Southern Branch of the University of California Los Angeles Form L I 3S37 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below EB ~ ^ 1925 MAR 1 - 1925 APR 3 1925 MAR 261926 Form L-9-15m-8,'24 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE A COUNTRY CHRONICLE BY ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE WRIGHT W^ 3$ &*&*<*. ^.v-SsS r^w NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1917 n F" *"? -1 n f U Copyright, 1916, by THE CKNTURY Co. Published October, 1916 PS 3 537 S55.3 CONTENTS PAGE I WE GET READY TO CALL ON UNCLE ANTHONY, BUT MY BROTHER GOES TO CHURCH . . 3 II WE INVITE UNCLE ANTHONY AND AUNT PHCEBE TO A DANCE 8 III MY BROTHER AND EDIE GO HOME TO DIN NER DURING NOON RECESS, BUT I PLAY WITH THE BOYS 14 IV WE GO AFTER FROZEN APPLES 20 V MR. WHITE AND GRANDPA TYLER TALK POLI TICS AT THE STORE 26 VI MY FATHER TALKS WITH OLD NEIGHBORS, AND ASKS THEM TO THE DANCE ... 32 VII EVERYBODY COMES, AND JOHNNIE FORMS ON 39 VIII MY MOTHER AND FATHER TAKE PART IN THE OLD DANCES 46 IX I WATCH THE DANCING, BUT CAN'T KEEP AWAKE TILL S-UPPER 53 X JACK WASHINGTON AND COLONEL STANIS- LAWSKI GIVE TEMPERANCE LECTURES . . 59 XI JACK SINGS TEMPERANCE SONGS, AND PITCHES INTO THE SALOONS 65 XII I DIG A PATH, AND GET A RIDE TO SCHOOL WITH WALT 71 XIII WE HAVE FUN IN THE SNOW BEFORE SCHOOL CALLS 76 XIV WE MAKE TWO SNOW FORTS AT NOON, AND HAVE A BATTLE 81 XV EDIE IS PUNISHED AT SCHOOL, RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY BROTHER 86 XVI CONTENTS i MY FATHER AND UNCLE ANTHONY SHOVEL OUT THE ROAD. AND WE SEE A SNOW- PLOUGH 93 XVII THERE IS A BIG SNOW STORM, AND THE "YOUTH'S COMPANION" DOESN'T COME . 99 XVIII IT IS COLD AT SCHOOL, AND TEACHER LETS US DO AS WE PLEASE 104 XIX MY FATHER BEGINS TO TAP TREES IN THE SUGAR-BUSH 109 XX TIP AND BILL AND GEORGIE GO WITH ME TO THE ARCH 114 XXI I HELP MY FATHER GATHER SAP AND BOIL DOWN 119 XXII MY FATHER AND MOTHER SUGAR OFF, AND MAKE SYRUP 124 XXIII AFTER THE SYRUP, WE MAKE CAKES OF SUGAR 129 XXIV MY BROTHER LETS THE BOYS AND ME GO TO THE ARCH WITH HIM 134 XXV WE BAKE POTATOES AND BOIL EGGS AT THE ARCH 139 XXVI I SPEND AN EVENING AT THE ARCH WITH MY FATHER 145 XXVII WE BOIL DOWN, AND TAKE THE SYRUP HOME 151 XXVIII I HUNT FOR MAYFLOWERS, AND SEE MY BROTHER AND EDIE 157 XXIX I HELP MY MOTHER CLEAN UP THE FRONT YARD 164 XXX MY FATHER SOWS WHEAT. AND WE ATTEND TO THE BERRY PATCHES 170 XXXI WE PICK UP STONE, AND I GO WITH MY BROTHER AFTER REDHORSE 174 XXXII MY BROTHER AND EDIE ARE MISSING . . .180 XXXIII I GO FISHING WITH TIP AND BILL AND GEORGIE 187 XXXIV WE HAVE A SWIM, CATCH FISH, AND LOSE OUR LINES ON THE WIRES 193 vi CONTENTS PAGE XXXV I FIND THE FIRST STRAWBERRY, AND MY FATHER MAKES BOXES 199 XXXVI IT IS A HOT DAY AT SCHOOL, AND CHARLEY AND DAN HAVE A QUARREL 206 XXXVII GERTIE AND TIP HAVE TROUBLE WITH DAN IN COUNTING OUT AND PEG 212 XXXVIII WE HAVE THUNDER AXD LIGHTNING, RAIX, HAIL, AND A FINE RAINBOW 218 XXXIX I MANAGE THE STRAWBERRY PICKING WHILE MY FATHER GETS IN HAY 226 XL MY FATHER AND I TAKE THE BERRIES TO THE VILLAGE 233 XLI I BREAK THE OLD HEN'S LEG, AND WE PICK RASPBERRIES 241 XLII MY MOTHER HEARS FROM DORA THAT MY BROTHER AND EDIE ARE THERE . . . .246 XLIII EDIE'S MOTHER COMES DOWN JUST AFTER THE LETTER HAS BEEN READ 252 XLIV MY FATHER AXD UNCLE ANTHONY CULTIVATE CORN, AND STOP TO TALK 257 XLV GRANDPA TYLER JOKES MY FATHER ABOUT HIS CLOTHES 263 XLVI OLD JERRY DODGE IS DRUNK AGAIN, AXD CAP SWANN GETS A LETTER 268 XLVII MR. WHITE TALKS POLITICS, AXD MR. PURDY IS DISGUSTED 274 XLVIII MY FATHER AND I GET READY TO MAKE A SUNDAY VISIT 280 XLIX WE DRIVE TO AUNT CATY'S AND UNCLE DAN- EL'S 284 L MY FATHER TELLS ME ABOUT THE PLANK ROAD AND EARLY TIMES 288 LI WE FIND COUSIN DELIA FEEDING THE CHICK ENS AXD TURKEYS 292 LII COUSIN SYLVANUS AND ALL THE REST ARE GLAD TO SEE US 297 vii CONTENTS PAGE LIII WE HAVE BROWN EGGS, HOT BISCUITS, AND PEAR PRESERVES FOR DINNER .... 304 LIV WE FEED THE HORSES, AND GET A BASKET OF SWEET-APPLES 310 LV THE HALES AND ALVARUS COME, AND AL- VARUS TELLS ABOUT THE DOGS . . . .315 LVI MY FATHER AND I START HOME, AND DELIA FEEDS THE CHICKENS AGAIN 321 LVII WE KILL SOME ROOSTERS, AND GO TO MEET MY BROTHER AND EDIE 328 LVIII MY BROTHER AND EDIE HAVE THANKSGIVING DINNER WITH US 333 LIX AUNT PHCEBE AND UNCLE ANTHONY COME OVER AFTER SUPPER 338 LX SYD AND STEVE AND THE GIRLS CALL ON MY BROTHER AND EDIE 344 vm A COUNTRY CHRONICLE CHARACTERS I, THE CHRONICLER: a boy ten years old MY FATHER: an early settler, from New York MY MOTHER: an early settler, from New Hampshire MY BROTHER: a big boy at school UNCLE ANTHONY and AUNT PHOEBE: early settlers EPHRAM WHITE: storekeeper and postmaster GRANDPA TYLER, MR. PCHDY, MR. WILLIAMS: early settlers MRS. TYLER, MRS. PUHDY, MRS. WILLIAMS CAP SWANN, JERRY DODGE, PETER WALKER: old residents JOHNNIE: day operator LON and LEDLEY: fiddlers JACK WASHINGTON- and COLONEL STANISLAWSKI: temperance lecturers GOTTLIEB, ERNEST, ANNIE, PAULINE: Germans MRS. JAMES, ME. ROLFE: at the Village SYD, STEVE, WALT, LITTLE JOE, CHARLEY, JIM: big boys. FRANK, LIJE, DAN, JACK, BILL: smaller boys TIP and GEORGIE: little boys AUGUST and HEINY: little Polacks EDIE, JENNIE, FRANKIE, MYHA, ADDIE: big girls GERTIE, MINNIE: little girls TEACHER AUNT CATY and UNCLE DANIEL: early settlers SYT.VANUS, ALVARUS, SARAH, DELIA, JULIETTE, MELINDA: their sons and daughters HALE: Melinda's husband WINNIE and FLOY: their children A COUNTRY CHRONICLE MY father is leaning back in the old rocking- chair, reading Dombey and Son. He has the stand pulled out from under the looking-glass, with the lamp on it. His legs are stretched out so far that they go part way around the stove. The stove is black and shiny. My mother is al ways polishing it. It is round at both ends, and has a draft in front. My father's feet are on the bottom of the stove where the rim sticks out all around. Once when the stove got red-hot, his pants caught fire. He did n't find it out until we all noticed the smell. I am sitting with my feet on the stove by the draft, reading some of last week's Youth's Companion again. I wish my father would get through with Dombey and Son, so I could read it right along. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I always have to stop in the middle of something interesting when he comes in. I can hear my mother in the kitchen, washing the bowls and spoons in the sink. We have just had supper. We always have bread and milk Sunday nights. We have it right after they bring in the milking, when the milk is fresh and warm. I hear my brother come in from the barn and shut the woodshed door and sweep off his feet. He has been out to finish up the chores. He comes into the kitchen with the lantern and goes over to the cellar door, and gives the lantern a quick jerk to put it out. He hangs it up in the cellar way. I can see him from where I sit. My mother and my brother come in where we are. My mother sits down beside me, with her feet on the bottom of the stove near mine. She sits with her elbow in her hand, and the other hand on her cheek. She looks down at the draft. The fire is burning hard, and makes a noise. My brother stands lean ing in the door, with his hands in his pockets. . All at once my father puts the book down on his lap and sits up. He takes his spectacles off and holds them in both hands, looking at us. His elbows are on the arms of the chair. We all look at him to see what he is going to say. My father says : " I '11 tell you. S'posin' we all go over to Uncle Anthony's a while, and tell them about the dance." 4- A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My mother says : " All right ! I think it would be a real nice way to spend part of the evening." My brother does n't say any thing. My mother looks at him. She says : " I don't s'pose you want to go with us do you?" She laughs a little bit. I know she is making fun of him about Edie. My brother takes his hands out of his pockets, and picks up his hat off the chair by the wall. He smiles a little, and then looks at the floor. He says : " No, I kind o' thought I 'd go to church." I know he is getting red. My mother laughs again. My father gets up and sets the stand back under the looking-glass. He says : " Yes, he 's gettin' awful pious all of a sud den. Never misses Sunday night or prayer meetin'. I declare, it 's just wonderful the way that boy 's got religion ! " We all laugh except my brother. He keeps look ing at the floor. He sits down, and makes believe he does n't care, but I know he does. My mother says to me : " Come on, Bug, let 's get ready and go." My father takes his old grey felt hat off the top of the secretary and puts it on. It is almost the color of his hair and whiskers. My mother gets her A COUNTRY CHRONICLE black and red checked shawl out of the bedroom closet and throws it over her head. My father opens the front door. My mother says to my brother : " Well, don't stand at the gate too long after church. You know her ma don't like it very well." She says : *' And don't forget, when you go, to leave the key on the thermometer for us." We go down the path. There are big chunks of snow on both sides. My brother shoveled the path this morning, and I helped. He says I am big enough to shovel it all now, but my mother says it is too hard for such a little boy. Uncle Anthony's is almost straight across the road. We all say " Uncle Anthony " and " Aunt Phoebe " so much that I almost forget that they are n't really my uncle and aunt at all. My father and Uncle Anthony have shared tools ever since they settled here. We go around into the woodshed and knock at the kitchen door. We can hear Aunt Phoebe coming right away. Aunt Phoebe opens the door. She says : " Why, good evenin', good evenin' ! Come right in, won't ye? We're real glad to see ye, all of ye. Come in!" Uncle Anthony is sitting at the table by the stove, reading the newspaper. We can smell the kerosene lamp. 6 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Uncle Anthony puts the paper down, and looks up to see who it is. He looks over the top of his spec tacles. He says : " Oh, it 's you, is it, Hi ? Glad to see ye! Set down, set down, won't ye? An' take off your things." My father says : " Oh, we ain't goin' to stay long. We kind o' thought we 'd come over and let you know we was goin' to have a dance next Saturday night, and invite you." II We Invite Uncle Anthony and Aunt Phoebe to a Dance U on his upper lip. NCLE ANTHONY has grey hair and whiskers, and a big wart on his cheek. His whiskers are different from my father's. They don't be gin until where his cheeks and his chin come to an end. My father's are everywhere except He shaves that every Sunday. Uncle Anthony is ever so slow when he talks. My mother says he drawls. When he talks about his marsh he always calls it his " ma'sh." My mother laughs every time she thinks of it. Aunt Phoebe speaks short. The corners of her eyes and mouth are pointed. She is n't quite so round and plump as my mother, and she is a little bit older. My mother's hair is black, and her eyes are grey blue. Uncle Anthony has his old clay pipe in his mouth, but there is n't any smoke coming out. I know my father is glad of that, because he does n't like tobacco 8 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE smoke. My mother says the way he talks about it sounds just dreadful, and he must be careful and not talk that way when smokers are around. Uncle Anthony knows my father does n't like to bacco smoke. He takes his pipe out of his mouth, and holds it up toward my father. He laughs, and says : " You need n't to be afraid, Hi. 'T ain't loaded. It went out half an hour ago, and I been too shif'less to fill it up agin." My father laughs. Uncle Anthony puts the pipe back in his mouth. Part of the time he forgets, and sucks through it, and part of the time he breathes through his nose. It is so loud we all can hear it. Uncle Anthony says : " So you 're goin' to give another dance, are ye? Well, now, I think that'll be fine ! It was a good idee, your buildin' your house so 's they was that big room to dance in. We 've had a lot o' good times in that room." Uncle Anthony sucks through his pipe some more. He keeps looking at the stove. He says : " Of course Phoebe and me don't dance much, but then the boys '11 be over and I s'pose ye '11 have a euchre deck or two for us older folks. 'T ain't the way it was years ago, when we used to be dancin' somewheres or other every week." My father says : " No, it ain't. Sometimes I think I '11 never have another. But it 's a nice way for us all to keep acquainted, and I calculate to keep on havin' at least one a year." 9 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Uncle Anthony's house smells different from ours. It always makes me think of tobacco, but it smells of apples and cooked things, too. My mother says she supposes our house smells as different to them as theirs does to us. They have a big map on their wall. Right near it is the old musket Lennie had in the war. It has a sword bayonet. My brother and Syd borrowed it once, the time they had the dialogue about Norval and Glenalvon. They have a big clock like ours, only it has a picture in the door, instead of a looking- glass. Uncle Anthony leans over and opens the stove door. He pokes the fire, and then puts a chunk in. It begins to snap, and we can hear the blaze. Before long there is a little red spot on the side of the stove. It gets bigger, and Uncle Anthony shuts the draft. There is a little crackling sound in the stove and the pipe. My father and Uncle Anthony talk about York State, and early times, and raisings, and crops. Aunt Phoebe and my mother knit. They talk about calico, and preserves, and dances, and what the neighbors say and do. Aunt Phoebe says : " Ain't your boy gettin' kind o' thick with the widow's girl up there? Seems to me I see 'em go by together a good deal, and Milt says they 're awful thick at school." My mother laughs. She says : " Yes, I don't 10 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE know but they do act as if they thought quite a little of each other." Aunt Phoebe says : " Well, don't you think it 's pretty young for 'em to be goin' together so much? Of course he 's eighteen, and mebbe it 's all right for him, but then she can't be more 'n fourteen, can she? Milt says she ain't. I declare, it 's such a little while since they moved out from Town that / don't know 'em well enough to know how old she is." My mother says : " Oh, they 're all right ! Just let 'em alone, and they '11 get over it, same as most of 'em do. Or if they don't, why, they can wait a few years till she is old enough." We get up. Un cle Anthony comes with us as far as the woodshed door. He brings the lamp. We can see the woodpile just out side. Aunt Phoebe comes too. We start away. Uncle Anthony turns to go in again. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Aunt Phoebe says : " Davi'son, you know we ought to have a few sticks o' wood for breakfast." Uncle Anthony laughs a little. He answers, as slowly as can be : " Well, 'y gosh, ef you wimmin folks ain't always wantin' something and it 's mostly wood ! " Aunt Phoebe says : " 0' course, you can't get breakfast without wood. 'T ain't my fault." Uncle Anthony says : " Well, you need n't to be so 'f raid I '11 fergit it. I ain't never yit, have I ? " Aunt Phoebe laughs. She says : " Good reason why ! " She says : " No, I don't know as ye have. But I 'm always afraid ye will, and I don't intend ye shall." She says : " Come on, I '11 light your lan tern for ye." We cross the road and go through our front gate. My father says : " I declare, I don't see how she c'n stand it ! Never has more 'n enough cut for the next meal ahead." My mother says : " Nor I either. But then, they seem to get along all right, if they don't have wood ahead." My father always has a whole year's wood ahead, all split and piled. Every spring Tip helps me pile it. I never think about Tip's real name being Wil liam Henry Harrison. His father is the only one that calls him Harrison. Everybody else calls him just Tip. He says he gets awfully tired explaining about Tippecanoe. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Before we go in, we can hear Uncle Anthony's saw. It is as slow as it can be. It keeps sounding as if it were going to stop. We know it is an oak stick with lots of splinters, because it snorts so. We can see the light from his lantern. 13 Ill My Brother and Edie Go Home to Dinner Durmg Noon Recess, but I Play with the Boys MY brother and Edie start off together as soon as school is out. Edie has a blue woolen hood with a white bow tied under her chin. She has a blue dress on, and a blue cloak with red trimmings. Her hair is yellow. Everybody is always calling it golden, and we boys laugh about it. Syd and Steve and Milt always go home for din ner. They are big boys. Syd lives cornerways across from the schoolhouse. Steve lives about half way down the church hill. Tip and Georgie always go home, too. We never have much real fun till they get back. Georgie lives right near. Tip lives almost across from the church, next to Edie's. Our house is more than twice as far away. I don't go home to dinner, because I don't like to miss any fun. The big boys that are left sit down in the corner seats with their dinner pails. The little boys sit near them. The Polacks and the Dutch sit farther off, on the side-seat. They never have anything but bread with lard or syrup on it. My father says I 14. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ought to call them Germans, not Dutch, but almost everybody calls them Dutch. Jim says to Little Joe : " Want to trade dinners to-day ? " Little Joe is really a big boy, only we call him Little Joe because his father is Big Joe. They are English. Little Joe says : " Do you know w'at you got in yourn? Hif you don't know, I '11 trade with you. I don't know w'at 's in mine." Jim says : " No, I don't know, 'cross my heart ! " Little Joe says : " Hall right, give it 'ere, then ! 'Ere 's mine." They trade. They both take the covers off, and look in. They both say : " M-m-m-m ! I 'm glad I traded ! " Only Little Joe always says " Hi " in stead of " I." Little Joe says : " I like your bread and butter, Jim. I wisht we 'ad saltrisin' bread at our 'ouse." Jim says : " Oh, I like 'east bread better. I wish we could always have it, like you." Bill says : " You fellers ought to trade mothers. Then you 'd both have the kind o' bread you wanted. Watch me crack this here egg on my forehead." The egg makes a solid noise three or four times before we hear it crack. Bill draws the air in through his teeth, it hurt so. There is a red spot on his forehead. Bill begins to pick the shell off. He says : " All the reason you fellers like each other's bread is 'cause 15 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE you don't have it every day. If you had it right along, you 'd soon be wantin' the other kind." Frank says : " That 's just the reason. Grub al ways tastes better somewheres else." Frank is n't quite a big boy yet. He has great, big, white teeth, far apart. He knows how to lick his lips with his tongue so that it makes us all laugh. It makes us think of a sheep. Frank takes a piece of pie out of his pail. He claps the cover on, and gets up and puts the pail on the shelf. Frank's pie is apple pie. He holds it up in his right hand, and bites off the point. He chews two or three times, and then bites again. He puts his left hand in his pocket. Frank's coat is buttoned tight, so that he has to pull one corner up when he puts his hand in. He leans against the wood-box behind the stove, and eats. The wood-box has a slanting cover. When you lift the cover up, you can see that the wood-box goes right through the wall. You can see out into the entry. Frank's mouth is so full that we can see the pie tfhen he chews. There are little pieces of crust in the corners of his mouth, and on his coat. When he has all the apple part in, he chews a little while, and then swallows hard. Then he looks at the crust part that is left. He says : " I can't eat the rest of this. I 'm so full a'ready I could bust ! " 16 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Frank stands and holds the crust a while. He opens the stove door, and throws it in. Dan jumps up and says: *' Come on, le' 's go out and have a snowball ! " We all put our dinner pails on the shelf in the cor ner, and go out. We stop in the entry to get a drink. It takes quite a while, because there is only one dipper. It is thawing a little, and the snow packs. We begin to snowball. Dan and Frank are going to choose sides as soon as Tip and Georgie come back. We hear sleigh bells. Dan says : " Here comes a bob ! Come ahead, le' 's bounce her ! " We all run out to the road. The bob comes jing ling up. It is Lije's father. Frank says to Lije: " Dast we get on? Will he care ? " Lije says : " Naw, he won't mind ! " We all look up at Lije's father to see whether he will care. Then we jump on. We start up the east road toward Lije's house. When we go by Georgie's, he runs out yelling with his sled, and hitches on be hind. We ride a long way. We jump off and on when the horses trot. We go almost as far as Lije's. We hear bells ahead. Lije says: "Hear that? They 's a cutter comin'. We '11 get a ride back." John Malone is in the cutter. We yell : " Give us a ride ? " 17 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE John says : " On wid ye ! " He is smoking his old clay pipe upside down, the way he always does. We catch on to the sides and back. Some of us sit on the edge, and some of us stand on the runners. There is a good deal of snow, and sometimes it catches our feet and pushes them off. Georgie gets hitched on behind again. When we are near the schoolhouse, all of a sudden John whips up. We know what that means. He wants to sling us. We don't care. There is so much snow it won't hurt. We go flying down the road toward the church. We meet Tip just coming back from dinner, and he runs along and tries to get on. He just gets hold, but the cutter is going so fast it throws him in the snow. We all laugh and yell. Tip gets up all cov ered with white, and begins to brush off. All of a sudden John grabs my cap. The rest see him do it, and all jump off. They are afraid John will be after theirs, toe. Lije goes head over heels. We go whizzing past the church toward our house. I stop laughing. I say : " Aw, John, gimme my cap ! " John laughs. He says : " I 'm goin' to take ye clean past your house down to the depot." I begin to tease. We are away down the church hill now. I keep saying: "Come on, John, gimme my cap, will you ? I '11 be late for school. Come on ! John!" 18 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Pretty soon John says : " All right ! There comes another bob, and ye can tackle that to get back. Here ye are ! " John throws my cap away out in the snow. I jump off and wade out after it. I slap it on my leg, and put it on. It is a Scotch cap. All the boys have Scotch caps this year. The bob comes jingling on. It is Bradley's bob, and Uncle Riley is always good-natured. The Brad- leys live straight beyond the schoolhouse, a long way. There is a big tamarack swamp near there. Some of the trees have gum. I jump on. When we get to the schoolhouse, everybody comes running out. They all pile on, and we go jingling up past Syd's. 19 IV We Go After Frozen Apples WE go jingling along until we are almost past Syd's orchard. There is a picket fence for quite a way along the orchard, and then a rail fence. We never dare go over in there in summer time. They can see from the kitchen window if any one does. All of a sudden Tip yells : " Come on, le' 's get off and collar some o' them frozen apples ! " Tip jumps off, and then we all jump off. Over the fence