business, said Sarah Hood sharply. Lady laughed, and squeezed her chin, and hugged her head against him. Listen to that now, he cried, My best friend going back on me. Sarah, I thought you, of all people, would wish me luck. I do, she said instantly. And that's the very reason I don't want you mixed up with that mysterious, offish, stuck-up mess. Bless your dear heart, said Lady, giving her a harder squeeze than ever. You got that all wrong, Sarah. You'll live to see the day. Very shortly, when you'll change every word of it. I haven't done anything but get sureer about it every day for two years anyway, said Sarah Hood. Exactly, said Lady, but wait until I have taken the plunge. Let me tell you how the prior family strikes me. I think he is a high-tempered, domineering man, proud as Lucifer. For some cause, just or not, he is ruining his life and that of his family, because he so firmly believes it just. He is hiding here from his home country, his relatives, and friends. I think she is, barring you and mother, the handsomest woman of her age I ever saw. All of them laughed, because Sarah Hood was nearly as homely as a woman could grow, and maybe other people didn't find our mother so lovely as we thought her. I once heard one of her best friends say that she was distinctly plain. I didn't see how she could, but she said that. And the most pitiful, Laddie went on. Sarah, what do you suppose sends a frail little woman pacing the yard and up and down the road, sometimes in storm and rain, gripping both hands over her heart? I suppose it's some shameful thing I don't want you mixed up with, said Sarah Hood promptly, and people just shouted. Sarah, said Laddie, I've seen her closely, watched her move, and studied her expression. There's not one grain of possibility that you, or mother, or Mrs. Fahl, or any woman here, could be any closer connected with shame. Shame there is, said Laddie, and what a word, how it stings, burns, withers, and causes heart trouble and hiding. But shame in connection with that woman, more than shame thrust upon her, which might come to any of us at any time. Shame that is her error in the life of a woman having a face like hers. Sarah, I am ashamed of you. Your only excuse is that you haven't persisted as I have until you got to see for yourself. I am not much on persistence in the face of a locked door, a cast-iron man with a big cane, and two raving bulldogs, said Mrs. Hood. Wait, young man, just wait until he sets them on you. Laddie's head went back, and how he laughed. Hissed, a word with you, Sarah, he said, Remember I have sort of a knack with animals? I never have yet failed with one I undertook to win. Now those bulldogs of priors are as mild as kittens, with a man who knows the right word. Reason I know, Sarah, I've said the word to them, separately and collectively, and it worked. There is a contrast, Sarah, between what I say and do to those dogs, and the kicks and curses they get from their owner. I'll wager you two to one, that if you can get Mr. Pryor to go into a sicking contest with me, I can have his own dogs at his throat, when he can't make them do more than to lick my hands. They laughed as if that were funny. Well, I didn't know about this, said Sarah. How long have you lived at priors? You couldn't have heard what Lattie said if he'd spoken, so he waited until he could be heard, and it never worried him a speck. He only stood and laughed, too. Then, long enough, he said, to know that all of us are making a big and cruel mistake in taking them at their word and leaving them penned up there, weltering in misery. What we should do is to go over there, one at a time, or in a body, and batter at the door of their hearts, until we break down the wall of pride they have built around them, ease their pain, and bring them with us socially if they are going to live among us. You people who talk loudly and often about loving God, and doing unto others, should have gone long ago, for Jesus' sake. I'm going for the sake of a girl, with a face as sweet, and a heart as pure, as any accepted angel at the foot of the throne. Mother, I want a cup of peach jelly, and some of the exceptionally fine cake you served at dinner, to take to our sick neighbor. Mother left the room. Father, I want permission to cut and carry a generous chestnut branch, bird, and fall fruited to the young woman. There is none save ours in this part of the country, and she may never have seen any, and be interested. And I want that article about foot disease in horses, for Mr. Pryor. I'll bring it back when he finishes. Father folded the paper, and handed it to Laddie, who slipped it in his pocket. Take the finest branch you can select, Father said, and I almost fell over. He had carried those trees from Ohio before I had been born, and Mother said for years he wrapped them in her shawl in winter, and held an umbrella over them in summer. And Father always went red and grand when she told it. He was wild about trees, and bushes, so he made up his mind he'd have chestnuts. He planted them one place, and if they didn't like it, he dug them up, and set them another where he thought they could have what they needed, and hadn't got the last place. Finally he put them on the fourth move, on a little sandy ridge across the road from the woodyard, and that was the spot. They shot up, branched, spread, and one was a male, and two were females. So the pollen flew, the burrs filled right, and we had a bag of chestnuts to send each child away from home every Christmas. The brown leaves and burrs were so lovely, Mother cut one of the finest branches she could select, and hung it above the steel engraving of Lincoln freeing the slaves in the boys' room, and nothing in the house was looked at oftener or thought prettier. That must have been what was in the back of Laddie's head when he wanted a branch for the princess. Mother came in with a cake and jelly and a little fancy basket, and Laddie said, Thank you. Now everyone wish me luck. I'm going to ride to priors, knock at the door, and present these offerings with my compliments. If I'm