we see a tree with apples on it. The snow looks level and deep all around. It has n't been broken through anywhere. We wade over toward the tree. The sky is clear and blue, and it makes the limbs and apples look black. When we get near, the apples begin to look brown, and the limbs grey. Once in a while there is a leaf. Tip says : " Gimme a boost, and I '11 shake some down ! " We take hold of Tip's legs, and boost him. He gives the upper part of the tree a good shake, and some apples come down. They make holes in the 20 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE snow. We grab them and wipe the snow off. We are just going to bite, but Tip shakes again, and some more come down. We jump to get them. Tip yells : " Mind you save some good ones for me ! You need n't think I 'm goin' to do this for nothin'." Bill says : " Aw, we '11 save you a hull lot. You need n't to worry." Tip shakes again. Only one or two apples come down. I get one of them. I wipe the snow off, and take a bite. Tip keeps on shaking. The apple is frozen hard. My teeth go in just a little way, and then slide along. They leave white and brown furrows on it. I try to taste what I have bitten off. It is n't very sweet, and it makes my teeth and tongue cold. There are a few apples in the top of the tree that won't let go. Tip begins to come down. He says : " No use ! They 're so far up yander I can't get at 'em. Maybe we can peg snowballs at 'em and fretch 'em down that way." Tip always says " fretch " and " yander." We divide up with Tip, and stand and eat a while. Then Tip says : " Watch me, now ! " He packs a snowball and lets fly. We all try to hit the apples that are left. We get one or two, and go. Our coat pockets are full. Bill and Georgie have their pants pockets full, too. When we are almost back to the schoolhouse cor- A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ner, Bill stops. He says : " Hoi' on, I got to get these here apples out o' my pocket ! They 're be- ginnin' to melt on me. I can feel 'em." Georgie stops, too. He says : " So can I mine." They begin to take the apples out of their pants pockets and stuff them into their coat pockets. Their coat pockets are so full already that it is all they can do to get any more in. Bill says : " Look a' here, will you? " We all look. Bill's pants have two wet spots on the leg. I say : " Anyhow, they won't be so hard to eat if they 're thawed a little like that. Mine are so ice cold they hurt my teeth like everything." Bill tries one of the wet apples. He says : " They 're hard inside, just the same as the rest." Georgie says : " I '11 tell you what le' 's do. Le' 's go in and thaw 'em out by the stove ! " Frank says: " That '11 be just the thing! Come- on ! " He says : " Le' 's see who '11 be first ! " He starts to run. We run as hard as we can to the schoolhouse. They all clear the way when they see us. All our feet strike the steps at almost the same time. It makes a big rumbling and stamping noise. We go piling in through the entry and in by the stove. Teacher is there. He looks at us and says : " Well, anyone 'd think a drove of colts was com- ing!" A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We put our apples on the nickel fender that runs around the stove half way up. We put some on top, too, but they begin to sizzle. The girls come and watch us. The apples begin to look wet and shiny. Pretty soon they drip. We begin to eat. The girls stand and look at us. Gertie turns up her nose. She says : " Ain't they just as stingy as they can be? " We laugh. Tip laughs, and smacks his lips. He says : " M-m-m-m ! Ain't they good, though ? " Gertie says to the girls : " Come on away ! Let 'em keep their old apples! We don't want any of 'em." We all laugh again. The little Polacks and Ger mans come and beg for some. When August and Heiny get theirs, they go over to where Gertie is, and say : " M-m-m-m ! don't you vish you hat some, hey ? M-m-m-m ! " Gertie takes August by the shoulder and whirls him around. She gives him a push back toward us. She says : " Get out with you, you little Dutch man!" By and by we give the girls some apples. At first they say they won't take them, but they change their minds. The outsides are juicy and sweet, but the insides stay hard. Our fingers get all sweet and sticky. The bell is going to ring soon. We run out and wash our hands in snow. We leave some of the ap- 23 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE pies on the fender when we go to our seats. We get them together in little groups. Lije is afraid some one will get his, so he writes his name on a piece of paper and puts it on them. He keeps looking around to see if they are there. It begins to smell of apples all over the room. At recess the apples are soft all the way through. We eat some of them, and bite holes in some and suck the juice. It makes us think of cider, only it is n't so good. Charley Binzel grabs Heiny and stuffs an apple core down his neck. Charley is one of the saloon keeper's boys, and he is always picking on the little Polacks. Heiny begins to cry. August says to Charley : " Aw, come on now, quit ut, you big old fool you ! You vould n't dast to take somevone of your own size." August is Heiny's brother, but he is only a little bit bigger. Heiny has n't been to school very long. Charley says : " I would n't, hey ? Well, you just give me a little more lip, and I '11 put one down your neck ! " Charley is going to spin August around by the neck, but Gertie goes up to him and pushes him away. She says : " You just let him alone, will you, you old beer-barrel ! " That makes Charley mad, but he does n't dare A COUNTRY CHRONICLE touch Gertie. He knows the big boy won't let him. Syd and Steve are standing by the stove with Jen nie and Frankie. They are always together. At recess the big boys and girls hardly ever go outside. My brother is sitting with Edie in her seat. He is showing her how to do examples. Syd and Steve look at my brother and Edie, and then at each other. Then they laugh. Jennie and Frankie laugh, too. Syd puts his hand over his mouth, and looks up at the ceiling. He says : " A-hem-m-m ! " Steve does it, too. Then they all look at my brother and Edie and laugh. Steve laughs through his nose, with his mouth shut. He makes a snorting kind of noise. My father calls it smudging. My brother does n't look up, but he moves a little, and looks bashful. Edie's face gets red. 25 Mr. White and Grandpa Tyler Talk Politics at the Store MY father pushes his chair back from the supper table. He says to my mother : " Le' 's see, didn't you say you wanted the clothes brought in? I s'pose they 're dry by this time, ain't they? " My mother says : " Well, I should hope so ! They 've been out since half past six this morning." My mother always washes Monday morning. My father gets up early to help her, and my brother has to get up early and do the chores alone. This morn ing he had to shovel a path along the clothesline. My mother has the clothes out before breakfast every time. The neighbors say they would n't know what to make of it if there was a Monday morning without her clothes out on the line by half past six. My father comes in with the basket heaping full. He sets it on the kitchen table. My mother says she '11 sprinkle them the last thing before going to bed. My father says : " Well, I guess I '11 go down to the store and get the mail. I should n't wonder if 26 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I 'd have a chance to give a few more invitations, too." I say to my father : " Can I go too ? " My father says : " Yes, I s'pose so, if your ma '11 let you. Maybe you '11 get your Companion, too. I s'pose it was the storm Saturday that made it late." I get my Scotch cap and my comforter and mit tens. I tie the comforter around my neck, and but ton the ends under my coat. The comforter is blue and white, with a couple of red streaks, and the ends are fringed. They stick out from under the bottom of my coat. We go past Uncle Anthony's and down the road. Then we go past Mr. White's and Johnnie's and come to where the depot hill begins. Down at the bottom of the depot hill we can see the depot lights. There are two or three red lights. Those are the switches. We can see the light from the store windows shining on the snow in the road. The saloons just the other side of the store have all their windows lighted. My father says : " You see, the saloons are al ways sure to have nice, bright lights." Pretty soon he says : ** You must never go into a saloon, or have anything to do with 'em. It don't pay." I look across to where Bill Doran lives. I say: " I 'd hate to be Barney or Jake." I think of the fight I saw them have in the road 27 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE once between the two saloons, when they had the dance at Weber's. They tore each other's shirts off, and were all scratched and bloody. My father says : " Well, I guess you would n't ! " Over beyond the depot we can see a light on the hill where Grandpa Tyler lives. It looks all dark away up beyond his house. The north burying ground is up there. That is the highest place of all. My father says : " I wonder if Tyler and some of 'em won't be down to-night. I hope so." We cross the tracks, and go up the store steps. My father opens the door, and we go in. Mr. White is standing at the opening in the coun ter, opposite the stove. He is a little man, and always chewing tobacco. Grandpa Tyler is sitting on the soap box behind the stove, with his back against the wall. Gottlieb is on another box. His is a cracker box. They all say good evening to my father. My father says : " Good evenin', White ! Evenin', Ty ! Evenin', Godlip!" Lots of people say Godlip in stead of Gottlieb. He is the blacksmith. Mr. White goes around to the mail case. It stands on the counter by the front window, and the back of it is toward us. It is all full of places with letters over them. It is the case my father made, a long time ago, when he was station agent, and post master, and storekeeper, and the place was just settled. 28 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Mr. White says : " I s'pose you want your mail, don't you ? " He takes everything out of the box that has our letter over it, and begins to look it over. He says to me : " Here 's your Companion that you did n't get Saturday." He says to my father : " And here 's your old Patriot and I hope it '11 do ye lots o' good ! " Grandpa Tyler winks at my father. He says to Mr. White : "Ephram, what 's the matter with the Patriot, I 'd like to know? Ain't it jest chuck full o' good, sound, republican gospel? It's better 'n any o' your old democrat papers, anyhow." Mr. White's cheeks and upper lip are smooth, but he has long grey whiskers. He has little, bright eyes. He always makes me think of the pictures of Uncle Sam, only he is n't tall enough. There is a box full of ashes where Gottlieb is sit ting. Mr. White walks over to it every little while, and spits. He chews fine cut. He says : " Well, all I c'n say is, if I liked a paper like that one the way you fellows do, I 'd never own up to it. I would n't be found dead with one of 'em in my house ! " My father looks at Grandpa Tyler. Grandpa Tyler winks again. He says : " Ain't it awful, the way the ol' cuss takes on ? " Grandpa Tyler keeps running his hands down over his long, white whiskers. My father says he is proud of his whiskers. But he says "he would n't have 'em 29 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE long like that. He says they are always catching dust and chaff, and getting yellow. Pretty soon Grandpa Tyler says : " By godfrey, Hi, I 'd hate awful to be a democrat would n't you ? " My father says : " Yes, specially since there 's goin' to be another 'lection this fall. There '11 be four years more o' misery for 'em, and no help for it!" Grandpa Tyler says : " Serves 'em right for be- longin' to sech a party, 's what I say ! " Mr. White lifts up one hand. He always does that way when he is going to start in on politics. He says: " You c'n save your pity for yourselves, after next November ! " He steps out into the middle of the floor. Grandpa Tyler winks at my father and Gottlieb. Mr. White begins again. He says : " No sir, you need n't pity no democrat ! I tell ye, they 're the salt o' the earth! The democrat party is the only party that has ever had a principle, or that has a principle to-day. It 's the only party that has been kep' alive by principle since the days of Thomas Jefferson. The democrat party has buried every party that has rose against it so far, and, by god frey, next November it '11 bury your old republican party ! It '11 bury it so deep 't none o' you fellers '11 ever " Grandpa Tyler breaks in on him. He says : 30 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE " Oh, come, come, come, Eph ! Anybody might think you was meanin' what you said ! " Mr. White says : " Well you c'n bet your bottom dollar I do mean it, every word of it ! And what 's more, next November, the first Tuesday after the first Monday, you '11 find out it 's all gospel truth ! " Mr. White leans over the ash box and spits again. He says : " I can feel it, I can feel it in my bones ! They 's a-goin' to be such a wakin' up o' the dead an' such a rattlin' o' dry bones as you never heard of in all your born days, you just mark my words ! " 31 VI My Father Talks with Old Neighbors, and, Asks Them to the Dance THE door opens. We all look to see who is com ing in. Mr. White stops talking. He says : " Hello, 'nother country heard from ! " Old Shed Williams comes in. He has a knotty old cane. His cap is pulled down over his ears, and he has a big comforter around his neck. He takes his mittens off. His hands and face are awfully hairy. His real name is Sheridan, and he lives up the marsh road near the river. We all know he '11 begin to say " don't y' know." Mr. White says : " Well, well, who 'd a thought you 'd get down here this cold night? Does your mother know you 're out? I sh'd think your folks 'd worry about you." Old Shed says : " Oh, go 'long with ye, don't y' know, 't ain't so awful cold, don't y' know. I thought I 'd come down, don't y' know, an' get my paper an' see if they was n't somethin' goin' on, don't y' know." He goes over to the stove. He says : " But don't y' know I thought I heard ye talkin', Ephram, don't A COUNTRY CHRONICLE y' know. Politics, I s'pose. That 's about all ye know to talk about. I declare, I never see such a man for politics, don't y' know ! " Old Shed's voice is thin, and he is almost as slow as Uncle Anthony. Grandpa Tyler says : " You know what, Shed ? He 's jest been tellin' us they 's goin' to be a democrat president next time." Old Shed says: "Well, don't y' know, all I can say, don't y' know, is 't I 'm awful sorry for him. He '11 get terrible fooled, don't y' know ! " Mr. White goes over to the ash box again. He stops in the middle of the floor, and waves his hand. His voice sounds as if he were making a speech in front of a whole lot of people. He says : " Not a bit of it this time ! This time we 're a-goin' to fix ye up for good and all ! You '11 be callin' on the sun, moon, an' stars not to shine, an' for the rocks to fall on ye and hide ye ! " Mr. White waves his hand again. He puts the thumb of his other hand in the arm hole of his vest, and begins to walk up and down in front of old Shed. He says: "It's a-comin', I tell ye, I c'n feel it! We '11 show you whether they 's a god in Israel or not ! Why, you won't be down after the mail again after 'lection for six weeks, you '11 be feelin' so shamed o' yourselves for votin' the republican ticket!" Old Shed says : " Oh, come on here an' get me my 33 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE mail, don't y' know, an' stop talkin' such nonsense! That 's the way you been talkin', don't y' know, be fore every 'lection since the war." My father says : " Yes, Eph, go and get his mail for him, and maybe by that time you '11 cool off again." Mr. White tosses out the Patriot, and comes and stands in the opening of the counter again. Gottlieb gets up to go. Mr. White says : " There, there, Godlip, don't go off mad that way ! " We all know he is going to joke Gottlieb. He is always doing that. Gottlieb never understands. Gottlieb stops and turns around. He looks puz zled. He says: "Who tolt you I vos mat, hey? I ain't needer mat ! You must been mat yourselluf ! " Mr. White says : " Well then, all right, never mind ! I kind o' thought your back looked that way, that 's all." Gottlieb says : " Yes, dot 's anodder of your fool ish Yankee chokes. I know vot ut iss. You don't need to tink you can fool me already ! " Mr. White says : " Keep cool, Godlip, keep cool, keep cool ! Never allow that temper of yours to get the upper hand of ye." Gottlieb looks sulky. He says : " I don't haf to keep cool, now, you know ut? I 'm chust as cool as v'at you are, uf you vant to know ut ! " Mr. White says: "Now just look at him, how mad he gets, will you? You can't say the least little 34 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE word to him but he flares up just like that. I tell you he 's awful dangerous, specially when irritated with a long pole." Gottlieb tries to laugh, but he looks sulkier than ever. He says : " You shut up your Yankee mout' ! You don't know so wery much, ennahow ! " Gottlieb opens the door and starts to go. Mr. White calls after him : " Now, Godlip, go home and give your feet a good soakin' the last thing before you go to bed. It '11 draw the blood down out o' your head." Gottlieb bangs the door. Grandpa Tyler says: " Eph, ain't ye kind o' hard on Godlip? You ort n't to make such fun of him. He don't know how to take it." Mr. White says : " Oh, Tie knows it 's all in fun ! He '11 be all right next time he comes in ! " He takes out his tobacco box, and gets ready to take another chew. Old Shed says : " Slammed the door, don't y' know, 's if he was real mad, did n't he? " Mr. White says : " Oh, he does that lots o' times. He '11 be all right by to-morrow night." He steps over to the ash box, and leans over and lets the old chew fall. Then he begins to get another out of the tobacco box. It takes him quite a while, because fine cut hangs together. The tobacco box is smooth and shiny. He puts it back in his pants pocket. 35 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : *' I was hopin' I 'd see some of you down here to-night. I want to invite you and your women folks to our house to a dance next Sat urday night. It 's been most a year now since we had one." Grandpa Tyler says : " You don't say ! By godfrey, don't it beat everything the way he keeps it up? Here he is, over sixty, and dancin' yet ! I 'd like to know what he thinks '11 happen to him after he dies." They laugh at my father. Old Shed says : " Yes, an' invitin' of us old fellers, too, don't y' know. It '11 be a great dance, don't y' know, if he depends on us to do the dancin'." My father says : " 0' course, I know the younger folks '11 do most of the dancin', but I want you old folks to be there too. We can play cards and look on, and have just as much fun as the rest." Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, you can depend on me yit, by godfrey, when it comes to a party where they 's a hand o' cards. We '11 be there, fast enough." Grandpa Tyler strokes his whiskers. He says: " Hi, I 'm glad ye keep it up, even if 't ain't but once a year." Mr. White says : " It 's been a mighty good thing for us all. You can count on us, too, but o' course I can't come till I 've locked up." My father says : " Of course. But that won't 36 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE matter. You '11 be in plenty of time." He starts toward the door. I follow him. My father stops with his hand on the door latch. He turns and says : " All right, then, we '11 be ex- pectin' you." We go up the hill. My father says : " Now I '11 send word by Speckle to some more to-morrow, and we '11 soon have 'em all invited." My father and mother often call my brother Speckle. That 's because he has freckles. They hardly ever call him by his real name. I call him Ted sometimes, but not even that is his real name. When we get home, I go right out to where my mother is. She is sprinkling the clothes on the kitchen table. The folks that visit us from Town always say " dining-room," instead of " kitchen." We laugh about it when they are gone. My mother puts her hand in the basin of water, and then shakes it over the clothes. Then she rolls the clothes up tight and puts them back in the basket. She is going to iron to-morrow morning. She always irons Tuesday morning. My mother says : " I see your Companion 's come, so I s'pose you feel better." I sit down and begin to read the continued story on the front page. My mother says : " As soon as you get to a good stopping place you must go to bed. It 's almost nine 37 55310 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE now. By the time you 've got it finished I '11 be ready to put the light on the stairs for you." I read a while. It is about a boy and a girl skat ing, and the girl breaks through and has to be rescued. I say: " Where 's Ted ?" My mother says : " Well, the last / saw of him, he was starting up the road. Maybe you can guess where he is." I say : " Oh, he 's always going up to Edie's, ain't he?" I kiss my mother good night, and then go in and kiss my father. My father is sitting by the stove again, with his legs stretched out, reading Dombey and Son. I run up stairs past the lamp, and get into bed. Pretty soon I begin to feel like going to sleep. I hear my mother come to the stair door and reach for the lamp. Then it gets dark. 38 VII Everybody Comes, and Johnnie Forms On MY mother says : " Gracious me ! don't he look all dressed up, though ? " We all look at my father. He has his broadcloth coat on, and his velvet vest and fine boots. He has his whiskers trimmed, and his hair slicked. He al ways tells us he has had that coat and vest fourteen years. The vest has little flowers on it. My mother has her best dress on, too. She has a ruche around her neck, and her gold watch-chain is around her shoulders and hanging down in front. Her ear-rings have little black stones set in the borders. She has the big cameo on. The cameo has a white house in a yard, and a girl walking there. My brother and I are dressed up, too, only my brother has overalls on. He has to take care of the teams. We have the lamps all lighted, and a good, hot fire. The parlor is all lighted up and warm, too. The stair door is open, so the heat will go up there. They are going to dance up in the big room. The kitchen table is pulled out, with the leaves up. My brother is sitting by the south window, holding the lantern between his knees. He has just put his cap and mittens on. 39 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We hear sleigh bells up the road. My father says : " They 're beginning to come ! " My brother gets up and goes out to the woodshed door. The sleigh bells come jingling along until we know they are almost in front of the house. Then they are n't so loud. Pretty soon we hear them right near the house. The runners make a sort of hard, grind ing sound. They always sound that way when it is cold. The sleigh bumps against the plank out by the door. We hear somebody say : " Who-o-oa ! Here we are ! Pile out ! " 40 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE They come stamping in, saying good evening, and laughing, and shaking hands. They begin to take off their overshoes and overcoats and comfort ers, and to pile them on the chairs next to the wall. The women put some packages done up in newspapers on the table. I know what is in the packages. It is frosted cake, and pie, and things like that. I hope I can stay up long enough to have some, but if I don't I know my mother will save some out for me. They all go into the front room. Then more peo ple come. Some come afoot. Grandpa Tyler and Mrs. Tyler and Johnnie come together from down the road. Johnnie is day operator. Mrs. Tyler is a little woman. My mother helps Mrs. Tyler take off her cloak and things. She says : " Well, where are you, any way, Mrs. Tyler? You 're so little I can hardly find you among all your wraps." Mrs. Tyler laughs. She has a thin little voice. She says : " Well, you know precious stuff is gen'lly put up in small packages." I think of what my father said one day. He said : " She 's little, but O my!" Mr. and Mrs. Purdy come from the other way, and pretty soon Uncle Anthony and Aunt Phoebe and Milt. Syd and Steve will be along with Jennie and Frankie after a while. Mr. Purdy says: "Hi, jest let me step outside 41 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE afore I set down. I got to git red o' this here chaw o' terbacker, or I won't be comf table." My father laughs. He says : " I s'pose it '11 be kind o' hard on some of you, goin' without tobacco a whole evenin', but you ought to be able to stan' it for just once." Mr. Purdy says : " Oh, I guess we can manage to git along." Mrs. Purdy says : " 'T would be a good thing for ye if ye had to do it oftener, / think." The sitting room and the parlor are almost full now. Grandpa Tyler pulls out his watch. He says : " Well, Hi, where 's them there fiddlers o' yourn ? Ain't it 'bout time they was turnin' up? " My father says : " I don't know but 't is time for 'em." We hear a great jingling of bells. Johnnie says: " I bet that 's them ! " He runs to the door. He says : " Yah, here they come, sure 's you 're alive ! " We hear them stamping and taking off their things. Then we hear the bells again, and I know my brother is taking the horses off to the barn. The fiddlers come in. Addie is with them. One of the fiddlers is her father. The other is a sort of cousin. They have their fiddle boxes in their hands. Their cheeks are red, and Lon has icicles on his moustache. They begin to warm their hands at the stove. 