invited in, I'm going to make the effort of my life at driving the entering wedge toward social intercourse between priors and their neighbors. If I'm not, I'll be back in thirty minutes and tell you what happened to me. If they refuse my gifts, you shall have the jelly, Sarah. I'll give Mrs. Fall the olive branch, bring back the paper, and eat the cake to console my wounded spirits. Of course everyone laughed. They couldn't help it. I watched father, and he left hardest of the men. But Mother was more stiff-lipped about it. She couldn't help a little, though. And I noticed some of those women acted as if they had lost something. Maybe it was a chance to gossip about Laddie, for he hadn't left them a thing to guess at. And Mother says the reason gossip is so dreadful is because it is always guesswork. Well, that was all fair and plain. He had told those people, our very best friends, what he thought about everything, the way they acted included. He was carrying something to each member of the prior family, and he'd left a way to return joking and unashamed if they wouldn't let him in. He had fixed things, so no one had anything to guess at. And it would look much worse for the priors than it would for him, if he did come back. I wondered if he had been born that smart, or if he learned it in college. If he did, no wonder Leon was bound to go. Come to think of it, though. Mother said Laddie was always like that. She said he never bit her when he nursed. He never mauled her, as if she couldn't be hurt when he was little. He never tore his clothes and made extra work as he grew. And never in his life gave her an hour's uneasiness. But I guess she couldn't have said that about uneasiness lately, for she couldn't keep from looking troubled, as all of us followed to the gate to see him start. How they joked and tried to tease him. But they couldn't get a breath ahead. He shot back answers as fast as they could ask questions, while he cut the branch and untied the horse. He gave the limb and basket to Mother to hold, kissed her goodbye, and me too, before he mounted. With my arms around his neck. I never missed a chance to try to squeeze into him how I loved him, I whispered. Laddie, is it a secret any more? He threw back his head and laughed the happiest. Not the ghost of a secret, he said, but you let me do the talking until I tell you. Then he went on, right out loud. I'm riding up the road, waving the banner of peace. If I suffer repulse, the same thing has happened to better men before, so I'll get a different banner and try again. Laddie mounted, swept a circle in the road, dropped floss on her knees in a bow, and waved the branch. Leon began to sing at the top of his voice. Nothing but leaves, nothing but leaves, while Laddie went flashing up the road. The woman went back to the house. The men stood around the gate, watched him from sight, talked about his horse, how he rode, and made wagers that he'd get shot out, like everyone did. But they said if that happened he wouldn't come back. Father was annoyed. You heard Laddie say he'd return immediately if they wouldn't let him in, he said. He's a man of his word. He will either enter or come home at once. It was pitch dark, and we had supper before some of them left. They never stayed so late. After we came from church, Father read the chapter, and we were ready for bed. Still, Laddie hadn't come back, and Father liked it. He just plain liked it. He chuckled behind the advocate, until you could see it shake. But Mother had very little to say, and her lips closed tight. At bedtime he said to Mother, Well, they don't seem in a hurry about sending the boy back. Did you really think he would be sent back? asked Mother. Not ordinarily, said Father. No. If he had no brain, no wit, no culture, on an animal basis, a woman would look twice before she'd send him away. But with such fanatics as priors, one can't always tell what will happen. In a case like this, one can be reasonably certain, said Mother. You don't know what social position they occupied at home. Their earmarks are all good. We've no such notions here as they have. Thank God for so much at any rate, said Mother. How old England would rise up and exalt if she had a man in line with Laddie's body, blood and brain, to set on her throne. This talk about class and social position makes me sick. Men are men, and Laddie is as much above the customary timber found in kings and princes, physically and mentally, as the sky is above the earth. Talk me no talk about class. If I catch it coming from any of mine, save you. I will beat it out of them. He has admitted he's in love with the girl. The real question is whether she's fit to be his wife. I should say she appears so, said Father. Drat appearances, cried Mother, when it's a question of lifetime misery and the sole salvation of my son. If things go wrong, I've no time for appearances. I want to know. He might have known he would make her angry when he laughed. She punched the pillow and wouldn't say another word. So I went to sleep and didn't miss anything that time. Next morning at breakfast Laddie was beaming, and Father hardly waited to ask the blessing before he inquired. Well, how did you make it, son? Laddie laughed and answered. All together it might have been much worse. That was all he would say until Miss Amelia started to school. Then he took me on his lap and talked as he buttoned my coat. Thomas met me at the gate, he said, and held my horse while I went to the door. One of their women opened it, and I inquired for Mr. Pryor. She said he was in the field looking at the horses, so I asked for Miss Pryor. She came in a minute, so I gave her the branch, told her about it, and offered the jelly and cake for her mother. The princess invited me to enter. I told her I couldn't without her father's permission, so I went to the fields to see him. The dogs were with him, and he had the surprise of his life when his man-eaters rolled at my feet and licked my hands. What did he say, chuckled father? Told Thomas they'd been overfed and did an amount to a brass farthing to take them to the woods and shoot them. Thomas said he'd see to it the very first thing in the morning, and then Mr. Pryor told him he would shoot him if he did. Charming man to work for, said mother. Then I told him I'd been at the house to carry a little gift to his wife and daughter, and to inquire if I might visit an hour. And as he was not there, I had come to the fields to ask him. Then I looked him in the eye and said, May I? I'll warrant the woman asked you to come in, he said. Miss Pryor was so kind, I answered, but I entered no man's house without his permission. May I talk with your daughter an hour and your wife if she cares to see me? It makes no earthly difference to me, he said, which was not gracious, but might have been worse, so I thanked him and went back to the house. When I knocked the second time the princess came, and I told her the word was that it made no difference to her father if I came in. So she opened the door widely, took my hat, and offered me a seat. Then she went to the next drum and said, Mother, father has given Mr. Stanton permission to pay us a call. Do you feel able to meet him? She came at once, offering her hand, and saying, I have already met Mr. Stanton so often, really, we should have the privilege of speaking. What did she mean by that? asked mother. She meant that I have haunted the road passing their place for two years, and she'd seen me so frequently that she came to recognize me. Umpf! said mother. Laddie, tell on! I begged. Well, I sharpened all the wits I had, and went to work. I never tried so hard in my life to be entertaining. Of course, I had to feel my way. I had no idea what would interest a delicate, high-bred lady—mother sniffed again—so I had to search and probe, and go by guess, until I saw a shade of interest. Then I worked in more of the same. It was easy enough to talk to the princess. All young folks have a lot in common. We could get along on fifty topics. It was different with the housebound mother. I did my best, and after a while Mr. Pryor came in. I asked him if any of his horses had been attacked with the trouble some of the neighbors were having, and told him what it was. He had the grace to thank me. He said he would tell Thomas not to tie his horse at the public hitching-rack when he went to town. And once he got started, he was wild to talk with a man, and I'd no chance to say a word to the woman. He was interested in our colleges, state, and national laws, inland development, and everything that all life men are. When a maid announced dinner, I apologized for having stayed so long, and excused myself, because I had been so interested. But Mrs. Pryor merely said, I'm waiting to be offered your arm. Well, you should have seen me drop my hat and step up. I did my best, and while I talked to him a little, I made it most to the woman. Anyone could see they were starved for company, so I took the job of entertaining them. I told some college jokes, funny things that had happened in the neighborhood, and everything of interest I could think up. I know we were at the table for two hours, with things coming and going on silver platters. Mother sat straight suddenly. Just what did they have to eat, and how did they serve it? she asked. Couldn't tell you if I were to be shot for it, mummy, said Laddie. Forgive me, next time I'll take notes for you. This first plunge I had to use all my brains, not to be a bore to them, and to handle food and cutlery as the woman did. It's quite a process, but as they were served first, I could do right by waiting. I never was where things were done quite so elaborately before. And they didn't know they would have company until you went to the table? Well, they must have thought likely there was a place for me. Umpf, said mother, fine idea, then anyone who drops in can be served, and see that they are not a might of trouble. Candice, always an extra place after this. Father just shouted. I thought you'd get something out of it, he said. Happy to have justified your faith, replied mother calmly. Go on, son. That's all, said Laddie. We left the table, and talked an hour more. The woman asked me to come again. He didn't say anything on that subject. But when he ordered my horse, he asked the princess if she would enjoy a little exercise, and she said she would. So he told Thomas to bring their horses, and we rode around the section, the princess and I ahead, Mr. Pryor following. Where the road was good and the light fine enough that there was no danger of blaming a horse, we dropped back, one on either side of him, so we could talk. Mrs. Pryor ate the cake and said it was fine, and the conserve, as she called it, delicious as she ever had tasted. She said all our fruits here had much more flavor than at home. She thought it was the drier climate and more sunshine. She sent her grateful thanks, and she wants your recipe before next preserving time. Mother just beamed. My, but she did love to have the thing she cooked, bragged on. Possibly she'd like my strawberries, she said. There isn't a doubt about it, said Laddie. I've yet to see the first person who doesn't. Is that all? asked mother. I can think of nothing more at this minute, answered Laddie. If anything comes to my mind later, I won't forget to tell you. Oh yes, there was one thing. You couldn't keep Mr. Pryor from talking about Leanne. He must have taken a great fancy to him. He talked until he worried the Princess, and she tried to keep him away from the subject, but his mind seemed to run on it constantly. When we were riding, she talked quite as much as he, and it will hustle us to think what the little scamp did, any bigger than they do. Of course, Father, you understood the price Mr. Pryor made on one of his very finest colts was a joke. There's a strain of Arab in the father. He showed me the record, and the mother is bluegrass. There you get gentleness and endurance, combined with speed and nerve. I'd trade floss for that colt as it stands today. There's nothing better on earth than the way of horse. His offer is practically giving it away. I know, with the records to