42 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Grandpa Tyler says : " Hey, Lon, what ye got in that there box? A baby? " Everybody laughs. Someone always says that when there is a dance, and they always laugh. Lon plays first fiddle, and old Ledley plays sec ond. They always play together at dances. Lon is younger. He can call off while he plays. His voice has a twang in it that some of them make fun of. 15* Mr. Ledley is English. He has a big, round face, and grey hair. His face is shaved, but he has whis kers all around the edge. They make me think of fringe. They all talk and laugh. Lon and old Ledley keep rubbing their hands together. 43 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, 'Lonzo, ain't it about time to tune up? Seems to me them fingers o' yourn ort to be limbered up by this time, ort n't they?" Lon says : " Jes' 's you folks say ! Maybe 't is time." He says to Mr. Ledley : " All right, Ledley, s'posen' we go up." They start up stairs. We can hear them in the big room, tuning up. They pick the strings, and we can hear the pegs snap when they screw them up. Then we hear a lot of broad strokes on the two big strings, and a lot of little notes up and down on the little strings. They are getting their fingers used to it. Lon calls out : " All right, Johnnie, form on ! " Johnnie jumps up. He says good and loud, so everybody can hear: " Choo-ose you-u-ur pardners for a quadrille ! " Syd and Steve and the girls go right up. Johnnie goes up, too, and some others. Pretty soon we hear him call again : " Fo-our more couples wanted ! Form on ! " They are going to have two sets. A few more go up, and then Johnnie calls : " 0-one more couple wanted ! " I run up stairs. I want to see them begin. They are waiting for the one more couple. My mother says to my brother : " Come on, old Speckle, let 's you and I help 'em out. You can take me for 44 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Her mother is a your girl to-night, seeing you can't do any better." My brother gets up and stands with my mother. His face gets red. Of course Edie is n't here, churchmember and does n't be lieve in dancing, even if she liked to have Edie go with my brother. I sit on one of the benches. They are on both sides, along the wall. If I stand up on one of them, my head comes up to where the ceiling begins to slant. My father says when he built our house he had the big room made on purpose for dances. There is a big white desk in one corner. The sit ting room stovepipe runs up through the other end. We keep the popcorn and beans in the corner there. The windows are just over the veranda roof. VIII My Mother and Father Take Part m the Old Dances LON and old Ledley sit in the corner by the desk. Old Ledley is behind it. They tune up a little more, and then they stop and wait. Then Lon raps the back of his fiddle with the bow, and calls out : " Pla-a-a-ces all ! " Everybody stands ready. Lon calls: " A-a-all dance ! " He begins The Campbells Are Coming. Every body begins to tread up and down. Pretty soon Lon calls : " Sa- a-lu-u-ute you-u-ur pardners ! " Everybody bows. The partners bow to each other, and then to the rest. The dancing up and down and the saluting are only 46 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE to begin with. Then Lon calls : " Head lady and foot gent, forward a-a-and back ! " and things like that. They all look good-natured and happy. Their ej r es sparkle. They do a lot of different calls. I don't see how Lon can remember them all. There is " right-hand-'round," and " left-hand-'round," and " lady-in-the-center-and-three-hands-'round," and " do-cee-do," and " al-a-mend-left," and " grand- right-and-left," and " a-all sasha-a-ay," artd " prom enade-all," and " swing-your-pardners," and " cheat." I keep wondering how they can do it all without getting mixed up. Sometimes they do get mixed up. The sound of the music and the treading of their feet make me feel warm and happy. I wish I could dance, too. Everybody is laughing or smiling. They like Lon's tunes and his calling off. Every time they get through with a figure, they stand still a minute. They look at each other, and talk and laugh. Steve and Syd make lots of fun joking the girls, and joking my brother about Edie. Then Lon begins a new tune. Sometimes he says " Ba-al-ance all," instead of " A-a-all dance," but it means the same thing. When they are through with the last figure, Lon calls out : " Se-eat you-u-ur pardners ! " Then everybody sits down on the benches. My mother is on the opposite side of the room. I 47 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE want to go over there, but I am afraid, because I think everybody will look at me. My mother is al ways telling me I am too bashful. My mother makes a sign to me to come and sit down by her. I put my hands on the bench and lean back. I twist my toes together, and shake my head. But after a while I get up and walk across. I keep looking at the floor while I go. I don't dare look up. The floor seems to rise up almost to my face, and my cheeks feel warm. It is a long way across. Everyone is talking, but I am afraid they will all stop and look at me. My mother says : " Well, are you going to be my partner after a while ? " 48 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I say : " I do' want to." I don't know how I could ever get up and dance in front of everybody. My mother says : " Oh, yes, you 'd better ! They won't mind if you make a mistake. I '11 tell you what to do." But I sit back and say : " No, I do' want to." My mother says : " All right, if you don't feel like it. I s'pose after all you 're pretty small to dance yet." Johnnie gets up and calls out : " Choo-ose your partners for a waltz ! " Lon strikes up The Missis sippi. When they got through, they form on for Opera Reel. Lon's boy and girl get mixed up. Lon gets all out of patience. He always does when they make mis takes. He breaks off playing, and raps the back of the fiddle with his bow so hard and so quick that everybody jumps and looks scared. Lon looks as cross as can be. He snaps out: " Jack ! Myrie ! What the thunder you doin', any how? Confound it all, that ain't no way to dance! " Jack does n't like it. He sticks his lips out, and grumbles. He says : " Well, we 're doin' it just the way you called off. What you talkin' about ? " Lon says : " No you ain't neither, not by a long shot ! " He gets up and takes Jack by the arm. He says : " Come over here where you belong ! " He talks louder and crosser than ever. He says : " Now, next time pay 'tention to what I call off ! " 49 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Lon goes on with the tune and the calling off. He is playing The Wrecker s Daughter. Old Mr. Led- ley calls it The Wreckard's Daughter. Lon plays Saint Patrick's Day next, and then Fisher's Hornpipe for the last figure. I know almost all of Lon's tunes by heart. There is Sol dier's Joy, and The Devil's Dream, and Washing Day, and Flowers of Edinburgh, and Captain Jinks, and Irish Washerwoman, and a lot of others. My father and my brother can play Lon's tunes on the fiddle, too. I am so used to them that when I am going anywhere alone I whistle and hum them, and keep step. When my brother is turning the fanning mill, or churning, or when the old mares are trotting along to Town, I can always hear Lon's tunes. A good many of them have n't names. By and by they stop again. But it is n't very long before Johnnie calls out : " A-a-all form on for Virginia Reel! " They always dance that, and Money Musk, and Irish Trot, and almost always The Fireman's Dance. They all have fine, lively tunes, and everybody has lots of fun. I like to watch them better than any of the other dances. My father likes Virginia Reel better than anybody else. He has so much fun that he forgets everything except the dancing. He dances up and down so that his coat tails flap. People get to looking at him, but he does n't care. My mother laughs. She leans 50 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE over me, and says : " Just look at your pa ! Is n't he having a fine time? See how his eyes pop out ! " My mother likes Irish Trot the best. I can tell by her face that she thinks it is lots of fun. But she does n't laugh out loud and carry on, like the rest. She smiles and sort of hops along, and takes little steps in between. Addie sits beside me while they dance Irish Trot. She says : " Your mother's old-fashioned way of dancing is just as pretty as it can be. I wish I could dance as nice as that ! " 51 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE All of a sudden Lon raps his fiddle again, and be gins to scold Jack some more. Addie says : " Now, Alonzo, you ought to have more patience with the boy." Lon says : " Patience ! Well, 'y gosh ! " They all laugh. Addie laughs, too. It sounds queer to hear anyone call Lon Alonzo. Lon goes and sits down again. He calls out : " Pla-a-ces all ! " He says : " We '11 try it once more now, and see ! " IX / Watch the Dancing, but Can't Keep Awake Till Supper I RUN down stairs again. I go down every little while. This time the clock says half past eleven. Grandpa Tyler and Uncle Anthony and Mrs. Purdy and Aunt Phoebe are playing euchre. I go and stand behind Uncle Anthony. Mr. White and old Shed and Mr. Purdy and Grandma Tyler are at another table. Mrs. White and some others are looking on. Uncle Anthony says : " Well, shall we have another game? " Grandpa Tyler says : " Might 's well. It '11 be quite a while yet before they have supper." Aunt Phcebe says to me : " What be they dancin' now?" I say: "Money Musk. They just finished Irish Trot." Uncle Anthony says : " Well, Ty, we 've danced them old dances a good many times in our day, hain't we?" Grandpa Tyler says: "Well, I guess we hev! 53 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE An' I declare, I 'd like to dance 'em some more, but somehow my rheumatiz is too much for me. You don't feel a powerful lot like dancin' when yer knees is a hollerin' out the way mine does." Mrs. Purdy says : " Folks don't dance as much as what they used to when the country was first settled. When we first come, back in the early forties, they used to be a dance somewheres every Sat'day night, jest as sure as Sat'day night come 'round." Aunt Phoebe says : " Yes, and they wa'n't so many people then, neither. Don't you remember how they used to come from miles and miles around? Seems 's if the more people they is, the less sociable they git." Mrs. Purdy lays the cards down in front of Uncle Anthony. She says : " Want to cut 'em ? " Uncle Anthony says : " Oh, go on an' deal ! I don't b'lieve ye could stack 'em if ye tried." Mrs. Purdy laughs. She says : " Don't ye be too sure o' that! Maybe I know more about the game 'n what you think." Mrs. Purdy deals the cards around. Uncle Anthony says : " No-o, times ain't what they was, not by a good deal. One thing is, they 's gittin' to be so many foreigners." Grandpa Tyler says : " By godfrey, don't it beat all, the way they 're a-comin' in an' buyin' everybody out ? I declare I don't see what the country 's a-comin' to. They 's gittin' to be so many Dutch 54 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE around 't ye can't sleep nights fer hearin' the wooden shoes clatter." They laugh. Uncle Anthony does n't get to laugh ing until the rest are almost through. It kind of spreads over his face a little at a time. You can see it first in his eyes. All of a sudden Grandpa Tyler leans forward and says : " Hoi' on there ! What 's trumps ? Wa'n't that my trick there? " Aunt Phoebe says : " Why, o' course 't is, and you better take it in. Goodness knows, we need all we c'n git." I sit down and watch them a while longer. My brother comes in and stands looking on. Aunt Phoebe looks up, and says : " Some ways or other you look sort o' lonesome this evenin'. What 's the matter of ye? " My brother gets red- He tries to smile. He knows she is thinking about Edie. As soon as Aunt Phoebe begins to play again, he goes away. I begin to feel sleepy. I run up stairs again. They are all sitting on the benches, resting and talking. I go in as quickly as I can and sit down by my mother. My mother looks down at me. She says: "Are you beginning to get sleepy? Don't you think you 'd better go to bed? " I say : " No, I do' want to. I want to stay up till supper." My mother says : " Well, if you really want to, 55 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE you can. 'T ain't very often they come here. But I 'm awfully afraid you '11 get sleepy." I know how it will be when supper comes. Addie and my mother and Mrs. Purdy will put the coffee on, and then they '11 unwrap all the packages. There will be biscuit and butter, and chicken, and sliced ham, and pickles, and fried cakes, and pie, and three or four kinds of big, white, frosted cake. They will get out a lot of plates and cups, and pour out the coffee. Then they will all eat and say things to make each other laugh. 56 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I sit and watch them dance. They are dancing Opera Reel now. It takes them quite a while. The treading and the music make me feel quiet. I feel as if I 'd like to lie down. My head begins to feel heavy, and my eyes want to shut. I sit up straight, and open them as wide as I can. It is n't very long before my eyes want to shut again. All the feet and legs and skirts and arms begin to look blurred every little while. My head almost falls. I bring it up with a jerk. I sit straight up again and again. I wish they would get supper right away. I get so sleepy I forget about everything ex cept trying to keep awake. I forget even about supper. I think of bed, and how nice it would be to lie down. I think of it again, and get up and go out and across to my bedroom, take my clothes off, and get in. I leave my clothes right where they come off. Getting into bed wakes me up a little. I hear them finish Opera Reel. They talk a while, and then Lon begins a quadrille tune. The tune is one my father plays on his fiddle. He says the name of it is My Love She '* but a Lassie Yet. It goes " Tum-a f?-tum-tum-tum tum-tum- tum, tum-a fwm-tum-tum-tum turn- turn-turn ." It is the tune the straw-carrier always makes me think of when they are threshing. Every time I hear it I think of threshing, and the straw-carrier sticking 57 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE out of the barn door, and the dust, and Uncle Anthony standing there all covered with chaff. The tune stops. By and by I hear Lon call out: " Ba-al-ance all ! " The fiddles and the treading be gin again. This time it is one of the tunes without a name. My father can play it on the old fife. It always says : " O give-me-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay. . . . O give-me-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay. . . . O give-me-a dol- lar-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay." Lon plays the tune over and over. It makes me think of my father, and the way he dances. It makes me think of the way he plays the fife. It always stretches his lip, and makes it look smooth and shiny. The tune makes me think of my mother, too, and the way she dances. I like to have Addie say she wishes she could dance as nice as my mother. It makes me think of Lon and old Ledley. It is nice to listen to. I almost forget about the supper. I don't care. My mother will save me some of the biscuit and frosted cake and things. It is nice to be in bed. The tune keeps on, over and over again. It always says the same thing: "O give-me-a dol-lar-a da- a-ay. . . . O give-me-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay. . . . O give-me-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a dol-lar-a dol- lar-a da-a-ay ." It is so plain it is almost like talking : " O give-me-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay . . . O give-me-a dol-lar-a da-a-ay. . . . O give-me-a give- me-a . . . dol-lar-a . . . give-me-a . . . dol-lar-a " 58 Jack Washington and Colonel Stanislawski Give Temperance Lectures THE church won't hold any more. There are people from everywhere. My brother and Edie and some of the other big boys and girls are in the choir. They are all ready to begin as soon as the minister and the lecturers come. We hear the door open, and someone come in. We look around. The minister and Jack come around the end of the board screen in front of the door, and then Colonel Stanislawski. They go up the aisle to the pulpit, and take their coats off. The minister kneels down behind the pulpit a minute, and then gets up and says : " Brothers and sisters, we '11 begin our service this evening by singing number two hundred and eighty-six two hundred and eighty-six: 'Yield not to Temptation. 5 ' He reads the first verse : " Yield not to temptation, For yielding is sin, Each victory will help you Some other to win. 59 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Fight manfully onward, Darkr passions subdue, Look ever to Jesus, He '11 carry you through." He says again, the way he always does : " Num ber two hundred and eighty-six. The first and last verses." When we get through with the first verse, the minis ter calls out: "Now everybody join in on the chorus ! " We all sing harder than ever. The chorus says : " Ask the Savior to help you, Comfort, strengthen, and keep you, He is willing to aid you, He will carry you through." After the singing, the minister reads where it says : " Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging : and who soever is deceived thereby is not wise." He reads in another place where it tells about putting the bottle to your neighbor's lips. We know he is thinking about the saloonkeepers. The minister shuts up the Bible, and says : " Let us pray ! " He gets down on one knee. A lot of people all over the church get down on both knees. They have to turn around to do it. Little Joe's father gets right out in the aisle. My father sits the same way he always does. My mother just puts her hand over her eyes. Little Joe's father keeps saying : " A-a-ah-men ! 60 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE A-a-ah-men ! " He says it faster and louder every time. He says the " men " part quick and sharp. Tip turns around and looks at me. I am always afraid I '11 have to snicker when Little Joe's father gets to going the way he does. There are some others that say *' Amen " a good deal, too. And they say " Yes, Lord ! " and " Oh, Lord ! " and " Lord, answer prayer ! " The faster and louder the minister prays, the more they all do it. We can hear them all over the church. After the prayer, the minister says : " Brothers and sisters, I am not going to preach to you, even if it is the Sabbath night. Anything that 'elps tem perance 'elps religion. Brother Washington and Brother Stanislawski 'ave been lecturing to you the past four nights, and to-night by the grace of God we want them to crown the work so 'appily begun through the week. We '11 'ear first from Brother Washington." The minister is English. All the Bible Christian ministers are English. We have fun trying to talk their way. The minister sits down. Jack Washington gets up and stands by the pulpit. We know Jack. He has been here before to lec ture, and he staid at our house. He says he likes to be called just Jack. He and the Colonel are staying at our house this time, too. The temperance lec turers always stay at our house. My mother puts 61 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE them in the parlor bedroom, and makes a fire in the parlor stove. Jack stands smiling a minute, until everybody is quiet. He is good sized, and jolly looking. He puts his finger on his forehead, and says : " Do you see this here scar on my face? Do you see this here grey hair of mine grey long before my time? I 'm goin' to tell you now what the liquor traffic 's done for me! " Jack tells about when he was a young man and used to get drunk, and how mean he was to his family. When he gets to talking about his mother and his wife and little boy, people begin to cry, but pretty soon he tells a funny story and they begin to laugh. Jack is full of fun. He knows a lot of stories that no one has ever heard before. But after he gets through with a story, he always pitches into the saloons and breweries and the drunkards just the same. Jack goes for the saloonkeepers worst of all. He says : " I understand there are men in this com munity that spend their money at the saloons and let their wives and children go in poverty and rags and suffer from cold and hunger ! " When Jack says that, we all hold our breath. We know he means Barney. Barney's wife can never go anywhere, because she has n't anything to wear, and they say the baby died because they did n't keep it warm enough one night when he was on a spree. 