prove its pedigree, what that colt would bring him in any city market. I don't like it, said mother. I want Leanne to have a horse, but a boy in a first experience, and reckless as he is, doesn't need a horse like that for one thing. And what is more important, I refuse to be put under any obligations to priors. That's the reason Mr. Pryor asked anything at all for the horse. It is my opinion that he would be greatly pleased to give it to Leanne if he could do what he liked. Well, that's precisely the thing he can't do in this family, said mother sternly. What do you think, father? asked Vladdy. I think, amen to that proposition, said father, but I would have to take time to thresh it out completely. It appeals to me that Leanne is old enough to recognize the value of the animal, and that the care of it would develop and strengthen his character. It would be a responsibility that would study him. You could teach him to tend and break it. Break it! cried Vladdy. Break it! Why, father, he's riding it bareback, all over the Pryor meadow now, and jumping it over logs. Whenever he leaves it follows him to the fence, and the princess says, almost any hour of the day you look out, you can see it pacing up and down, watching this way, and whinnying for him to come. And your best judgment is? Vladdy laughed as he tied my hood strings. Well, I don't feel about the Pryors as the rest of you do, he said. If the money isn't claimed inside the time you specified, I would let Leanne and Mr. Pryor make their own bargain. The boy won't know for years that it is practically a gift, and it would please Mr. Pryor immensely. Now run, or you'll be late. I had to go, so I didn't know how they settled it. But if they wouldn't let Leanne have that horse, it was downright mean. What if we were under obligations to Mr. Pryor? We were to Sarah Hood and half the people we knew, and what was more, we liked to be. When I came from school that night, father had been to town. He had an axe and was opening a big crate, containing two of the largest bluest geese you ever saw. Vladdy said being boxed that way, and seeing them so close, made them look so big. Really, they were no finer than Pryor's, where he had got the address of the place that sold them. Mother was so pleased, she said she had needed a new strain, for a long time, to improve her feathers. Now she would have pillows worthwhile in a few years. They put them in the barn where Argie stayed overnight, and how they did scream. That is, one of them did. The other acted queerly, and father said to Vladdy, that he was afraid the trip was hard on it. Vladdy said it might have been hurt, and mother was worried too. Before she had them an hour, she had sold all our ganders, spring had come, she had saved the blue goose eggs, set them under a hen, raised the gaslings with the little chickens, never lost one, picked them, and made a new pair of pillows, too fine for anyone less important than a bishop, or a judge, or Dr. Fenner to sleep on. Then she began saving for a feather bed. And still the goose didn't act as spry, or feel as good as the gander. He stuck up his head, screamed, spread his wings, and waved them. And the butts looked so big and hard, I was not right certain whether it would be safe to tease him or not. The first person who came to see them was Sarah Hood, and she left with the promise of a pair as soon as mother could raise them. Father said the only reason mother didn't divide her hair with Sarah Hood was because it was fast, and she couldn't. Mother said gracious goodness, she'd be glad to get rid of some of it if she could, and of course Sarah should have first chance at it. Hadn't she kept her overnight so she could see her new home when she was rested, and didn't she come with her and help her get settled? And had she ever failed when we had a baby, or sickness, or trouble, or thrashers, or a party? Of course she'd gladly divide, even the hair of her head with Sarah Hood. And father said, yes, he guessed she would, and come to think of it, he'd just as soon spare Sarah part of his. And then they both laughed, when it was nothing so very funny that I could see. End of Chapter 10, Part 1 The next caller the geese had was Mrs. Freshett. My, she thought they were big and fine. Mother promised her a couple of eggs to set under a hen. Father said she was gradually coming down the scale of her feelings. And before two weeks she'd give Isaac Thomas, at least, a quill for a pen. Almost no one wrote with them any more. But often father made a few, and showed us how to use them. He said they were gone with candles, sandboxes, and snuff. Mother said she had no use for snuff, but candles were not gone. She'd make them and use them to the day of her death, as they were the nicest light ever invented, to carry from room to room, or when you only wanted to sit and think. Father said there was really no good pen, except the quill you sharpened yourself. And while he often used steel ones like we children had at school, to write to the brothers and sisters away, and his family, he always kept a few choice quills in the till of his chest. And when he wrote a deed, or any valuable paper, where there was a deal with money, he used them. He said it lent the dignity of a past day, to an important occasion. After mother and Mrs. Freshett had talked over every single thing about the geese, and that they were like priors had been settled, Mrs. Freshett said. Since he told about it before all of us, and started out the way he did, would it be a miss to ask how lad he got on at priors? Just the way I thought he would, said mother. He stayed until all of us were in bed, and I'd never have known when he came in, if it were not a habit of his, always to come to my door, to see if I'm sleeping. Sometimes I'm wakeful, and if he pommels my pillow good, brings me a drink, and rubs my head a few strokes with his strong, cool hands, I can settle down and have a good night's rest. I was awake when he came, or I'd never have known. It was almost midnight, but they sat two hours at the table, and then all of them rode. Not the missus. Oh no, she's not strong enough. She really has incurable heart trouble. The worst kind there is, her daughter told me so. Then they better look out, said missus freshet. She is likely to keel over at a breath. They must know it, that's why she keeps so quiet. And they had him to supper? It was a dinner served at night, yes. He took missus prior in on his arm, and it was like a grand party, just as they fixed for themselves alone. Waiters and silver trays, and things carried in and out in courses. My land, well I suppose he had enough school to get him through it all right. My mother's face grew red. She never left anyone in doubt as to what she meant. Father said that was the dutch of it, and mother always answered that if anyone living could put things plainer than the English, she would like to hear them do it. He certainly had, said mother, or they wouldn't have invited him to come again. And all of mine, missus freshet, knew how to sit properly at the table and manage a knife, fork, and napkin before they ever took a meal away from home. No fence, laughed missus freshet. I meant that maybe his years of college school had give him ways more like theirs than most of us have. For all the money it takes to send a boy to college, he ought to get something out of it more than just fill in his head with figures and stars and orator, and most always you can see that he does. It is contact with cultivated people, said mother. You are always influenced by it, without knowing it, often. Maybe you are, being so fine yourself, said missus freshet. And me too, I never get among my bedders, that I don't carry home a law I put right into daily use, and nobody knows it plainer. I come here expecting to learn things that help me, and when I go home I know I have. Why thank you, said mother, I'm sure that is a very nice compliment, and I wish I really could feel that it is well deserved. Oh, I guess you do, said missus freshet, laughing. I often noticed you making a special effort to teach puttin' heads like me something, and I always thank you for it. There's a world in right teachin'. I never had any, so all I can pick up and hammer into mine is a gain for me and them. If my Henry had lived, and come out anything like that boy a yarn, and the show he made last Sunday, I'd do well if I didn't swell up and bust with pride. And the little toe-haired strip, takin' the gun and startin' out alone after a robber, even if he won't much of a man. That was downright spunky. If my boys will come out anywhere near like yarn, I'll be glad. I don't know how my boys will come out, said mother, but I work, pray, hope, and hang on to them. That's all I know to do. Well, if they don't come out right, they ought to be bumped, said missus freshet. After all the chances they've had, I don't know just how fresh it was brung up, but I had no chance at all. My folks, well, I guess the less said, little pitchers you know. I can't see as I was to blame. I was the youngest, and I knew things was wrong. I fought to go to school, and pep let me enough that I saw how other people lived. Come night I'd go to the garret, and bar the trap door. But there would be times when I couldn't help seein' what was going on. How'd you like chances, such as that for a girl a yarn? Dreadful, said mother, missus freshet, please do be careful. Sure, left missus freshet. I was just going to tell you about me and Josiah. He come to our house one night, a stranger off the road. He said he was sick and tired, and could he have a bed? Mother said, no, for him to move on. He tried, and he couldn't. They was something about him. Well, you know how them things go. I won only sixteen, but I felt so sorry for him. All fever burned and mumbling. I helped pep put him to bed, and doctored him all I could. Come morning he was a sick man. Pep went for the county doctor, and he just took one look and says, smallpox, all of ye get. I was bound I wouldn't go. But pep made me, and the doctor said he'd send a man who'd had it. So I started, but I felt so bad. Come a chance when they got to Groville, I slipped out and went back. The man hadn't come, so I set to work the best I knowed. For long Josiah was a little better, and he asked who I was, and where my folks went, and I told him. And he asked why I came back, and I didn't know what to say, so I just hung my head, and couldn't face him. After a while he says, All right, I guess I got this sized up. If you'll stay and nurse me through, I'll be well enough to pull you out by the time you get it. And soon as we're able, we'll splice, if you say so. Marry me, you mean, says I. They weren't ever any talk about marrying at our house. Sure, says he. You're a mighty likely looking girl. I'll do fair by ye. And he always has, too. But I didn't feel right to let him go at blind, so I just up and says. You wouldn't if you knowed my folks. You look as decent as I do, says he. I'll chance it. Then I told him I was as good as I was born, and he believed me, and he always hased, and I was, too. So I nursed him, but I didn't make the job of it he did. You remember, he is pitted considerable. He was so strong I just couldn't keep him from disfiguring himself. But he tied me. I begged to be loose, and he wouldn't listen. So I got a clean face, only three little scars, and they ain't deep to speak of. He says he looks like a piece of side meat, but, say, they ain't nothing to matter with his looks to me. The nurse man never did come, but the county doctor passed things in the winter, till I was over the worst. And Josiah sent for a preacher, and he married us through the winter. I got the ratings to show, all framed and proper. Josiah said he'd see. I got all they was in it, long that line anyway. When I was well, hanged if he didn't produce a wad from his clothes before they burnt them, and he got us new things to wear, and a horse, and wagon, and we'd drift away here where we thought we could start right, and after we had the land, and built the cabin, and just as happy as heart could wish. Long come a man I'd made mad once, and he told everything up