62 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Jack says : " And I understand you have two licensed hell-holes down yonder at the station, selling poison, and breeding misery and crime ! " It is as quiet as can be. I keep thinking of Char ley Binzel and Rudy Weber. They are the saloon keepers' boys, and they seem as good as anybody. I like Rudy. Jack says : " Yes, ladies and gentlemen ! The money that should go to feed and clothe their wives and children is laid down on the counter in them two dens of infamy and sinks of iniquity down yonder! I tell you it would be better for them men to have mill stones hanged about their necks and be drowned in the depth of the sea ! " Jack stretches his arm out and points toward the depot. We all think of the way the two saloons look. When Jack begins again, he shouts : " I tell you, ladles and gentlemen, jest so long as we have these hell-holes in our midst here in this land of ours, jest so long we 're a-goin' to have vice and poverty and crime, and jest so long we 're a-goin' to see the widow and the orphan laid down on the altar of appetite ! " When Jack gets to going like that, no one stirs. Once in a while he brings his fist down on the pulpit. It makes us all jump. After a while Jack begins to talk lower again. My father leans over in front and whispers to Grandpa Tyler : " By jolly, don't he just give it to 'em? " Grandpa Tyler turns his head, and whispers back : 63 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE " Don't he, though ? Too bad they can't be 'round to hear it ! " We can tell that Jack is almost through. After a while he says he '11 sing us one of his songs. He sings one that always ends up : " And the bells go chiming on." First it is church bells, then wedding bells, then fire bells, then funeral bells, and last of all the temperance bells. They all go chiming on. There is a place where a mother hears some funeral bells. She says : " My boy, my darling boy ! " It makes us awfully sorry for her, and Edie's mother cries. XI Jack Sings Temperance Songs, and Pitches into the Saloon* JACK says : " Now Colonel Stanislawski is goin' to address you, and I 'm goin' to take a rest, and then maybe after he is done I '11 sing you an other song." Colonel Stanislawski is full of fun, too. He is a big man, with a bald head and without whiskers. He talks broken, and is always saying " Ladies and julte- men." He is a Polack, but he is n't like the ones we know. His whole name is Colonel Count John Stanislawski. He says his ancestors were kings in Poland. The Colonel tells again how he had to leave his country, and how he fought against the rebels down south in the sixties, and how he is going to spend the rest of his days fighting the liquor traffic. He keeps us laughing, but sometimes some of the women cry. The Colonel does n't talk very long. He says : " Now I am not going to keep on any longer, be cause Brother Jack here has a lot more to say to you, and some more songs to sing." Jack gets up again. He says : " Yes, ladies and 65 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE gentlemen, I have got a lot more to say ! There ain't near time to tell you half of what 's on my heart to night. I 'm just goin' to tell you a couple of stories, and then sing you another song. They 're true stories, too, every word of 'em ! You need n't think I 'm making 'em up. No sir! You could n't make up stories with half the misery and affliction caused by the demon drink that they is in real every day life!" The stories make a lot of people cry. Edie sits with her handkerchief over her eyes. But every lit tle while they all have to laugh. At one place, Jack stops and yells out : " I tell you hell is FULL of such iniquity ." We all sit still. We are so excited we can't move. We think maybe that 's all Jack is going to say in that sen tence. But all of a sudden he goes on : " and slop- pin' over at every corner." That brings the house down. Grandpa Tyler slaps his leg. He turns and winks at my father. Jack waits until they are almost through laughing. He says : " O' course it 's a good thing to laugh, but we must never forget the monstrous nature of the whiskey traffic, and the blight it is to our beloved land ! " Jack finishes the stories. He says : " I could tell you a lot more just as heart-breakin' and just as true as these, but you don't need to be told stories or any thing else to realize the enormity of the traffic in 66 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE strong drink. Now I '11 sing you another song, and then I 'm goin' to ask all of you that have n't done it the last four days, to come forward and sign the pledge." Jack's song is about a little girl. Her father goes to the saloon and gets drunk and does something bad. The little girl's mother sends her to see why he does n't come home. The first verse is this way. The little girl says the words : "O mister barkeeper, has father been here? He 's not been at home for the day ; And now it grows dark, and my mother 's in fear Some accident keeps him away." Jack turns to one side while he is singing the first verse. When he begins the second, he turns to the other side. The barkeeper says the words in the second : "Oh no, little mistress, your father's not here; Some officers took him away. They've taken him off to the lock-up, I fear; He 's done something wicked, they say." Then Jack turns the other way again, and sings : "Oh, 't was not my father that did the bad deed; 'T was drinking that maddened his brain. let him go back to dear mother, I plead ; 1 'm sure he '11 not do it again." After that, there is a kind of ending, that says : 67 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE " I 'm sure, I 'm sure, I 'm sure, I 'm sure he '11 not do it again." Jack says : " Now everybody sing the last verse with me ! And if you can't remember all the words, come out strong on the ' I 'm sure,' anyway ! " Jack holds up his hand. He says : " Now ! A-a-all together ! " They all sing: " Oh, 't was not my father that did the bad deed; 'T was drinking that maddened his brain. let him go home to dear mother, I plead; 1 'm sure he '11 not do it again. I 'm sure, I 'm sure, I 'm sure, I 'm sure he '11 not do it again." A good many can't remember the first part, but they all come out with the " I 'm sure," just the way Jack said. Jack says : " Now then, when the benediction 's over, you come right up and sign the pledge ! And when the next 'lection comes 'round, see to it that you vote against the curse o' rum ! And you church members remember to vote as you pray ! " The minister spreads out his hands, and we all look down. He says the benediction. We all begin to look for our caps and things. Just then Jack yells out something. We all straighten up and look at him. He says : " They say you can't make a whistle out of a pig's tail, but that 's a mistake, and I 'm going to show you that 68 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE you can ! " He reaches into his pocket and takes something out and blows it. He holds it up. It is crooked like a pig's tail, anyway. We all laugh, and begin to talk to each other. Grandpa Tyler walks down with us. The lec turers are coming later. Grandpa Tyler says: "Don't he just give ever- lastin' fits to the saloonkeepers, though? " My father says : " Sometimes I think 't aint all their fault, after all. If folks would n't buy, they would n't sell." My mother says : " Now, Hi, you know better than to talk that way ! If the horrid stuff was n't for sale, of course there would n't be the temptation." My father says : " Well, anyway, it 's a disrepu table business to be in, sure pop ! " We walk along a while without saying anything. Grandpa Tyler says : " No, sir ! They 's no use talkin'. The stuff ain't never done nobody any good." He says : " Now, you know, there 's some 69 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE says they can work better if they have a jug o' liquor round, but I don't believe a word they say." He says : " Now, there 's that fellow down east o' here. I can't think of his name. You know who I mean. It 's that Dutchman 't got converted and joined the East Church. Well, anyway, he told me 't he 'd worked in the harvest field time an' agin, with it an' without it, an' 't he could always do more work without." My father says : " Of course ! It stan's to rea son." Every little while a cutter or a bob comes jingling along behind us, and we have to get out of the road till they go by. I keep thinking of Rudy and Charley. I wish their fathers would sell out, and be farmers. 70 XII / Dig a Path, and Get a Ride to School with Walt MY mother says : " Hurry up and get through with your breakfast! I want you to see if you can't shovel the path before you go to school. Speckle has so much to do I guess you '11 have to help him out." It has been snowing all night. It snowed all day yesterday, too. It began before Sunday School. It has been blowing, too, so that there are big drifts. When they went out to do chores they went in over their knees. My brother is shoveling out the path to the barn now. I go out to where my brother is. He is almost through. The path where he has n't shovelled yet is full of deep tracks where they waded out when they went to do chores. He has the big scoop shovel. I say : " Can I have the shovel as soon 's you 're through? Ma wants me to shovel the front path." My brother takes great big shovelfuls. He is soon through. When he throws out the last, he tosses the shovel toward where I am. It sticks up in the snow. I take the shovel around in front of the house, and 71 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE begin. Right near the veranda there is n't very much snow. The wind did n't strike there, so it did n't drift. Soon I am as far as the little hick ory. At the hickory it begins to be deep. I try to scoop the snow fast, but it is heavy, and the shovel is too big for me. I have to cut down at the sides, and go slow. The shovel goes down through and hits the stones in the gravel walk. When I get as far as the petunia bed and the evergreen, I look back. The big chunks of snow are piled up on both sides of the path. They look fine and white. The sun makes them shine. They make me think of white sugar. I don't mean granulated sugar, but the kind we always get, with lots of lumps in it. There is a dip in the ground when I get out almost to the road. The snow is so deep there that when I stoop over I am almost out of sight. The snow in the road is ever so deep, and only two .or three sleighs have been along. I get all warm. Just as I am through, I see Jim coming up from the depot. I run in and put the scoop shovel in the woodshed, and grab my comforter and dinner pail and run out of the front door. Jim is just going by. He sees me, and stops to wait. We have to walk in the deep ruts. It is hard work. I try to walk on the ridge between, but it is 72 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE too soft there. I keep going in, and every little while one foot slips and I almost fall. I begin to feel warm. Jim says : " Le* 's try the banks ! I bet the crust is hard enough to hold us up." The banks run along beside the fence. It is a rail fence, and the banks are crooked. We wade out. Jim goes in over his knees. I go in so far I can hardly take the next step. Jim says : " It '11 be harder up on top. Le' 's climb up there ! " But the banks are not very solid. They keep breaking. We go in so deep we can hardly get out. After a while, Jim says : " 'T ain' no use ! " He is in up to his waist, and I am in almost to my shoul ders. I fall over, and go down almost out of sight. Jim laughs. He says : " You want to look out ! First thing you know, you '11 go in so far they '11 have to dig you out, you 're such a little feller." We hear bells coming. Jim says : " I bet you it 's the Barretts ! We '11 get a ride." Pretty soon the horses' heads come into sight over the little rise in front of Uncle Anthony's. Jim says : " Yah, it 's them ! " The Barretts drive up every morning while there is sleighing. Frank and Joey are the only Bar rett boys that come to school now, but there are a 73 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE lot of boys that pile in on the way. The sleigh is full. They are all standing up. Walt is driving. We call Walt " Washtub," on account of the straw hat he wears in summer. It has a wide brim, and comes down over his ears. You can hardly see his face. I yell at Walt: "Hello, Washtub! Gimme a ride?" Walt yells at me : " Ah there, Pecky ! Pile in with you ! " Walt means peck measure. That 's because my hat is little. The horses have to pull hard when we come to the church hill. The runners go in so far that the axles scrape the top of the snow. When we drive into the school ground we go in almost up to the box. It is like going in a boat. The bob leaves two deep ruts, with smoothed-off snow between. There are streaks on the smoothed-off part, where the bolts and things went. We stop at the steps. Walt yells : " Pile out, everybody ! " We all jump out. We stand and watch Walt turn around. The horses go in up to their bellies. The sleigh almost floats. All we can hear is the bells, and the horses' feet going in. The sleigh makes a fine track in a circle. When the horses get out of the deep snow and into the road, they start off home on the trot. The bells make a fine jingling. 74 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Walt stands in the box and waves his whip at us. He yells at me : " So long, Pecky ! " I wave my hand, and yell back : " So long, Wash- tub!" 75 XIII We Have Fun in the Snow Before School Calls WE go in and set our dinner pails on the shelf. We run out again. We run around in the snow scuffing our feet. It is up over our knees. There is hardly any crust. The girls stand on the steps and watch us. The snow does n't pack yet, so we can't throw snowballs. We run up to the steps and throw hand- fuls at the girls. It comes apart and scatters all over them. Gertie says : " You stop that ! If you do that again I '11 wash your face ! " Georgie throws some more at her. Gertie jumps off the steps and runs after him. She can't catch him. When she is going by me, I throw some more at her. She turns around quick and catches me and washes my face. She throws me down in the snow. I get up and laugh at Gertie. I say : " You need n't think I care ! " I run away to where the snow is deep. I say: " How 's Harv these days? " Gertie gets red. Harv is a boy over north. She says : " Shut up, will you ? Next time you say that I '11 put snow right down your neck ! " A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I run away a little farther, and yell : " How 's Harv these days ? " Gertie starts after me, but I know she won't come out into the deep snow. Georgie throws a handful of snow at her and runs away and yells : " How 's Harv ? " Then Tip and all the rest begin. We get her so mad she does n't know what to do. At last Gertie says : " I 'm going to tell teacher, so now ! " She runs in, but we know she won't tell. Teacher is n't here yet, anyway. August and Heiny are standing in the middle of the deep snow, looking at us. They have Scotch caps on, and have them drawn down over their ears. They have white woolen comforters around their necks, tied under their chins, and they are not very clean. The ends are long and fuzzy. They button them inside their coats, and it makes them stick out in front. August and Heiny look clumsy. Their coats are coarse and thick, and make their arms hang down stiff. Their mittens are coarse and stiff, too. Their caps are down so far they have to hold their heads back to see anything. Syd takes a run and picks Heiny up and runs across the road with him. Heiny's arms and legs go, and he begins to yell. Syd gives him a toss, and he comes down in the middle of a big snowbank near the fence. We can't see anything but a big hole, and some black mixed up with the snow. 77 Heiny kicks and rolls around, and we all laugh as hard as we can. He gets up and stands there cry ing. His arms stick straight down. He yells : " August ! August ! August ! " He pronounces it " Ow-goost." August goes and gets Heiny by the hand. He says to him : " You don't vant to cry ! De snow von't hurt you." August's voice is always hoarse. August brushes Heiny off. He takes his cap and shakes it, and puts it back on his head. He picks Heiny up and starts to carry him out to the road. They both fall down, and we laugh again. August laughs, too, and pretty soon so does Heiny. When they get back where we are, Syd makes be lieve he is going to take Heiny again. Heiny runs behind August. August says : " Aw, come on, don't t'row him in again ! He '11 get all over snow and vet, and catch cold. Take somevone else, uf you vant to t'row anyvone in." Syd says: "All right!" He jumps after Au gust. August starts to run. He falls down, and Syd falls down over him. They both get up all white, and start to run again. Syd catches August, and runs and throws him into the biggest snowbank he can find. August rolls around in the snow on purpose. When he gets up he is white all over, and his cap is away down over his eyes. We all laugh and yell, and run and jump into the 78 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE bank. We roll around, and throw snow at each other, and try to wash each other's faces. Georgie climbs up on the fence, and yells: " Watch ! I 'm a-goin' to dive ! Watch ! " Georgie waits until everybody is looking. Then he jumps head first into the bank. He tumbles and rolls around, and we can hardly see him. It is a long time before he gets up. The snow sticks up on top of his cap, and he gets a lot of it down his neck. We all get on the fence just as Georgie did, and dive all at once. Our faces get all wet. The snow gets in our necks and up our sleeves. Some of us have our pants tucked in, and our boots get full of snow. We don't care for that. My brother and Edie come along. The big girls are in the windows, watching us. We roll around worse than ever. Bill says : " Come on, everybody, and le' 's make a monkey pile ! " We all yell : " All right, come on ! " We pitch onto Bill and get him down, and then all pile onto one another. August and Heiny get on top. Heiny sits on top of August, and claps his hands and laughs at the girls in the windows. The bell rings. We all start and run over to the steps. Georgie gets there first, and goes in after the broom. He says to Tip : " You sweep me and I '11 sweep you. Come on ! " They sweep each other off. Bill grabs the broom 79 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE before Georgie is done, and gets Jim to sweep him off. Then he sweeps Jim off. When we get through sweeping, we have to sit down on the steps and take our boots off. We turn them bottom side up and slap them with our hands until the snow is all out. When we go in, teacher looks at us and laughs. He says to Georgie and me : " You 'd better stand by the stove a little while, and see if your clothes won't dry out." We take our books and go to the stove. First we stand with our faces toward the stove, and then with our backs. When we go to our seats, Tip and Bill ask if they can stand there. It smells steamy all over the room. 80 XIV We Make Two Snow Forts at Noon, and Have a Battle BEFORE noon we can hear the eaves dropping. We know the snow will pack. Georgie pokes me in the back. I look at the teacher. He is n't looking. I turn around a little. Georgie whispers : " Give this to Tip." He drops a note over into my seat. I drop the note over into Tip's seat, and give him a poke. He looks at teacher. He is n't sure whether teacher is watching or not. He looks at his book all the time while he picks up the note and gets it unfolded. He unfolds it under the desk, and puts it in his book. Pretty soon he looks around. He nods at Georgie. Georgie whispers to me : " We 're goin' to bring our shovels and make a fort." I keep thinking what fun that will be. When noon comes, Tip and Georgie start for home as fast as they can. Tip yells back at Georgie: " Few know!" Georgie yells : " Get back as quick as you can ! " 81 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip yells: "All right!" They both begin to run. Bill says to us : " Come on in, and le' 's eat right away ! " As soon as we are through, we all run out. The steps are wet and steaming. In front of them it is almost slushy. We try the snow. It packs as nice as can be. Bill says to Frank and Dan : " Come on, le' 's start some balls for the fort ! " Jim says : " All right, and we '11 start some, too." I help Jim. We go over to where the snow is n't very deep, so it will be moist away down to the ground. We pack a little of it together tight, and begin to roll it over and over. It all sticks together, and the balls get big right away. Jim says: "Don't she pack just fine, though? We '11 have a dandy fort in no time. When they get here with the shovels, it '11 be all ready for the finishin' touches." We roll the balls straight ahead a while, and then to one side. That keeps them from getting too square. Where the snow is thin enough, they leave the ground bare, and make big black tracks. We make eight big balls, and roll them into two lines facing each other. One line is near the bass- woods, and the other by second base. We make smaller ones to stop up the cracks with. 82 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip and Georgie come running with their shovels. They fill up all the cracks, and level off the top and the sides. In a few minutes we are all read} 7 for the battle. Bill and Jim choose sides. When anyone gets hit, he has to go over to the other fort and fight on that side. There are so many of us that it is hard for all of us to get into the forts. Tip says : " Hoi' on ! We got to have some flags if we 're a-goin' to have a war. Here, this '11 be ourn." He gets a stick and ties his handkerchief on it. He sticks it up in the top of our fort. He says : " We 're the 'Mericans. Our fort is Bunker Hill." Jim is really our commander, but Tip just goes ahead. He is so interested. Bill fixes up his handkerchief on their fort, the same way. His handkerchief is red and white. He says : " All right, we '11 be the British." Georgie says : " The British did n't have a fort, though." Bill says : " That 's so. I never thought o' that." Tip says: "Aw, who cares? Le' 's just play they did." Dan yells out from their fort : " All right, come ahead with your bullets, if you want anything! We '11 show you, mighty quick." A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Jim and Bill and Tip and Dan all yell " Fire ! " at the same time. We begin to let fly. We stand up and fire, and dodge when the balls come. We hit a lot of their men. Soon we get them all on our side except Bill and August. August can't throw that far. He just jumps up and laughs, and then goes down again quick. Our balls hit the top of the fort or go over his head. August jumps up and goes down again a good many times without getting hit. He comes up with his arms sticking straight out sideways and his mouth wide open, laughing because we never can hit him. He looks so funny that we have to laugh, too. We laugh so hard we can hardly throw. Tip says : " I tell you what le' 's do throw just when he's goin' to come up! That'll be the way." The next time August comes up, only part of us throw. Then we wait a little while, and all begin to let fly. Just then August comes up again, with his arms out and his mouth wide open. One of the balls takes him right in the nose. It smashes to pieces all over his face. It hits him just as he begins to yell. Part of it goes in his mouth, so that he gives a kind of yelp. We almost die laughing. We laugh so hard that we forget, and Bill hits a couple of our men. Pretty soon he has a whole lot of them, and there are only Tip and Jim and I. 84 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Bill yells out : " We 're goin' to charge on you and capture you now. You better look out ! " Tip says to us : " Hurry up, make a hull lot o' balls, and have 'em ready ! " Bill's side don't throw for a minute. We know they are busy making balls, too. We get a lot of balls ready, and hold them in the hollow of our arms. Then Tip stands in front of us and says : " Soldiers, if they mean to have a war, let 'em have it now ! Don't fire till you can see the whites o' their eyes ! Remember Tippecanoe ! " I begin to say : " Aw, that ain't the way you want to say it! " But just then Bill's men yell and rush out. We jump up, too. The balls begin to fly. We are having the most fun of all. Then the bell rings. We all stop, and say: " A-a-aw, 't ain't no one o'clock yet ! " We throw a few more balls, and go in. Bill says : " A minute more, an' we 'd 'a 5 had the hull o' you!" Tip says : " You would, would you ? Well I bet you would n't ! " Jim says : " Was n't it funny the way that ball took August just as he come up? I laughed so hard I 'most died." Tip says : " That 's how they come to get ahead of us. If it had n't V been for that, we 'd V soon had 'em all." 85 XV Edie Is Punished at School, Right in Front of My Brother TEACHER is hearing A Arithmetic. My brother and Edie and Syd and some of the other big boys and girls are in it. Teacher is figuring on the blackboard, and talking. He says : " I don't care whether it says so in the book or not ! I can solve any problem this way that you want to give me. I don't care what it is ! " Teacher's ears are red. When he turns around, his nose looks sharp and his lips thin. Some of them say he has an awful temper when you get him going. They say he gets perfectly furious when they plague him about the girls. They say he is engaged to a girl at home where he goes every couple of weeks. Syd holds up his hand. Teacher says : " What is it?" Syd says something. I can't hear it all, but it is about an example. Teacher says : " All right ! " He puts down some numbers that Syd tells him, and begins to fig ure. Pretty soon teacher stops. His ears look redder 86 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE than ever. I can see that the example is n't coming out the way he wants it to. Steve looks at Syd, and winks. I am afraid teacher will see him. Teacher rubs out the example. He says : " Well, I have n't got time now, but I '11 figure it out to night and bring it to-morrow." He dismisses the class. He looks cross. August raises his hand. Teacher says : "Well?" August says: " Vill you please write a copy for Heiny ? " Teacher writes some capitals and little letters on the board. Heiny begins to copy. His face looks as if it were hard work. It is all wrinkled up, and his tongue sticks out. I study my arithmetic. We are in fractions. Pretty soon I hear teacher say : " You may stand by your seat. I want no whispering, and no notes ! " I look at teacher. He is looking at someone on the girls' side. I look over there. Just as I look, Edie gets up. She smiles a little, but not very long. She stands holding her geogra phy, and looking down at it. She has her blue dress and white apron on. Her hair is n't so very long, and is a little bit curly. It hangs down her back, and has a blue ribbon around it at the back of her head. It looks pretty on her blue dress. She has bangs, and blue eyes, and her skin is white, except when she blushes. 