and down. Josiah was good about it. He offered to sell the land, and pull up and go further. What's the use, says I. Hundreds know it. We can't go so far, it won't be like to follow us. Let's stay here and fight it. All right, says Josiah, but time and again he has offered to go if I couldn't make it. Hang on a little longer, says I. Every time he knew I was snubbed and slighted. I never told what he didn't notice. I tried church. When my children began to get a size, I wanted them to have right teaching, and you come, and welcomed me, and you've been my friend, and now the others is coming over at last, and visiting me, and they ain't a thing more I want in life. I am so glad, said Mother. Oh, my dear, I am so glad. Go and write home, and tell that to Josiah, said Mrs. Freshet, jumping up, laughing, and crying like, and maybe I'll just spread my wings and fly. I never was so happy in all my life as I was Sunday, when you asked me before all of them, so cordial like, and says I to Josiah. We'll go and try it once, and we come, and nobody turned a cold shoulder on us, and I wasn't wearing specs to see if they did, for I never knowed him so happy in all his days. Order heard him whistle going home, and he's trying all them things he learned on our place, and you can see it looks a heap better already, and now he's talking about building in the spring. I knowed he had money, but he never mentioned building before, and I always thought it was because he's supposed likely we'd have to move on sometime. Piers now is if we can settle, and live like other folks after all these years. I knowed she didn't want me to talk, but I had to tell you. When you asked us to the wedding, and others began coming round, says I to Josiah. Won't she be glad to know that my skirts is clear, and I did as well as I could? And he says, that she will, and more am I, says he. I'm mighty proud of you, says he. Proud, think of that. Miss Stanton, I just weighed fire and blood for you. Oh, my dear, said Mother, what a dreadful thing to say. Give me the chance and watch if I don't, said Mrs. Freshit. Now Josiah is proud I stuck it out. Now I can have a house. Now my children can have all the show we can raise to give them. I'm done cringing and dodging. I've always done my best. Henceforth I need to hold up my head and say so. I sure can't be held for what was done for I was on earth, or since neither. You've given me my show. I'm going to take it. But if you want to know what's in my heart about you, give me any kind of a chance to prove it, and see if I don't pony right up to it. Mother laughed until the tears rolled. She couldn't help it. She took Mrs. Freshit in her arms and hugged her tight, and kissed her mighty near like she does Sarah Hood. Mrs. Freshit threw her arms around Mother, and looked over her shoulder, and said to me, Sis, when you grow up, always take a chance to unwelcoming the stranger, like your ma does, and heaven's bound to be your home. My, but your ma is a woman to be proud of. She said, hugging Mother, and patting her on the back. All of us are proud of her, I boasted. I doubt if you are proud enough, cried Mrs. Freshit. I have my doubts. I don't see how people live in with her, and see in her every day, are in a shape to know just what she can do for a person, in the place I was in. I have my doubts. That night, when I went home from school, Mother was worrying over the blue goose. When we went to feed, she told Lian that she was afraid it was weak, and not getting enough to eat when it fed with the others. She said after the work was finished, to take it out alone, and give it all it would eat. So when the horses were tended, the cows milked, everything watered, and the barn ready to close for the night. Laddie took the milk to the house, while Lian and I caught the blue goose, carried her to the well, and began to shell-corn. She was starved to death almost. She ate a whole year in no time and looked for more, so Lian sent me after another. By the time that was most gone, she began to eat slower, and stick her bill in the air, to help the grains slip down. So I told Lian, I thought she had enough. No such thing, said Lian. You distinctly heard Mother tell me, to give her all she would eat. She's eating, isn't she? Go bring another ear. So she was, but I was doubtful about more. Lian said I'd better mind, or he would tell Mother, so I got it. She didn't begin on it with any enthusiasm. She stuck her bill higher, stretched her neck longer, and she looked so funny when she did it, that we just shrieked. Then Lian reached over, took her by the bill, and stripped her neck to help her swallow. And as soon as he let go, she began to eat again. You see, said Lian, she's been starved. She can't get enough. I must help her. So he did help her every little bit. By that time we were interested in seeing how much she could hold. And she looked so funny, that Lian sent me for more corn. But I told him I thought what she needed now was water. So we held her to the trough, and she tried to drink. But she couldn't swallow much. We sat her down beside the corn, and she went to eating again. Go it, old millhopper, cried Lian. Right then there was an awful commotion in the barn, and from the squealing we knew one of the horses was loose, and fighting the others. We ran to fix them, and had a time to get Joe back into his stall, and tied. Before we had everything safe, the supper-bell rang, and I bet Lian a penny I could reach the house while he shut the door and got there. We forgot every single thing about the goose. At supper mother asked Lian if he fed the goose all she would eat, and I looked at him guilty-like, for I remembered we hadn't put her back. He frowned at me cross as a bear, and I knew that meant he had remembered, and would slip back and put her inside when he finished his supper. So I didn't say anything. I didn't feed her all she would eat, said Lian. If I had, she'd be at it yet. She was starved sure enough. You never saw anything like the corn she downed. Well, I declare, said mother. Now after this take her out alone for a few