87 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I look at Edie a while, and then I look at my brother. My brother's ears are red. He does n't look up at all. He has his book open, but I know he can't be studying. Teacher says : " B Arithmetic ! " I get up, and our class goes up to the front seats. Teacher gives us some examples to work out on the board. Some of us don't go to the board. He asks questions of us until, those at the board are done. I turn and look at Edie. She has her face down toward her book, and is smiling. I know she has been looking at some one. All at once teacher stops asking us ques tions. He keeps look ing at Edie. He is half red, and half white, and his lips are tight together. He says : " Edie, were you whis pering again? " Edie looks at him. She tries to smile. She says : " Yes, sir." Teacher says : " Very well, then, you may come up to my desk." He picks up the ruler. 88 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Edie comes up to the desk. She stands where I can see her face. She has her geography. Teacher says : " Hold out your hand ! " Edie tries to smile again. She puts her teeth over her lips. It is just as quiet as can be. We all sit watching. I can't help turning around a little to look at my brother. He is n't looking up. Edie holds out her hand. Teacher brings the ruler down. It makes a loud crack, and we all jump. He brings it down hard four times. Then he says: " You may stand by your seat again." I look around at my brother. I see Syd and Steve looking at him, too. My brother's ears are red, but his face is n't. He looks pale. Jennie and Frankie look scared. At noon my brother walks home with Edie. When we go out to play after dinner, they are standing there yet, in front of their gate. Then she goes in, and he goes home. Just before school calls, they come back together. I don't like teacher very well to-day. When I get home at night, I run in and tell my mother all about Edie and teacher. My mother says : " And did she cry ? " I say: " No, she just stood and looked pale while he brought the ruler down, and then she got red afterward." My mother says : " I wonder what old Spot thought of it." 89 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE At supper, she says to my brother : " I hear your sweetheart got her hands spatted to-day." My brother does n't say anything. He is eating bread and butter and pork and beans. When he bites into the bread his cheeks wrinkle up and his eyes shut, the way they always do. My mother says : " What was she doing that was so awful bad? " My brother keeps on eating a while. He does n't look up. Then he says : " Oh, she was whisper- in'." My brother gets red after he says it. He eats the beans in big forkfuls. My father says : " Well, you 're pretty young yet to be goin' with one girl so much. My stars, you're only children! It 'd be just as well if you wa'n't quite so thick." My brother keeps on eating. He presses his knife flat against the plate to get all of the beans that are left, and scrapes the knife on his fork. He puts the fork into his mouth, and lays it down on his plate. He gets up and goes after the milk pails, and goes out. My mother says : " I don't know as I blame her mother for making such a fuss, with Edie so young." She says : " But after all, I don't really think there 's any need to worry. That 's the way boys and girls are." My father says : " Well, anyway, it 's about time 90 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE we put a stop to his goin' to see her every single night. He better stay home once in a while, and pay more attention to his lessons." XVI My Father and Uncle Anthony Shovel out the Road, and We See a Snowplough IT snowed again yesterday, all day and all night. And it blew, too. My father says : " Well, I guess we '11 have to warn out a man or two, and shovel out here and there, or teams won't be able to get through." My father is pathmaster. Sometimes they call it " road boss." Every spring he has to oversee when they work on the road, and when there is too much snow he has to call some of the men out to clear away. My father says to my brother : " S'posing you go over to Uncle Anthony's and see if he won't come. We '11 see to some o' the worst places, anyway." He says : " We might as well be workin' out some o* the taxes now when there 's nothing to do, as in the spring." My brother has to wade through the front yard and across the road. He can hardly get Uncle An thony's gate open far enough to squeeze through. After a while he comes back and goes out to hitch 93 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE up. They are going to leave our paths till they get back. It is n't so very cold. I ask if I can go along with them. I get my comforter and pull my Scotch cap down over my ears. I don't have an overcoat. My mother says boys are so warm-blooded they don't need overcoats. Pretty soon Uncle Anthony comes over with his shovel. We start up the road toward the church. The old marcs wallow through the snow even where it is level. When they come to a drift, my brother and my father and Uncle Anthony get out and clear away till my father says : " That '11 do. I guess we can make a track now." When they all get out, I hold the lines. If it is n't a very big drift, my brother shovels it alone. When we go by Edie's mother's, my brother keeps looking at their windows. I look, too. We don't see anybody. We go as far as the schoolhouse, and turn around. We go back north past our house down to the de pot. There is a team hitched in front of one of the sa loons. We can see where it came from, over north. Uncle Anthony says : " Well, they 've got through from up that way. Ain't no use of us goin', is they?" My father says : " I don't s'pose they really is. 94 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE But had n't we better take a turn up and back any way, and kind o' wear a path for the rest? " We go past the saloons up by Grandpa Tyler's and as far as the bottom of the burying ground hill. Then we come back to the depot and stop. There won't be any trains to-day, though, by the looks of the tracks. Most of the way we can't see the rails. The water tank has a thick white cap on. There is smoke going up from the depot and the store. Mr. White is clearing off the store steps. He shovels first, and then sweeps. They are clearing the snow away over by the saloons, too. Uncle Anthony says to Mr. White : " White, 't was quite a storm, wa'n't it? " We sit and watch Mr. White sweep. Uncle An thony says: " Goin' to git some more, think? " Mr. White looks up at the sky. He says : " Looks a good deal like it, sure 's you 're alive ! " He finishes the sweeping, and strikes the broom on the steps to get the snow out. He says : " Another night like last night, and you '11 have to go without your Patriot longer 'n you ever did yet. As 't is, there ain't been anything along since number three last night. They run the flanger out just before." I know what the flanger is. I saw it go through once. It is a box car with iron things at the bottom to clear the rails. The man in it lifts the flangers with a lever every time they come to a crossing or a 95 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE culvert. He has to know every crossing or culvert on the line. If he did n't, he 'd tear up the planks, or else break the flangers. Mr. White says : " Johnnie tells me they 're goin' to run the snowplough out this mornin'." Just as Mr. White picks up the shovel to go in, he stops and looks down toward the old stone tank, where the tracks go around the curve out of sight. He says : " Hello, there she comes now ! Funny ! I did n't hear her whistle for the John Green crossin'. Did you?" Uncle Anthony says : " No, I don't know as I did." We watch them come. The engine and the smoke are as black as can be. Every little while the snow flies up in the air, and we can hardly see the engine. Then they strike a clearer place, and there is n't any snow. They whistle for the depot. My father says: " Well, s'posin' we drive across and see 'em come in." My brother and I jump out and run ahead. We can't wait. When we get around to the depot door on the other side, Johnnie is standing there looking down the track. Just before they get to the depot, there is a big drift. The plough goes plumping into it, and the snow flies both sides and up into the air. The engine almost stops, and has to puff hard to get through. The engine comes rumbling and clanking along, 96 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE and stops in front of us. The engineer is in the window. It is old Jim Little. Jim has been on the road ever since anyone can remember. Johnnie goes out to the engine, and says : " Jim, how you makin' it? Think number one '11 be out this afternoon ? " Jim swings down, and begins to oil. He says : " Hard tellin'. It 's all right from Town out this fur, o' course, but I don't know how much furder we 're a-goin' to git. There 's them deep cuts up the line, you know. We been almost stuck more 'n once as 't is, an' if she blows up agin some more, we '11 be stalled for sure." Jim looks up at the sky, and shakes his head. He is old and thin, and has grey hair. My father says : " Well, Anthony, le' 's get along home. Come on, boys I" I say to my brother : " Ask him to wait till the snowplough goes. Will you? " My brother says : " Ask him yourself ! You got a tongue, ain't you? " I go up to my father and say : " Pa, can't you wait till the snowplough goes ? " My father looks down at me. He says : " Oh pshaw! Who knows how long they'll stay here?" I say : " Oh, they 're getting ready now. See ? " Old Jim climbs up into the cab. The fireman rings the bell. The engine makes a steaming noise, and goes clanking across the wagon road and past 97 the switches. It hardly has to puff at all, because it has n't any cars to pull. When they get beyond the tank, the snow begins to fly again. It shoots out, and then makes a kind of spray. We watch it until they are past the trees up near the bullhead hole. Uncle Anthony says : " She ain't stuck so fur, anyway. But they 's no tellin' what '11 happen up in them cuts." We go up the hill toward home. The flakes are beginning to come down again. We stop to shovel out a little deeper in front of Mr. White's, and then stop for Uncle Anthony to get out. Uncle Anthony says : " Oh, you need n't to stopped. I could 'a' just dropped off without." The snow is coming down fast now, and the wind is getting strong. Uncle Anthony says : " Well, Hi, it 's my opin ion, the way it looks now, 't we '11 have the hull thing to do over again to-morrow." My father says : " I should n't wonder a bit ! " He begins to smile. He says : " No tellin', maybe you '11 have to miss church to help clear out the roads." Uncle Anthony laughs. He says : " Like as not!" My father and Uncle Anthony hardly ever go to church unless there is a funeral. Grandpa Tyler and Mr. White are just the same. 98 XVII There Is a Big Snow Storm, and the " Youth's Companion " Does n't Come WE hear my brother and my father come in through the woodshed door. They stamp a great deal, and then we hear them sweeping the snow off their feet and out of the door. They come in and wash. My father says : " I declare, it 's all you can do to see from the barn to the house ! Makes me think of what they say about the blizzards out in Dakota." We all sit down to dinner. My mother says : " I read of a man out there the other day that got lost going from his house to his barn. When it cleared up, they found him within a stone's throw of the barn. 'T ain't safe to go out without holding on to a rope tied to your house, out there, they say." We have fried salt pork, potatoes and gravy, and onions sliced in vinegar. My brother sits and eats without saying anything. When I ask him for things, he passes them without stopping or looking at me. When we get through, I get up and look out 99 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE through the north window. The glass is all steam. I rub the steam off with my hand. I can just see the barnyard fence, and that 's all. Everything is all white. My father says : " Anthony was right about the road. We '11 have it to do all over again to-mor row." The window sill outside is all snow. The wind makes a rushing noise. The snow makes a little ticking sound when it blows onto the glass. In some places the steam is beginning to turn to frost. My father says : " This is about the worst we 've had yet, ain't it? Seems to me we 're getting a good deal o' snow this winter." We all sit around and read. At half past two, I say : " I guess I '11 go down to the depot." I always go down to meet the three o'clocks on Saturday, because that is the time the Youth's Com panion comes. My brother says: "Well, you must be sick! You think they '11 be any trains through to-day? " But I keep thinking of the Companion and the con- 100 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE tinued story. I think of the way Mr. White tears the wrapper off the bundle, and folds every paper and puts it in the right place. I think how smooth the paper feels, and of the fresh paper smell. I put my cap and comforter and mittens on, and go down the hill. The snow is so deep I can hardly walk, and I soon get warm and out of breath. The wind blows the snow into my face until I can hardly see. When I get half way down the depot hill, I can see that the rails are all covered up. No one would know there was a railroad track there, if it weren't for the switches. There is nobody in the store but Mr. White. When I go in, he is reading a newspaper. Mr. White looks at me over his glasses. He says : " I 'm awful 'fraid you won't get your Companion to-day." I say : " I thought maybe that 's how it would be, but I thought it might come." I feel disap pointed. Mr. White says : " The girls '11 be sorry. And hanged if I know what to do without it myself, I 'm so used to havin' it come Saturday. I kind o' like it for part o' my Sunday readin'." Mr. White gets up and looks at the clock. He says : " Quarter to three. Well, I s'pose I must get at the mail. I know mighty well they won't be no trains out to-day, but I s'pose I '11 have to get 101 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE it ready same 's if they was comin'. The gover'ment 's mighty strict about the mail." He is always tell ing about how strict the government is. Mr. White goes behind the counter where the mail case is. He says : " Of course, they might come, but then I don't much expect it." He takes a bunch of letters out of one of the holes in the case, and picks up his stamp. First he stamps all the postage stamps. That is to cancel them. Then he takes another stamp, and stamps the date. Mr. White is very careful, and brings the stamp down hard on the letter right in the same place, and then presses on it. Sometimes he stamps one again. He says : " The gover'ment wants 'em stamped so 's you can see the date and the name o' the post office good and plain." When he is through stamping, he ties the letters all up together with some coarse, woolly string. He cuts the string with his scissors, and says: "There!" Then he puts the packet of letters in the mail bag. The bag is leather, and has rivets around the bottom and up the side, and leather handles. At the top, Mr. White runs a long strap through a lot of iron things, and locks it. He pushes it out on the coun ter. .Johnnie comes in. He stamps his feet, and knocks the snow off his cap. He says : " You need n't 102 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE mind about the mail to-day, White. Everything 's laid off on both lines." Then he says to me: "Well, you might just as well go on home now. You won't get no letter from her to-day." Johnnie is always making fun of me that way. He pretends I like the girls. I start home. At the top of the hill I meet Tip. He has to lift up the rim of his cap to see me. I say : " Everything 's laid off on both lines. Johnnie just said so. No Youth's Companion to day!" Tip says : " A-aw, now we got to wait till Mon day to see how the story 's a-goin' to come out ! " We stand there a minute. Tip says : " Maybe it '11 stop, and number one '11 get out to-night before the store is shut." I say : " No, Johnnie said everything was laid off for to-day." I say : " Come on back home with me!" Tip says : " I can't." I say : " Why can't you ? " Tip says : " 'Cause. I got to get a pound o' sugar for auntie. Pa said I had to." We say good-bye, and I start on home. The wind blows so hard on my back that it almost blows me over. 101 XVIII It Is Cold at School, and Teacher Lets Us Do as We Please IT is a terribly cold morning. It always seems as if Monday could be colder than any other morn ing in the week. My mother says to me : " Yes, of course you '11 go ! There '11 be sure to be a few there, and you don't want to miss. Hurry up, it 's quarter to nine ! You can run on the crust, and be there in no time." I break in a little going through the front yard, but the banks along the road hold me up all right. It makes a nice, crisp sound when I run. My tracks hardly show at all, the crust is so hard. I keep going up and down, because the banks are high in some places and low in others. They wind in and 'out, just the way the rail fence does. Once when I run down between two high parts my foot goes through, and I go down flat. I break the crust in all around. My pail flies open, and some of the bread and butter rolls out. I put it back and get up and run on. My comforter comes up over my nose. It gets warm and wet around my mouth, and smells of the wool. There is a little ice on the outside of it. 104 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The schoolhouse is almost empty. Teacher is fix ing the fire. There are only five or six scholars. It is cold and frosty all over the room. We can see our breaths. The window panes are all thick frost. There is smoke in the room. Teacher says : " You 'd better keep your things on and stay near the stove for a while, till it gets warmer." We hear someone come into the entry. They stamp and then sweep off. It is my brother and Edie. They both come in through the girls' door. He always carries her books when she has any. By and by there is louder stamping. The door opens, and Syd and little Joe come in. Little Joe blows his fingers. My brother looks at Little Joe. He says : " Joe, 105 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE you got a frozen ear ! Better hurry up and get some snow on it ! " Little Joe says: " Oh, go on, w'at you givin' me? You 're a-tryin' to 'oax me. I know you ! " Syd says : " No he ain't, Joe. 'Cross my heart ! It 's plum white, I '11 leave it to Edie." We all run to look at Little Joe's ear. It is white all around the rim. Little Joe looks at Syd and my brother to see if they really mean it, and runs out with his hand on his ear. He comes right back, hold ing a big handful of snow up to it. He stands by the stove with the snow on his ear quite a while. It be gins to melt and run down the side of his face. Syd says : " That 's long enough. Take it off now." Little Joe takes the snow off. His ear is bright red. He feels of it. He says : " I s'pose it '11 be gin to sting pretty soon. I don't see 'ow it could of 'appened. I never felt nothink ! " Teacher calls school. He just rings the bell at the desk, and does n't go to the door at all. There are only ten or twelve of us. We all stand by the stove as much as we want to. Teacher hears the classes sitting in the aisle near the stove. He does n't care about the rules at all. He is good-natured. We all like him. My brother and Edie stand by the stove quite a long time. They whisper all they want to. Little Joe's ear is thick and red. Every little 106 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE while he puts his hand against it. When we look, he points at it, and shakes his head, and draws in his breath through his teeth. He whispers that it haches. At noon it is a good deal quieter than other days. There are n't so many of us. Teacher has his din ner to-day, too. He has it in a little basket, and sits up behind the desk with it. We watch him eat. We don't say very much. My brother and Edie eat dinner together in her seat. We can't hear what they say. When we get through, we go to the entry for a drink. The water pail has thick ice in it. We break it. When we drink, little pieces of ice try to get into our mouths. We go in again. Tip says : " Come on over here to the window, and watch me stick a penny on the frost." He presses a penny against the pane till it sticks. Syd comes and sticks a quarter there. Syd al ways has money in his pocket. Tip and I are always talking about what we would buy if we only had as much money as Syd. The money gets stuck so tight that it won't come off. Syd says : " You have to press your thumb on till the penny is warm, so it '11 thaw the frost and let it off." Tip says : " Aw, I know that ! I done this be fore." 107 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE After school calls, I hold up my hand and say to teacher: " Can I sit with Tip this afternoon? " Teacher says : " Yes, if you '11 be good boys." That makes Bill think he 'd like to sit with some one. He holds up his hand and asks if he can sit with Georgie. Pretty soon August holds up his hand, too. He says: " Can I set by Fritz a little vhile? " Teacher smiles. He says : " I s'pose so." He says: "Anybody else? I s'pose you all want to change seats now." Gertie holds her hand up. Teacher says : " All right," almost before she has it up. He laughs. Tip and I work examples together for a while. Then we write. Then we have a game of tit-tat-toe. Tip knows a way he can beat every time, if you let him have first. When we get home after school, my mother says : " Well, who was at school ? " I tell her all of them. When I come to my brother and Edie, my mother says : " Oh yes, of course she 'd be there if he was." She says it as if she were glad of it. My brother looks cross at me. When we get out in the woodshed, and he is putting on his overalls, he says : " What you want to go and blab everything for?" 108 XIX My Father Begins to Tap Trees in the Sugar-bush MY mother says : " What a fine spring morn ing ! Is n't it nice to think we sha'n't have any more awful cold ? " My father says to my brother and me : " Well, to-day 's Saturday, and you 're both home. I guess we '11 get the pails and spiles set around by the trees. The sap may begin to run any time now, and we want to be ready." My father eats a few more buckwheat cakes. We are having the last of the buckwheat flour this week, and the last of the pork sausage with the sage in it. By and by my father says : " I should n't wonder a great deal if it 'd run to-day." He gets up from the table. He says to my brother : " You might go out and hitch up the old mares. While you 're doin' it we '11 go over to the shop and finish the spiles and bring 'em." My father and I go across to Uncle Anthony's shop. My father keeps all his tools there, and goes there to do his carpenter work. There is a big bas ketful of spiles all made, and a little pile of square pine sticks. They are about half a foot long. 109 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father fastens one of the sticks in the vise. He takes his bit and brace and bores a hole into the end of the stick, lengthways, about half way through. Then he takes the drawshave and cuts away from the upper side of the stick until he comes to the hole he bored. After that, he gouges a little round trough all the way to the end of the spile. Then he whittles down the end he bored into, until it fits into a hole he has in the side of the bench. He throws the spile into the basket with the rest. My father has only a few more to make. When he is through, he takes the big basket and I take the little one, and we carry them over to our barn and put them in the sleigh. My brother has the sleigh all ready, and we all get in. He drives out to the brush west of the house, and down through and across to the woods. The snow is half gone. Once in a while there are bare spots, except in the brush and woods. The crust is so hard the horses' feet almost get caught in it when they cut through. We drive through the big trees and up the hill to the sap-house. My father takes the door out, and he and my brother carry out the pails. They are in tall columns. I see the sheet iron pan in there. It makes me think of the time Tip and I blacked up with soot from the bottom of it and played nigger show. They put the pails in the sleigh, as many as they can, and we drive around in the woods with them. 110 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Every little way we leave a column of pails, and enough spiles to go around. I jump off and on. It is fine running around on the hard crust. The snow is n't very deep anywhere except in the hollows fac ing north. Pretty soon my father says : " Well, 't ain't so cold as I thought it was this morning when I got up. If it keeps on at this rate, I believe I can begin to tap this afternoon. It 's almost thawing now." My brother drives on. We unload some more pails. When we get all the load off, we drive back to the sap-house for more. My brother says : " How many of 'em are there all together ? Did you ever count 'em ? " My father says : " I expec I '11 tap near on to four hundred this year. It 's goin' to take some lit tle time to get around to 'em all." All at once my father points to a tree. He says : " There, look at that ! See that woodpecker over on that tree? There's sap running down, and he's drinkin' it. By jolly, if sap '11 run for woodpeckers it '11 run for us ! I '11 get right at it ! " My father says to me : " You run up to the sap- house and get me the bit and brace and hammer, and I '11 begin right away. See how fast you can go!" I go dodging through the trees across the hollow and up the sap-house hill. I am soon back. My father takes the bit and brace. He says to 111 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE my brother : " You can finish leaving the pails, and by that time your ma '11 want us for dinner." My father sits down on his toes in front of a tree. He bores into it a couple of inches or more. He does it almost always on the south side, because he says it is warmer on that side. He draws the bit out, and pokes the chips out of the hole with his finger. Some drops of sap come rolling out, too. Then I hand him a spile. He drives it in with two or three little taps of the hammer. I have a pail ready to put under. I make sure it is firm and won't tip over. We stand and wait a while, and watch the hole in the spile. All of a sudden the sap comes out, and runs down to the end of the spile and begins to drop into the pail. It makes a noise like dup, dup, dup, dup! My father says : " Well, well ! if they all run like that, 't ain't a-goin' to take long to get me pretty busy ! " We go on to another tree. After the first two or three, my father stops waiting to see whether the sap comes out. But I like to stand there until I see it come, and hear it go dup, dup, dup, dup! My father says : " That 's right, you watch it. If it don't come, run the stem of a leaf or something in, and see if that won't start it. Sometimes I might not get all the chips out, and they might stop it up." After a while I run back to the first tree. I pick 112 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the pail up, and drink what is in it. It is cool and sweet, but there is n't very much. I wish it would run faster. 113 XX Tip and Bill and Georgie Go with Me to the Arch SCHOOL is out. We grab our pails and run out and across the yard and up the road toward the woods. Bill says : " I wonder if it '11 be brown yet. Do you think it will ? " I say : " I don't know. He began to boil down / o this forenoon." We run so fast we soon begin to puff. Tip says : " Hoi' on ! I got the sideache ! " He finds a place where the snow is all off, and leans away over as far as he can and lifts up a stone and spits in the place where it was. He puts the stone back right in the same place. Georgie says: "Cure it?" Tip says : " O 5 course ! That always cures it. I never knew it to fail." We start to run again. Bill says : " Dast you ask your father for a drink of it if it J s brown ? " I say : " / don' know. Maybe." We come to the woods. We jump over the fence and start down the hill on the run. We go so fast it is all we can do to keep from running into the trees. 114 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Pretty soon there are pails all around. We stop and look into them. There is n't a great deal of sap in them. My father must have gathered from this side of the woods this forenoon. Some of the pails are red, and some are green, and some blue, and some yellow and striped. We can see them all over the woods. George says : " Come on ! Le' 's have a drink ! I 'm goin' to get one out o' this nice green pail." Bill says : " Oh, I 'm goin' to wait and see if we won't get a drink o' the nice brown out o' the big pan. Come on ! " We can see the sap-house down there through the trees. There is smoke and steam coming up from the arch. We start and run harder than ever. When we get near the arch, we slow down. We walk, and we don't talk so loud. The boys let me go first. We are all out of breath. There is black smoke coming out of the sheet iron chimney at the end of the arch. Right behind it is the big black kettle. The kettle is steaming quite a little. But the steam is just rolling off the big sheet iron pan that is over the main part of the arch. It is so thick that when we walk through it every thing is white. It feels warm, and has a sweet smell. My father is putting some long sticks of wood into the fire under the big pan. There is a big blaze in there. He sets a big piece of sheet iron up in front 115 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE of it for a screen. He has a board from the sap- house for a seat. It is fixed up on two logs, and has a tree for a back where he sits. After he has the wood in, he goes and sits down again. He puts one leg over the other, and clasps his hands on his knee. He looks at the fire under the screen. We go up to the side of the big pan, and look in. We stand on the side where the steam does n't blow on us. Tip says : " Kin you see it down in there? " Georgie looks, and I look. Bill stoops over until his face is close to the steam. We can't see anything but white steam. We can hear it boiling, down there under the steam. All of a sudden Georgie says : " There ! I saw it just as plain ! " Tip says : " So 'd I." Bill says : " Yes, you did ! In a pig's eye you did!" I look again. I see it, too, after a while. It is brownish, and full of bubbles. It boils like every thing. Bill says : " How did it look ? I could n't see nothin'. Was it brown, hey ? " Tip says: " You bet it was ! It looked just like coffee." Bill stands right close to me. He pokes me with his elbow. 116 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I say: "Stop! What 're you doin'? What's the matter with you? " Bill whispers : " Come on ! You know ! Go ahead ! " I know Bill wants me to ask my father for some of the sap out of the pan. I don't like to. Bill whispers again: "Don't you dast ask him? Go ahead ! He won't care. Come on ! " He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I stand still a while. Then I go over to where my father is sitting. He is reading a book now. I stand right near, and wait until my father looks up. I say : " Pa, can we have a little o' the sap out o' the big pan ? " My father thinks a while. He says : " Yes, I guess we can afford you a drop or two. You must n't take too much, though. You don't want to make yourself sick. And of course you must n't forget what a lot o' work it takes to make it." I go and get the dipper. I step up to the pan, and lower the dipper into the steam. I can't see the dipper and the sap at all. I can just feel the sap. It boils so hard it moves the dipper. I dip some sap, and lift it out. There is n't very much. Bill whispers : " Dip in again ! That ain't enough to go 'round. Dip in deeper ! " I hold the dipper up and pour out the sap so they all can see. Georgie says : " M-m-m-m ! Ain't it fine ? " Bill wipes his mouth again. 117 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I clip in a little deeper. It steams in the dipper when I take it out. Georgie says : " We must be careful and not burn our mouths. We must set the dipper in some snow first." I set the dipper down on some snow by the sap- house. I work it in a little, so it won't fall or slip. We all stand and look at it. The sap is nice and brown. We can't see the bottom of the dipper. Bill gives me a poke. He says : " Come on ! It 's cool enough now." I pick up the dipper. I hand it to Tip first. Tip drinks a little, and hands it to Bill. Bill almost grabs it. Bill drinks. Georgie stands looking at him. He has his hand all ready to take the dipper. Bill drinks so long that Georgie gives his arm a little shove. Bill says : " Look out ! What you doin'? Want to make me spill it ? " Georgie says : " I 'm 'fraid they won't be none left if you don't stop." Bill gives him the dipper. He says : " All right, take it then, if you want it so bad ! " Georgie drinks, and I take what is left. It is n't much, but I know I can have more some other time. 118 XXI I Help My Father Gather Sap and Boil Down TIP says : " Le' 's carry up some o' that wood for your father." Georgie says : " All right, come on ! " My father has been chopping up some old dead limbs at the bottom of the hill. We carry quite a pile of it, and put it near where he sits. My father says : " That '11 save me quite a few steps." After a while, Bill says : " Well, I got to go. I got chores to do." I go with the boys as far as the road fence at the top of the woods. We stand talking a minute. Georgie says to me : " Your father taps more trees 'n any of 'em, don't he? " Bill says: "Yes, you bet your boots he does! An' he can boil down better 'n the hull of 'em, can't he?" I say : " Some night when my brother is boiling down, le' 's ask him to let us come along. Shall we? " Tip says : " Yes, you bet you ! And we '11 boil eggs in the pan, and bake some potatoes in the coals. Won't we?" 119 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Bill says : " We '11 ha v e fun playin' hide-and-go- seek and tellin' stories." Georgie says : " Yah, you can have lots o' fun that way." Bill says : " I '11 show you how to make a live coal explode, too. You just lay it on a piece of iron, and spit on it first, and then you hit it a good crack with a hammer, and it '11 go off and make a noise as loud as a cannon." Georgie says : " Aw, go on ! S'pose we believe that ? You can't either do it ! " Bill says: " I can't, hey? Well I bet I can, and I '11 show you ! You need n't think you 're so smart ! " Georgie says: " You will, will you? All right! " BiU says : " Yes, I will, if you want to know ! " Georgie says : " M-hm ! As loud as a cannon." Bill says : " Oh, well, maybe not quite as loud as a reg'lar cannon. But anyhow, as loud as a re- vawlver." Bill is always saying " revawlver," and he says " hawler " instead of holler. I go back to the arch. My father is just putting the big basswood yoke on his shoulders. At the ends he has pieces of clothesline, with hooks. He carries two big pails at a time. The pails hold more than two wooden pailfuls. My father says : " You might come along, I guess, and empty the pails for me. Then I won't 120 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE have to stop and set the pails down so many times. Every little helps, you know." We go down into the hollow near the spring. There are five or six big, black-barked maples down there. The pails are running over. My father says : " I declare, how these black- barked ones do give down ! " He goes up to the trees one after another, and I pour the sap into his pails. My father says : " Look out ! Be careful and don't slop it ! You must n't forget it 's a sort of blood from the tree, and we must n't waste it." It makes a heavy load for my father, going up the hill to the arch. He is all out of breath when he empties the big pails into the barrel. I say : " Pa, why don't you use the stone boat, or the sleigh, or wheels, or something, with a barrel, like the Bradleys?" My father says : " Oh, I 'm 'fraid our sugar-bush is too uneven and stony for that." We start down the hill again. My father says: " And besides, I 've always done it this way, and I like to. We used to do it this way when I was a boy, 'way back where I come from." We go down to the black-barked trees again. When the big tin pails are full, my father says: " Well, that finishes the gathering for this time. But it 's running a good lively clip, and I spect I '11 have to begin to gather again to-morrow morning." 121 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We start back. My father says : " You see it 's quite a little work to make maple sugar." When we get up to the arch, my father empties the pails again. We sit down in front of the fire place and rest. We sit quite a while. At last my father says : " Well, I guess we better fix things up a little and go home to supper." He takes the big dipper and pours a lot of the hot sap out of the big black kettle into the sheet iron pan. He fills the kettle up with sap out of the barrel. Then he puts a few sticks into the fire, and fixes the big piece of sheet iron up in front of it. He says : " Well, come on ! I guess that '11 keep it boiling all right till I get back after chores." We start down the hill toward home. The sun is just going down. It looks bright red through the trees. The trees look black over that way, but the other way they are lighter. The air is fine and cool. My father says : " It '11 freeze again to-night. It 's beginning already. That 's just what we need for sugar frosty nights, and thaw in the day time." Our feet crunch on the snow. It is nice and easy walking when the snow is hard and almost gone this way. I say : " Pa, can I come along some night when you 're boiling down ? " My father says : " Yes, sometime when I 'm goin' 122 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE to get done earlier. It '11 be pretty late to-night, and your ma would n't want you out so long. There 's all that in the barrels, you see, and it '11 take quite a while." 138 XXII My Father and Mother Sugar Off, and Make Syrup I TUCK the mail into my inside pocket. Mr. White says : " 'S your father begun to make sugar yet? Seems to me this is the sort o' weather for it." I say : " Yes, he boiled down yesterday for the first time. We 're going to sugar off to-night, I guess." Mr. White says : " Say, tell him to save me a gallon o' syrup and two or three pounds of the sugar, will ye?" When we are through supper, my father says to my mother : " Well, shall we try to sugar off to night?" My mother says : " Well, 7 'm all ready. I s'posed of course you was going to." My father says : " All right, then. As soon as we come in from chores, le' 's begin." He gets up. He says : " I s'pose it might be heating while we 're gone. I '11 put some of it on, sha'n't I ? " My father gets the deep, black iron pan with the handles at the ends. My mother and I hold a piece of white cloth for him, and he pours one of the tin 124 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE pails full of syrup through. He brought them home last night after we were all asleep. It fills the pan half full. At the Bradleys' they sugar off in the sap-house. We always do it at home. My father says : " Of course it makes your ma a little more work, but all the things are here, and it 's handier. And then, I guess she kind o' likes to sugar off, anyway." I know my mother likes it. She says she 's always glad when maple sugar time comes. She says she used to have maple sugar when she was a little girl and played with the Indians. The Indians knew how to make it as well as anybody. They did n't have pails, but they made troughs with their axes. They cut a slanting gash in the side of the tree instead of boring a hole, and fixed a big chip so it would make the sap drop into the trough. My father fixes the fire. He takes the milk pails, and starts to go. He says : " Of course if it should begin to boil hard before I get back, you must kind o' see to it that it don't boil over." When my father gets back, my mother is skimming the syrup. I am just tall enough to look into the pan. There is quite a good deal of steam. The syrup is boiling up in two or three places where it is hottest. In one or two places there is scum. There is a nice smell in the room. The scum looks thick and white. My mother puts the skimmer under it, and lifts up. She holds it there 125 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE until the syrup does n't drop any longer, and then she lets the scum run off the skimmer into a white dish. The fire is blazing up good and hot. My father strains the milk and sets it away. He puts the pails and the strainer in the sink. My mother says : " I '11 wash the pails and things now. You better watch this, 'cause it 's boiling up good and hard." I go and look in again. It is boiling hard all over now. The scum gets together in one corner. My father skims it out once in a while. There is quite a little in the white dish. I get a spoon and push the top of the scum aside in the dish. It is brown when I get the white away. There is always a little syrup settles. I say: " Pa, what is scum made of? " My father says : " Hard tellin' what 't is made of. It 's impurities of some kind, I s'pose. But it don't seem to be real dirt." I taste of the scum. It tastes like syrup, only it is smooth, and not so sweet. The syrup under it is better. When I look in again, the pan is all brown, shiny bubbles everywhere. Most of them are little, but there are some big ones that break with a puff of steam. The syrup is getting thick. That 's what makes the bubbles. My father stands there all the time now. The syrup boils up so high that he has to stir it to make 126 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE it go down. Once in a while he slides the pan over to where the stove is n't quite so hot. If he let it alone, it would boil over onto the stove. The syrup did boil over once. Everyone ran, and my mother screamed. The}' pushed the pan back, and began to stir the syrup as soon as they could. It made .a great sputtering on the stove, and the room smelled of burned sugar for a long time. My mother said we always ought to have a little lump of pork on hand to throw in if it began to boil over. My father dips the skimmer in, and holds it up edgeways. The syrup drops off as if it were quite thick. My father says : " It '11 almost do for molasses now." He skims and watches it some more. Pretty soon he dips in and tries it again. He says : " Well, it 's ready now. Just take hold o' that end, will you, and le' 's see if we can't set it off." They set the pan on some papers on the floor. When the syrup is a little cooler, my father takes the dipper and tunnel and begins to pour it into the half gallon jugs. There are some gallon jugs, too. They are brown, and have big mouths and flat corks. They are so hot I can't hold my hand on them. My mother puts some of the syrup into glass jars. She sets them in the dripping-pan first, and puts the tunnel in the top. When she is all ready, she pours just the least bit in, and then the least bit more. She 127 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE says it would be the end of the jars if she put it in too fast. She screws the top on, and sets the jars on the window sill. They feel hotter than the jugs. We '11 have the syrup that is in the jars with bread and butter at supper when company conies, after maple sugar time is over. Sometimes we '11 boil some of it down and make sugar. My mother says : " As long as you have good bread and butter and maple 'lasses in the house, you need n't worry if company does come. They won't get good syrup like your pa's every day, I can tell 'em!" 128 XXIII MY father sets the pan back on the stove. He gets the other big tin pail and empties it in. My mother and I have it all ready for him. My father looks at me. He says : " Now for the sugar part. I s'pose you think that 's more inter esting." My mother pats me on the head. She says : " Of course you do, don't you ! " By and by she says : " Well, you can help me with the tins after a while, when your pa 's ready." My father fixes the fire again, and stands and watches and skims, the same as he did before. Only he has to be a little more particular at the end. When my father thinks the syrup is beginning to get thick, he tries it every little while by letting it drop from