days, and give her as much as she wants. All right, chuckled Lian, because it was a lot of fun to see her run her bill around, and gobble up the corn, and stick up her head. The next day was Saturday, so after breakfast I went with Lian to drive the sheep and geese to the creek to water. The trough was so high, it was only for the horses and cattle. When we let out the geese, the blue one wasn't there. Oh, Lian, did you forget to come back and put her in? Yes, I did, he said. I meant to when I looked at you to keep still, and I started to do it, but Sammy Deem whistled, so I went down in the orchard to see what he wanted. And we got to planning how to get up a fox chase, and I stayed until father called for night, and then I ran and forgot all about the blame old goose. Oh, Lian, where is she? What will mother say? Suppose a fox got her. It wouldn't help me any if it had, after I was to blame for leaving her outside. Blast, a girl, if you ever amounted to anything, you could have put her in while I fixed the horses. At least you could have told me to. I stood there dumb-like and stared at him. He has got the awfulest way of telling the truth when he is scared or provoked. Of course I should have thought of the goose when he was having such a hard fight with the horses. If I'd been like he was, I'd have told him that he was older, mother told him to do it, and it wasn't my fault. But in my heart I knew he did have his hands full, and if you're your brother's keeper, you ought to help your brother remember. So I stood gawking, while Lian slowly turned whiter and whiter. We might as well see if we can find her, he said at last, so slow and hopeless like it made my heart ache. So he started around the straw-stack one way, and I the other, looking into all the holes. And before I had gone far I had a glimpse of her, and it scared me so I screamed, for her head was down, and she didn't look right. Lian came running and pulled her out. The swelled corn rolled in a little trail after her, and the pigs ran up and began to eat it. Pigs are named riter than anything else I know. Busted, cried Lian, in tones of awe, about the worst awe you ever heard, and the worst bust you ever saw. From bill to breast she was wide open, and the harmony spilling. We just stood staring at her, and then Lian began to kick the pigs, because it would be no use to kick the goose, she would never know. Then he took her up, carried her into the barn, and put her on the floor where the other geese had stayed all night. We stood, and looked at her some more, as if looking and hoping would make her get up and be alive again. But there's nothing in all this world so useless, as wishing dead things would come alive. We had to do something. What are you going to tell mother? Shut up, said Lian, I'm trying to think. I'll say it was as much my fault as yours. I'll go with you. I'll take half whatever they do to you. Little fool, said Lian, what good would that do me? Do you know what they cost? Could you get another with some of your horse money? I saw it coming and dodged again, before I remembered the crusaders. All right, I said, if that's the way you're going to act, Smarty, I'll lay all the blame on you. I won't help you a bit, and I don't care if you are whipped until the blood runs. Then I went out of the barn, and slammed the door. For a minute I felt better. But it was a short time. I said that to be mean, but I did care. I cared dreadfully. I was partly to blame, and I knew it. Coming around to the barn I met Laddie, and he saw in a flash I was in trouble. So he stopped and asked, What now, chicken? Coming to the barn where no one will hear us, I said. So we went around to the outside, entered at the door on the embankment, and he sat in the wheelbarrow on the threshing floor while I told him. I thought I felt badly enough, but after I saw Laddie it grew worse. For I remembered we were short of money that fall, that the goose was a fine expensive one, and how proud Mother was of her, and how she'd be grieved, and that was trouble for sure. Run along and play, said Laddie, and don't tell anyone else if you can help it. I'll hide the goose, and see if I can get another in time to take the place of this one, so Mother won't be worried. I walked to the house slowly, but I was afraid to enter. When you were all choked up, people are sure to see it, and ask full questions. So I went around to the gate, and stood there, looking up and down the road, and over the meadow toward the big woods. And all at once, in one of those high, regular bugle halls, like they mostly scream in spring, one of Pryor's ganders split the echoes for a mile, maybe farther. I was across the road, and slinking down inside the meadow fence before I knew it. There was no thought or plan. I started for Pryor's, and went straight ahead, only I kept out of line with our kitchen windows. I tramped through the slush, ice, and crossed fields where I was afraid of horses. But when I got to the top of the Pryor backyard fence, I stuck there, for the bulldogs were loose, and came raving at me. I was going to be eaten alive, for I didn't know the word Laddie did. And those dogs climbed a fence like a person. I saw them the time Leon brought back even so. I was thinking what a pity it was, after everyone had grown accustomed to me, and had begun loving me, that I should be wasted for dog-feed, when Mr. Pryor came to the door, and called them. They didn't mind, so he came to the fence, and crossed the stew ever heard, every bit as bad as the dogs, he cried. Who's brat are you, and what are you doing here? I meant to tell him, but you must have a minute after a thing like that. God of my life, he fairly frothed. What did anybody send a dumb child here for? Dumb child. I didn't care if Mr. Pryor did wear a crown of glory. It wasn't going to do him one particle of good, unless he was found in the way of the Lord. Dumb child. I was no more dumb than he was, until his bulldogs scared me so my heart got all tangled up with my stomach, my lungs, and my liver. That made me mad, and there was nothing that would