the edge of the spoon. The first time, it drops almost like water. After a while, it sticks to the spoon more. My father says : " S'posing you run out now and get a little snow. We '11 try it on that. Get some that 's good and clean ! " 129 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My mother gets me a basin. I run out and around to the north side of the house. Everywhere else the snow is gone. I scrape the top off the little bank that is left there near the water spout. It is hard, and feels almost like ice. It has thawed and frozen a good many times. I get some from under. It does n't take long. When I come back I am all out of breath. My father says : " I thought that would start you." My mother laughs. My father says : " Pack it down nice and hard, and we '11 begin operations." I pat the snow down all over. My father dips into the syrup, and puts a little on the snow. It melts a little hole, and sinks in out of sight. My father picks at the syrup in the hole with the point of the spoon. He says : " No, 't ain't thick enough yet." We wait quite a while longer. The bubbles in the pan get slower and slower, as if they were sticky. There are more big bubbles than before, and bigger puffs of steam when they break. The fine, warm, sugary smell is everywhere. My father says : " Well, le' 's try again now." I bring the basin. My father puts some more on. It begins to melt the snow, but it is thicker, and it does n't run into the snow at all. The edges of the syrup shrivel up a little. They look brownish yellow, and almost as clear as glass. When it gets that way, 130 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE we call it wax. I know just how it's going to taste. My father picks at the wax with his spoon. It sticks to the spoon, and comes out. He rolls it to gether a little, and it sticks again. He lifts it up. It leaves a nice little hole in the snow where it was. The hole has sharp edges, and they are a little bit brownish. My father reaches the spoon toward my mouth. The wax is fine and brown, but clear, too. He holds it up hTgh, and watches me. My mother begins to laugh. She says : " See how his eyes shine ! " My father says : " Open your mouth ! " I open it wide, and he puts the sugar in. I bring my teeth together, and he pulls the spoon away. He has to pull hard, and I almost fall over toward him. The sugar is fine and sweet, and so sticky that at first I can hardly get my teeth apart. Then it gets soft and smooth. My father says : " It '11 do now, sure 's you live ! Come on, le' 's set it off." They set the pan down on the papers again. My mother gets me a little syrup in a saucer, and says: " You can be eating this on the snow, if you want to, while your pa is waiting for it to cool." My father stirs the syrup back and forth in the pan with a long spoon. After a while it begins to 131 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE be not quite so clear. When he scrapes along the edges, there is a little of it beginning to flake and harden. He says : " I don't think it '11 be long now before it grains." My mother says : " Be careful and don't stir it too much ! You know you don't want it to look very white." She says to me : " Now we '11 butter the tins for him. They 're all clean and ready." My mother brings the tins from the buttery. Tip calls it the " pantry." I always make fun of him. He says " dining-room " for kitchen, too, sometimes, just like the folks from Town. The tins are small, and fit into one another, so you can pick up a whole lot of them at once. I get them apart. My mother fixes two little rags with butter, and we rub the insides of the tins. That is so the sugar will come out easy after it is cool and hard. Some of the tins are shallow, with smooth rims and bottom, and some are a little deeper and crinkled all around. We have them all ready, and my father pours them full of the hot sugar. He knows how to dip so the long spoon will just fill one tin. The sugar begins to cool and harden right away, but we are going to let it stand till to-morrow morn ing. Then we '11 take the tins and turn them bottom side up in our hands, and press on the bottom with our thumbs. That will make the sugar drop out into 132 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE our fingers. The crinkled tins make the prettiest cakes. When my father gets to the bottom of the pan, it is beginning to be thick and grainy. At the last, when he scrapes the sides and bottom with the spoon, it is real sugar. My father sets one of the crinkly tins off to one side. He says : " There ! That one '11 be for you. I s'pose you '11 have to have at least one, won't you? " I say: " Can I have one for Tip, too? " My father says : " Yes, I s'pose Tip '11 have to have one." I say : " He likes the crinkly ones, too." My father sets another of the crinkly ones out. My mother says : " Of course Spot '11 want a couple, you know. He '11 want to treat his sweet heart." My father says : " Oh pshaw ! " But he sets out two more tins. My mother says to me : " Ain't it about your bed time now ? " I can smell sugar away up stairs, after I am in bed. 133 XXIV My Brother Lets the Boys and Me Go to the Arch with Him TIP says: "We'll just wait out here till you go in and ast if he '11 let us." I run into the house. I slam the door, and say: "Where's Ted?" My mother is in the kitchen. She says : " I guess maybe you '11 find him out in the woodshed." I open the kitchen door and go out into the wood shed. My brother is cleaning the shotgun. He has been gathering sap to-day, and he always takes the gun with him. Sometimes he gets a squirrel. I say : " Can Tip and Bill and me and Georgie come out and boil down with you to-night ? " My brother wraps some cloth around the end of the ramrod, and pours some oil on it. Then he runs it into one of the barrels of the gun, and works it up and down. He does n't say anything. After a while I say : " Can we? " My brother changes the cloth, and runs the ramrod into the other barrel. I say again: " Can we? Huh? " A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My brother keeps on running the ramrod in and out. I begin to feel a little bit out of patience. I say again: "Can we? Huh? Can we?" I stand and wait a while longer. Then I say: " Come on! Why can't you answer a feller? Huh? Can we? Huh?" My brother does n't stop. He just says: " Tell 'em they got to bring some eggs if they come." I run out and tell them. Bill says : " I 'm goin' to bring some potatoes, too." Tip says : " Me too ! I 'm goin' to bring some salt. Eggs am' no good without salt." I say : " Be sure to come early, right after supper." At supper time, my father comes home from the sugar-bush. When we are through eating, he says to my brother : " Better go over to the arch before long. I '11 do the chores to-night. 'T won't do to leave the pan alone too long." We get ready to go. My father says : " I '11 be along about half past nine or ten, in time for you to come home and go to bed. I s'pose there '11 be enough left to take me till twelve or one o'clock." It is dark when we get to the woods. When we get in among the big trees, we can see a little spark of light on the hill where the arch is. My brother says : " That 's funny. I guess he did n't put the screen up very tight." We go up the hill. We begin to see the steam. 135 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The light is from a little place under the pan, where the stones don't come up close. My brother lights the lantern and looks at the sap in the pan. He gets the great big dipper, and pours some in out of the kettle. Then he takes a pail and fills the kettle from the barrel. He puts in some more wood. We sit down in front of the fire. My brother says : " When are they coming? Did you tell 'em about the eggs ? " I say: "Yah! They'll be here before long. They 're goin' to bring some potatoes and salt, too." We sit quite a while, looking at the screen. It gets red-hot in one place. It makes me feel queer, sit ting there in the dark, without any thing but sky and trees all around, and without any noise except the fire snapping and the pan boiling. Pretty soon we hear something up near the road. It sounds like someone stepping on the crust of the snow. I say : " I bet that 's Tip now ! " I get up and yell : " Yah-'oo ! " We can't hear the noise any more. I sit down. We begin to hear noises again. My brother says : " They 're sneakin' up. Pretty soon they '11 come runnin' in and try to scare us." 136 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Once in a while something snaps, and then it is still. We know it is one of them stepping on a dead limb. All of a sudden there is a long howl, like a wolf or something. Then there is another one farther off. Then it is all still again. I get up and yell : " Oh, 7 know who you are ! You need n't think you can fool me! " They howl again. I go out that way a few steps. It is all still. I come back again. The howls and the snappings get nearer. They are right around the other side of the sap-house. I know it is n't wolves, but I am glad my brother is here. At last Bill and Tip and Georgie come running as fast as they can, yelling. I say : " Aw, I knew it was you all the time." Bill says : " Oh yes, but you was scared all the same." I say : " I was not , scared! " Bill says : " Well, you need n't to go an' get mad about it, if you was n't." My brother says : " Did you bring the eggs ? " Tip says : " Here 's all I could find if they ain't smashed. I went and got 'em out of the chicken coop. Auntie '11 never know it." Bill says : " Here 's mine, and I got some pota toes, too." He says : " I could n't get any out of the chicken coop. I had to sneak into the pantry to get mine." 137 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Georgie says : " Your mother would n't care, though. You got such a lot o' chickens." We put the potatoes in the coals. My brother says he will watch them. He puts the eggs in the sap-house. He says : " We '11 have the potatoes first." 138 XXV We Bake Potatoes and Boil Eggs at the Arch BILL says : " Ask your brother if we can have a drink out o' the pan." I say : " Aw, you ask him yourself." My brother hears us. He says : " Yes, go ahead and drink some, if you want to." We have a drink, and then begin to play hide- and-seek. I don't like to be it. I have to hunt the boys too far away from the sap-house. It is dark out there, and the stumps look like bears. The boys keep so still it makes me nervous. After a while we play Indian. There are echoes when we yell. We tomahawk and scalp each other. We get some coals and make a little fire with twigs, and have a war dance around it. Georgie says : " Hoi' on, that makes me think ! Bill said he was goin' to make a hot coal crack like a cannon. Come on, le' 's see him do it now." Bill says : " All right, come on ! I s'pose you think I can't." Bill gets the hammer. He goes over to the screen and pokes out a big red coal. There is an old rail- 139 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE road iron that is a part of the arch right over where the screen goes. Bill gets two sticks, and lifts the coal up onto the iron. He leans over the coal, and spits on it. He says : " Now look out ! " He brings the hammer down on the coal. It does n't crack at all. Georgie says : " That 's a great noise like a can non, that is ! If I could n't do a better trick 'n that, I 'd go an' sell out. I knew you could n't do it ! " Bill says : " Just you wait a minute. That was n't no good coal." Bill tries it again, but it does n't make any bigger noise the second time. Georgie says : " Pf-f-f-f ! " Bill says : " Well, that iron 's a hot iron. I told you it took a cold one. If I had a cold iron, you 'd see ! " We laugh at Bill. My brother laughs, too. He sits in front of the fireplace, with his legs crossed and his hands in his pockets. Once in a while he gets up to skim, or to pour sap from the kettle into the pan. We play train. I take che lantern and sit on a pail inside the sap-house door. The sap-house is the caboose. Tip is the engineer. He shakes some pails to make the engine go. Bill is hind brakeman, and Georgie is middle brakeman. When we get to a station, I take the lantern and jump off and go into the telegraph office to register. Then I come out and swing the lantern for them to go ahead, and jump on when the caboose comes along. 140 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip puts on lots of steam. By the time I get on, it is going awfully fast. I almost get slung. My brother calls out : " The potatoes are done ! Come on now with your eggs ! " He puts the eggs in the dipper, and sets it down in the big pan. The steam is pouring out as thick as can be. My brother says : " If we 'd put 'em in without the dipper, maybe we 'd never find 'em again. It boils so hard they 'd roll all over everywhere, and maybe get busted." The potatoes are burned black on the outside. We break them open. They are n't done. The in side is hard, and terribly hot, and steams. We let them cool, and eat them with salt. They taste of the burned part. Georgie says : " I don't mind a little burned taste. I wisht they was a little doner, though." Tip says : " Oh, you don't want to mind a little thing like that ! You eat turnips and carrots raw. Why can't you eat potatoes the same? " After the potatoes, my brother sits a while looking at the fire. He does n't say anything. We stand around with our hands in our pockets. We are all thinking about the eggs. I begin to think of saying something about the eggs. Just then my brother takes his hands out of his pockets and uncrosses his legs. He says : " All right, le' 's have the eggs ! " 141 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The eggs are brown and sticky. Some of the shells are cracked. We peel them, and eat them with the salt. They are hard as can be. The yolks taste the best of all. The whites of the ones that are cracked taste sweet on the outside. We have two apiece, but my brother has three, and he says he wishes we had more. We have another big drink out of the pan. We cool it in the snow first. It is sweeter than ever. Bill says : " I bet you I '11 drink till I bust ! " We go and stand by my brother. All of a sudden he says : " Look a' here ! I tell you what you do. You go up to the henhouse and see if you can find some more eggs." I say : " Oh, that 's an awful long ways." Bill says : " Aw, come on ! 'T won't take long. We '11 be right back." My brother says : " Get two apiece if you can." When we get to the barn, we don't talk so loud. We keep looking over toward the house. I can see my father through the window. He is sitting by the stove, with the stand and light, reading. My mother is sitting near him. I suppose she is doing some crochet work. Bill says : " Would your pa care? What 'd you do if he come out and caught us here? " I say : " Oh, Tie would n't care ! But I don't want to go in and ask, that 's all." The hencoop is as dark as can be. I go along and 142 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE feel in the nests until I have eight. That 's all I can find. The roosters cackle a little when I come along. They are surprised to have anyone come in when it is so dark. One of my eggs is all I want. I give my brother the other one. That makes six in all for him. The other boys eat theirs, and then we all drink some more. Bill lifts up his vest and rubs his stomach. He says to Tip: "Feel o' that, will you? Four eggs, two potatoes, an' a gallon o' seerup." Bill always says " seerup " for syrup. He says : " I could n't drink any more an' if you 'd point a gun at me ! " Georgie gives him a poke in the stomach, and he jumps and doubles over. Pretty soon my brother says : " Listen ! " We all keep still. We hear a limb snap away down toward where the road comes from the house. Be fore long we begin to hear a crunching sound once in a while. My brother says : " I s'pose that 's pa coming." We stand there a while without saying anything. Then Bill says : " Well, I guess I '11 have to be goin'. My mother told me not to stay so very late." Tip says : " All right, I guess I '11 go along as far as the road." They start off. Georgie starts, too. He says to me: "Well, so long!" 143 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father comes up the hill. Pretty soon we begin to see him. He comes walking out of the dark. We can see his grey whiskers and his felt hat. Then we can see his old coat. It is blue, and fuzzy, with bands of black and a fuzzy belt. My mother makes fun of it, but my father says he does n't care, it 's warm and comfortable. 144 XXVI I Spend an Evening at the Arch with My Father MY father says: "That's so, 'tis Friday night. I declare, here 's another week o' school gone ! " He says : " No, I don't see why you should n't go along, if your ma '11 let you." My mother says : " Hi, do you really think he ought to go with you ? It '11 be awfully late when you get home." My father says : " Oh, I don't expect it '11 be so very late. Anyway, it won't hurt him to be up one night. Let the boy go if he wants to ! " I say : " To-morrow 's Saturday, anyway, and I don't have to get up to go to school." My mother does n't say anything. My father says : " Well, come on, then ! It 's pretty near eight o'clock. Le' 's get started. He '11 think we 're never comin'." My brother is all ready to go when we get to the arch. He says : " I just skimmed and filled in from the kettle, and fired up. It won't need anything now for quite a while. It 's all out o' the barrel." 145 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " All right ! I s'pose you can go then." My brother starts down the path toward home. When he gets just past the bottom of the hill, though, I can see him turn off to one side. I can hear him going through the trees toward Edie's house. Every little while we hear him step on a dead limb. My father says : " Yes, there he goes again ! I declare, I should think the widow would get sick of him!" By and by he says : " Well, I guess she is, 'cord ing to what they say she says. She acts as if she was 'fraid they 'd want to get married." I say: " But they won't, will they? " My father says : " Humph ! Well, I guess not! " We sit down in front of the fire. We have the old buffalo robe on the seat. The warm from the sheet iron screen feels good. Once in a while I turn side ways, to let my back get a little of it. I stick my feet up near the screen. They begin to steam. My boots and stockings are always soaked through by night. We don't say a great deal. My father is n't much of a talker, except when he gets a-going on religion or temperance. He likes to read. He has some books the ministers don't like. One of them is Pre- Adamite Man. He takes The Truth Seeker. Once Grandpa Tyler borrowed F 're- Adamite Man, and said he liked it. 146 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The steam rolls out of the pan a little to one side, and then goes up almost straight. It does n't look so white in the dark as it does in the daytime. The smoke from the chimney makes a sort of shadow up above, or something that makes me think of one. I can't see the tree branches and the sky so plainly where it goes up. The sap-house is black. We can see only part of it, on account of the steam. The fire snaps, and the sap in the pan makes a simmering noise that keeps getting louder and louder. When my brother put all the wood in before we came, it stopped boiling, and now it is getting ready to begin again. Pretty soon we can hear it begin to boil and bub ble harder. I like the sound. There is n't any other noise, except when a rig goes along the road, or Howe's old Don barks at something. Sleighing is all gone now. It is as still as can be behind us, and above, and all around. The sky is clear and blue, and there are lots of stars. The branches of the trees show against it. They look black. I look straight up over my head. There are only the ends of a few branches there. The sky looks ever so dark blue up there, and the stars are ever so bright. There are a few big ones, and all the little ones, and the Milky Way. I say : " Pa, how many stars are there? " My father says : " Oh, don't ask me! I don't s'pose anyone 's ever counted 'em all." 147 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE After a little while he says : " And then, as soon as you look through the telescope, they say a lot more come into sight. I don' s'pose there 's any end to 'em." I sit and think about the stars. I look up there, and wonder how the earth can be rolling and going so fast and we not notice. But mostly we look at the screen. It is an old one. It has been there ever since the arch was built. The edges are thin and cracked, and let out some of the light from the fire. There are some holes here and there in the middle, too. They make bright gold spots. One or two are so big that we can see the blaze behind. When the fire gets to going hard, part of the screen gets red- hot. We talk a little while about school. We talk about Nicholas Nickleby after that. My father brought it from Town last time. He says : " I wish we could afford more books. But it takes money." I say : " Maybe we '11 have more after we get that part of the old back lot cleared up." My father says : " Maybe we will. It ought to make good wheat ground. But it '11 take a lot o' work. And I ain't as spry as I used to be." I sit and look at the holes in the screen. Pretty soon my father says : " I hope you won't have to drudge the way I 've had to. I 've had to do a lot of hard work in my day, and sometimes when I 148 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE was n't really equal to it." He says : " I want you to be a lawyer. I might have been a lawyer if I 'd only had an education. But I never got much schoolin', except what I give myself when I was clerkin' for Haney in Batavia. I used to sit up after the day's work was done." After a while we talk about Aunt Caty and Uncle Danel, and Uncle Abe, and early times. Aunt Caty is my father's sister. She and Uncle Danel live nine miles away, in the town of New Harlem. They and my father and Uncle Abe all came from York State 149 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE forty years ago. Aunt Caty has a lot of sons and daughters. They are my cousins, but they are so old that it seems as if they must be my uncles and aunts instead. Uncle Abe is dead. My father says : " When Abe and I kept bache lor's hall over in New Harlem, I always used to do the cookin'. I always went home first and got dinner. I could tell from the way I felt just how much Abe could eat. If I wanted about three potatoes, I knew he 'd want about five. If I felt like one big piece o' pork, I knew he 'd want two medium-sized ones. That 's the way it was with everything." I say : " What did Uncle Abe die of ? " My father says : " He got pneumonia." I say : " That 's something about lungs, ain't it?" My father says : " Yes, pneumonia means inflam mation of the lungs." He laughs. He says : " In formation of the lungs, as old Cap Swann calls it. It 5 s like a good hard cold, only a lot worse." We sit and look at the holes a long time. I say : " Are we going over to Aunt Caty's again before long? " My father says : " Oh, I spect we '11 go over one o' these days, after sugar time is over." He says : " But the roads ain't always good in spring, and it 's quite a ways. It 's better goin' in the fall." 150 XXVII We Boil Down, and Take the Syrup Home MY father sits up straight. He says : " Well, I guess we better fire up. First thing we know, we '11 be losin' time." He gets up and picks up the big wooden poker. It is all black at one end. He says : " Look out, now! I I get up and stand at one side, by the end of the seat. My father tips the screen back, and