help me loosen up and talk fast, like losing my temper. I wondered what kind of a father he had, if he'd been stood against the wall, and made to recite, speak gently, as often as all of us, perhaps he'd have remembered the verse it says. Speak gently to the little child, its love be short again. Teach it in accents, soft and mild. It may not long remain. I should think not, if it had any chance at all to get away. I was so angry by that time, I meant to tell him what I thought. Polite or not polite, I'd take a switching if I had to, but I wasn't going to stand that. You haven't got any God in your life, I reminded him, and no one sent me here. I came to see the Princess, because I'm in awful trouble, and I hoped maybe she could fix up a way to help me. Ye gods, he cried. He would stick to calling on God, whether he believed in him or not. If it isn't Nimrod, I didn't recognize you in all that bundling. Probably he didn't know it, but Nimrod was from the Bible, too. By bundling he meant my hood and coat. He helped me from the fence, sent the bulldogs rolling. Sure enough he did kick them, and they didn't like it either. Took my hand and led me straight into the house, and the Princess was there, and a woman who was her mother no doubt, and he said, Pamela, here's our little neighbor, and she says she's in trouble, and she thinks you may be of some assistance to her. Of course you will be glad if you can. Surely, said the Princess, and she introduced me to her mother, so I bowed the best I could, and took off my wet mitten, dirty with climbing fences, to shake hands with her. She was so gracious and lovely I forgot what I went after. The Princess brought a cloth and wiped the wet from my shoes and stockings, and asked me if I wouldn't like a cup of hot tea to keep me from taking a chill. I've been much wetter than this, I told her, and I never have taken a chill, and anyway my throat's too full of trouble to drink. Why, you poor child, said the Princess, tell me quickly, is your mother ill again? Not now, but she's going to be as soon as she finds out, I said, and then I told them. They all listened without a sound until I got where Leon helped the goose eat, and from there on Mr. Pryor laughed until you could easily see that he had very little feeling for suffering humanity. It was funny enough when we fed her, but now that she was bursted wide open there was nothing amusing about it. And to roar when a visitor plainly told you she was in awful trouble didn't seem very good manners to me. The Princess and her mother never even smiled, and before I had told nearly all of it Thomas was called to hitch the Princess's driving cart, and she took me to their barnyard to choose the goose that looked most like mothers. And all of them seemed like hers, so we took the first one Thomas could catch, put it into a bag in the back of the cart, and then we got in and started for our barn. As we reached the road I said to her, you'd better go past Dover's, for if we come down our little hill they will see us sure, it's baking day. All right, said the Princess, so we went the long way round the section, but goodness me when she drove no way was far. When we were opposite our barn she stopped, hitched her horse to the fence, and we climbed over, and slipping behind the barn carried the goose around to the pen and put it in with ours. She said she wanted the broken one, because her father would enjoy seeing it. I didn't see how he could. We were ready to slip out when our geese began to run at the new one, hiss and scream, and make such a racket that Laddie and Leon both caught us. They looked at the goose, at me, the Princess, and each other, and neither said a word. She looked back a little bit, and then she laughed as hard as she could. Leon grew red, and he grinned a shame to like, so she laughed worse than ever. Laddie spoke to me. You went to Mr. Pryor's and asked for that goose? She did not, said the Princess, before I could answer. She never asked for anything. She was making a friendly morning call, and in the course of her visit she told about the pathetic end of the goose that was expected to lay the golden egg, I mean stuff the Bishop's pillow, and as we have a large flock of blue geese, father gave her one, and he had the best time he's had in years doing it. I wouldn't have had him miss the fun he got from it for any money. He laughed like home again. Now I must slip away before anyone sees me, and spoils our secret. Leon Lad, you can go to the house and tell your little mother that the feeding stopped every pain her goose had, and hereafter it looks to you as if she'd be all right. Miss Pryor, said Leon, did you care about what I said at you in church that day? Thou art all fair, my love, there is no spot in thee. Well, it was a little pointed, but since you ask a plain question, I have survived it. I'm awfully sorry, said Leon. Of course I never would, if I'd known you could be this nice. The Princess looked at Laddie, and almost gasped, and then both of them laughed. Leon saw that he had told her he was sorry he said that she was fair and no spot in her. Oh, I don't mean that, he said. What I do mean is that I thank you awful much for the goose, and helping me out like such a brick of a good fellow, and what I wish is that I was as old as Laddie, and he'd hump himself if he got to be your beau. The Princess almost ran. Laddie and I followed to the road, where he unhitched the horse and helped her in. Then he stood stroking its neck, as he held the bridle. I don't know what to say, said Laddie. In such case I would counsel silence, advised the Princess. I hope you understand how I thank you. I failed to see what for. Father gave the goose to Little Sister. Her things and Leon's are more than enough for him. We had great sport. I insist on adding mine, deep and fervent. You take everything so serious. Can't you see the fun of this? No, said Laddie, but if you can, I am glad, and I'm thankful for anything that gives me a glimpse of you. By Little Sister, said the Princess, and when she loosened the lines, the mud flew a rod high.