it falls down. It makes a great light, and at first I have to look the other way. There is a great high bed of coals inside. In some places I can see the shape of the sticks before they were burned. They have dark lines across them. That is where they are going to fall apart. The coals are bright yellow, and almost white in some places, and in some places almost red. There is blaze, too, but not much. The blaze is blue in some places, and yellow in others. It is so hot I have to get farther away. My father goes up quickly and stirs the coals all together, so they are even. Some of them look black where they are broken, and have red rims. My father throws a 151 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE few of the long basswood sticks in. It is n't so hot after that. He packs the fireplace full. We sit down again. My father leaves the screen where it is. He says : " Let it have a good draft first, and then we '11 shut it up again." The sap in the pan has stopped boiling. My father says : " Now '11 be a good time to skim." There is steam, but he can see where the scum is. He holds the lantern up over the edge. The sap looks black, and there are two islands of scum on it. My father skims them off, and throws the scum on the ground. It is n't like the scum when we sugar off. There are little pieces of bark and things in it, even if they do have mosquito netting over the barrels when they pour in. My father says : " Beats all how little pieces of things '11 get in ! Of course it ain't real dirt, but then we don't want it in, even if it ain't." He fills in from the kettle. Once more, and there won't be any left in the kettle. The barrels were empty before we came. We begin to hear the wood snap and crackle. There is a big light on the seat and trees in front of the fireplace. Sometimes it lights up the trees away down the hill. We sit down again. The blaze is so bright we can hardly look at it. It makes our faces hot. Once in a while a stick pops like everything, and there is a " s-s-s-s-ss ! " My father says it is because some of 152 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the wood is n't seasoned. There is moisture in it. By and by he says : " Well, it 's goin' hard enough now to shut up the draft." He leans over a little, and lifts the screen up with the poker. We sit and look at the holes in the screen again. They are ever so yellow and bright. They get red der. The screen gets red-hat. The sap in the pan boils harder than ever, and the steam rolls away from the edge of the pan as thick as can be. I say: "Won't it boil over? " My father says : " No, 't ain't likely. It never boils over unless it 's thick, like syrup." We sit a long time without talking much. I get up and go after the lantern, and stand at the edge of the pan. The steam goes rolling out and up. It makes me think of the big white clouds in summer. I hold my hand in it. The steam is nice and warm. I take my hand out. It is wet, and soon feels cool. I go around to the other side, and s,tand in the middle of the steam. It warms and moistens my face. It smells warm, and like sap that is brown. When I come out, my face is moist and cool. I sit down again. We don't talk at all now. My father is leaning on one elbow, looking at the holes. I look at him once in a while, and then I look at the holes, too. My father's shoulders are stooped a little. I feel as if I 'd like to do something for him. I like him 153 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE better than anyone, except maybe my mother. I am afraid he does n't feel happy. After a long time, I begin to wonder whether I won't get sleepy. Just then my father gets up. He holds the lantern over the edge of the pan and looks in. He says : " 'T ain't goin' to be so very long now." I get up and look. Where it boils, we can see that it is quite brown. My father pours a little out of the dipper. It looks almost black, but that is on account of its being so dark everywhere. By and by my father goes and tips the screen back. The wood is all turned to coals. They have white ashes on them where they are near the sides of the arch. My father begins to get ready to take the pan off. He lays two boards from the arch over onto a long saw-horse that always stands there. They are quite a long way apart, and at one end they are on the stones right next to the side of the pan. My father says : " Now it 's all ready to take off. S'pose you can help me a little? " We slide the big pan off the fire onto the boards. The inside of the arch glows. We can feel the heat. As soon as the pan is off, it almost stops steaming. My father says : " All right now, bring me the pails and the dipper." He dips the syrup out. It makes a different sound from water or sap when he lets it fall into the big tin 154 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE pails. It sounds thick and hot, and does n't spatter, like water or sap. When the syrup is nearly all out, there is a place in the middle that is lower than the rest. The dipper makes a scraping sound when my father scoops there. There is just a little that my father can't get. I am glad of it. Tip and I always like to come next day and get it. By that time it is thick, and we just kink our fingers, and scrape it up. It tastes best of all that way. My father puts the yoke on his shoulders and catches the pail handles with the hooks. He says : " Now for home and bed ! " I take the lantern and go ahead, to show the way. We go through the big trees and out across the ten- acre lot, and are soon home. The old leach looks white. It makes me think of ghosts. The house and barn are all dark, and every thing is as still as can be. My father sets the pails down in the kitchen, and puts a couple of newspapers over them. We go into the sitting room. He pokes the fire and puts in a couple of chunks, and fixes the damper and the draft. I sit down behind the stove and get my boots off. I sit right on the floor, and start them by pushing with one foot on top of the other. They always stick at the heels and ankles, because my feet are always wet. The clock begins to strike twelve. I set my boots up straight behind the stove, and lay my stockings 155 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE on the tops. They will be dry by morning, but the boots will be awfully stiff. I kiss my father good night, and run up stairs. When I am in bed, I keep thinking of the steam, and the holes in the screen, and my father in the seat in front leaning on his elbow, and the woods without leaves, and all the stars up above the trees. I can smell the syrup in the pails down stairs just a little bit. I get warmer and warmer in bed. It is nice and comfortable. I go to sleep thinking of the steam and the simmering, and the noise the sap makes when it boils, and the bright holes in the screen. 156 XXVIII / Hunt for Mayflowers, and See My Brother and Edie MAPLE sugar time is all over. It does n't freeze now at night, and it is too warm in the daytime. There are beginning to be little red buds on the maple branches. The snow has been gone quite a while. There is n't any even in the corner by the tree behind the sap-house. The leaves on the ground are dry and loose. If anyone is walking in them, you can hear it a long way off. Nearly all the pails and spiles are in the sap-house. There are just a few left. They are turned bottom side up. You can see them a long way off, because they are different colors. My father left them be cause he was in a hurry to get to work on the land. My brother is cultivating now, in the lot next to the sugar-bush, between it and the bush. He is using the old cultivator, the one with the handles. It is n't one of the kind you can ride on. Uncle Anthony does his cultivating with the seeder. He does n't ride, though. He says it is hard enough on the horses as it is. 157 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I am looking for Mayflowers. I always like to surprise my mother with the first ones. She says she supposes we ought to call them hepaticas. In a great many places I can see the leaves that belong to them, and when I pull the dry tree leaves and twigs away I can see the flower buds. I have n't found any flowers yet, though. The buds are pinkish, and woolly. The ground smells like dirt and dead wood when I uncover it. I walk along slowly, looking all the time. I look at the ground on the south sides of the trees, because it is sunnier on that side. The air is warm. The warmth comes up to my face from the leaves. It smells sweet, as if there were flowers somewhere, but I can't find any. I run across a pail that has n't been turned bottom side up. It is nearly full of sap and water. I can tell by the white on the pail inside that the sap is spoiled. I can smell it, too. It is sour. There are honey bees buzzing around the pail. They always like sap. They are from Howe's, I suppose. One of the bees comes down fast and strikes the inside of the pail, and falls in. I watch him, and hope he will get out all right. He floats, and kicks, but stays right there. I am sorry for the bee. I don't stop to think, but put my finger under him and lift him out. I feel a terrible sting. I jump, and snap my finger. I 158 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE don't know what becomes of the bee. I dance around, holding on to my finger with my other hand, and put ting it in my mouth, and snapping it. I say : " Durn you ! That 's the last time I '11 ever help a bee!" My finger swells a little. I make some mud and put it on. In a few minutes it feels better. I turn the pail bottom up, and go on toward the edge of the woods. I keep on looking for Mayflowers. All the time, I hear my brother cultivating. He says : " Gee ! " and " Haw ! " and " Giddap ! " a great deal. By and by I hear someone walking in the leaves up toward Edie's house. My brother is at that end of the field now, close to the woods. I don't hear him cultivating. Pretty soon I hear him walking in the leaves. Then I hear someone laugh. I know from the laugh that it is Edie. Besides, I can see them. They are looking for Mayflowers, too. Every little while they stop, and stand there together. Edie has her white apron and blue dress on. She is bareheaded. I make up my mind there are n't any Mayflowers in the woods yet. I think of the brush, on the other side of the field. The brush slopes south, and they ought to blossom earlier there. I start for the field. When I get almost to the horses, my brother and Edie stop talking and laugh ing. Then I hear someone on the other side of them 159 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE walking through the leaves quite fast. At first I thought they stopped because they did n't want me to hear. I look as hard as I can through all the trees. I see Edie's mother coming up to them. My brother and Edie stand looking at her, as if they did n't know what to do. She has a brown sunbonnet on. It makes her look as if she had no neck. Edie's mother stands right near them. She talks quite a long time. I can hear her, but I can't tell what she says. I know when it is " No " or " Yes " or " What? " but that is all. I wish I knew what she was saying. By and by Edie and her mother start home. My brother stands there a little while. When Edie's 160 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE mother is almost at the fence they have to climb over, she turns around and begins to talk again. She talks louder this time. I hear her say : " Now, mind ! I tell you it 's got to be stopped ! You are both of you too young to be going on in this way." My brother stands between the cultivator handles quite a while, leaning on them with his hands. He has the lines around his shoulders. He is looking at the big clevis down near the old mares' heels. I look at the clevis, too. There is n't anything the matter with the clevis. Then I look at my brother. Then I look at the clevis again. My brother is n't looking at the clevis, after all. He is just thinking. I say : " What 's the matter ? Huh ? " My brother does n't answer me. The old mares stand with their heads hanging down and their eyes half shut. I sit down on the cultivator. By and by I ask again: "What was the matter with her? Huh?" My brother keeps on standing there, looking at the clevis. I say: "Hu-u-uh?" My brother stands up straight, and pulls on the lines. The old mares wake up. He says : " Oh, you go along ! You would n't know if I told you. Gid- dap ! " He won't tell me anything. I go up into the brush. After a long time, just when I am not thinking anything about them, all at once I see some Mayflowers. I jump toward them 161 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE and sit down on my toes, and pick them. There are five or six. They are dark blue inside, and light blue outside, with tiny pointed green leaves around the cup. Inside are little yellow things, like grains of corn meal on stems. I keep thinking how surprised my mother will be, and how she will like the flowers. I hold the flowers in a tight little bunch. I keep smelling of them as I go on looking for more. Pretty soon I find another cluster, and then some more right where the road turns out toward the house. Some are pink, and some white. When they are all together they are as pretty as can be. They have the nicest smell I know. When I go into the house I hold the Mayflowers behind my back. My mother is writing at the secre tary desk. She is writing her diary for yesterday, the way she does every day. I walk up behind her. All of a sudden I hold the Mayflowers right under her nose. She jumps, and jerks her head back to see what it is. She says: " O-o-oh, Mayflowers ! " She takes them, and begins to smell of them. She says : " M-m-m-m ! Oh, ain't they just the nicest little flowers you ever saw? I 'm always so glad when they come again ! " When my mother smells of the flowers, she draws long breaths, so that I can hear. She knows I like it when she makes a fuss over the first flowers. I stand and look at my mother and the flowers. She says : " What '11 we get to put them in? " 162 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE She thinks a while. She says : " / '11 tell you what '11 be nice. We '11 put 'em in one of the little white saucers. I like 'em better spread out that way. Don't you?" I run out and bring a saucer. My mother fixes the Mayflowers in it. Then she goes out to the kitchen and pumps a little fresh rain water in. She sets the saucer on the table in the front room. Every time we come in we can smell Mayflowers. XXIX I Help My Mother Clean up the Front Yard MY mother says : " I want you to help me rake the front yard, Bug. We '11 begin right away, and then we can get done by bed time. Run out and get the garden rakes ! " We begin at the house, and rake toward the road. There is a lot of long, dead grass. The rake sticks in the grass, and sticks in the ground. I have to pull a great deal. Under the hickory there is a lot of shucks and leaves. Under the evergreens there are needles, and dry leaves are scattered almost everywhere. The flower beds are covered with leaves and dead stalks. We get so much dead stuff together that it is hard to rake it along. My mother says : " When we get quite a lot of it together, we '11 leave a little pile. We can get it with the wheelbarrow afterward." It is quite a long time before we get over the whole yard. When we are through, my mother says : " Well, I s'pose I '11 have to get some supper for the men folks. But they ain't a-going to get much to night, I can tell 'em ! " 164 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE She says : " While I 'm getting supper on, you can wheel the piles of stuff out to the side of the road. Make a nice big pile, and after dark we '11 have a bonfire." My mother comes to the front door and calls me when supper is ready. She comes out and stands on the veranda. She says : " Don't it look just too spick and span for anything? I feel like staying out here all the time and enjoying it." We go in to supper. My mother says to my brother : " After you 're through supper will you come out and spade up my flower beds for me? You can do it so much quicker. And we want to be get ting some barnyard dirt while you 're doing that." My brother keeps on eating. He does n't look up. My mother says : " 'T won't take but a minute." My brother eats some more. He says : " Oh, I s'pose I '11 have to." After supper I bring the wheelbarrow around. My mother puts the two hoes into it, and we go down to the barnyard. My mother says : " Now we must get some that 's nice and black and crumbly." I begin to hoe. My mother says : " No, that won't do ! That 's too coarse and full of manure. We want nice, rich, clean dirt." I have to try a good many places before my mother is satisfied. Then we scrape together quite a heap. My mother says : " I guess you need n't go after 165 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the shovel. We '11 just lift it in with the hoes. 'T won't take long." Pretty soon she says : " There, I should n't won der if that was all you can wheel. Try it, and see." It is all I can do to get up the slope through the gate with it. We go around in front of the house. We spread some of the dirt on the verbena bed, and some on the portulaca bed. We get the rest and put it on the petunia bed. When we are through, my mother says : " Now sha'n't we go out to the brush and get a load of black dirt? It's just what my geraniums need. It's so nice, from around the roots under the leaves." The brush is just beginning to get green. In a few weeks there will be so many leaves and flowers that you can hardly see anything. The ground will be covered with lilies and j ack-in-the-pulpits and man drakes and ferns. I know just how it will feel in there, all warm and moist. The leaves and twigs won't crackle when you walk. We scrape up a load, and go back. My mother goes in at the back door. She comes out onto the veranda by the time I get around in front. She has her arms full of geraniums. She raised some of them from slips, on the kitchen window sill. She has a trowel and a case knife. My brother has all the spading done. We stop by the geranium bed. The dirt smells moist. My mother says it has a spring smell. I see some angle- 166 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE worms in it, and it makes me want to go fishing. My mother digs a hole with the trowel, and puts in a trowelful of the dirt from the brush. She takes the case knife and runs it around the inside of the pot. That gets the geranium out with all its dirt. She sets it down in the hole, and puts some more of the dirt from the wheelbarrow around it. Then she packs in the dirt from the flower bed. When we get done, there are geraniums all over the bed except on the outside. My mother says: " I 'm going to have foliage plants for a border. I '11 get 'em next time I go to Town." There is a little of the black dirt left. We put some on the bleeding heart bed, and some on the piny bed. The folks from Town call it "peony." The bleeding hearts are three or four inches high already. They have light green leaves, and pink stems. It is almost dark. We light the leaves and grass in the pile. They make a lot of thick smoke. The pile gets afire all over the outside, but does n't burn up high. We keep stirring it with the rakes. Our hands smell smoky. My mother says : " If we could have a smudge like this in mosquito time, I guess they would n't bother us very much." The pile is all burned down at last. We go up the walk to the house. We sit down on the veranda. My mother says : " There, we got ahead of your pa for once! He ain't got his raspberries trimmed 167 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE yet. I don't know what '11 happen to him next he 's so particular about having everything done up to the handle." By and by we hear my father come into the house. He comes to the front door, and sees us. My mother says : " Come out and sit down a while, and see how spick and span the front yard is. We beat you this time." My father says : " It does look fine, and no mis take about it." He comes and sits down near me. He leans over, and lets his hands hang down between his knees. He does n't say much. He looks tired, and it makes me feel sorry for him. 168 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE By and by my mother says : " Well, you better take care of the tools now. It 's about time to go to bed." I put the rakes and hoes into the wheelbarrow, and start around the corner of the house. My mother says : " Don't forget to give your feet a good wash- ing!" I draw up a bucket of water and pour it out. There is a spout, with a pail under it. I put in one foot at a time. The water is cold. When I start for the woodshed door, the planks feel nice and warm. 169 XXX My Father Sows Wheat, and We Attend to the Berry Patches MY brother has just begun to drag. They al ways drag before sowing wheat. He has been up and down once or twice already. My father is getting ready to sow. He has two or three bags of wheat at the end of the field. He takes wheat out of them and puts it into the bag he sows from. He holds the bag so that the wheat is under his left arm. He holds the mouth of it open with his left hand, and takes the wheat out and sows it with his right hand. He has a stake standing at the other end of the field, to sight by. Every time his left foot comes down, his hand goes into the bag, and every time his right foot comes down, he sows. It makes a swishing sound. My father makes me think of the picture in one of the books I used to read in. That was on my moth er's knee, before I went to school. It began like this : " It is spring. Now the farmer sows his seed." When my father gets to the stake he pulls it up and 170 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE sticks it into the ground where he can sight from it next time. He has a stake at the other end, too. He always paces off the distance to where he wants to set it. There are a good many robins hopping about. They are eating wheat and worms. One of them gets hold of a big, long worm, and has a hard time swal lowing it. I say : " The robins '11 eat so much there won't be any wheat come up." My father says : " Oh, they won't get a great deal. Pretty soon the drag '11 cover it up, so they '11 have to scratch lively to find any at all." My brother gets through dragging for my father to sow. Now he has to begin all over again and drag after him. Then he will have to cross-drag it. After that, he '11 run the smoother over it. Most people have a roller. The smoother is made of planks bolted together. They are fixed so they slant, and crush the lumps better. Sometimes we call it the crusher instead of the smoother. When my brother runs it, he puts a nail keg or a chair on it, and sits down. I always jump on and off while he is going. My father finishes the sowing. He says : " Now I guess I '11 go up to the house and 'tend to the rest of the berry patch." He says to me : "I guess you better come with me, and finish uncovering the strawberries. You could 171 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE do that, could n't you ? Then they '11 be all ready for the next warm rain." We walk across the ten-acre lot toward the house. The ten-acre lot is seeded down to clover, and the clover is coming up fine and green this year. Our feet brush in it. My father puts on his buckskin mittens, and takes his clippers. The clippers have a spring, so they open themselves every time he clips a shoot. He goes along the raspberry rows and cuts out all the dead stalks. He clips off the ends of the others. The leaves are half out. They are bright green, and crinkly. I get the wooden rake and begin to pull the straw off the strawberry vines. They are next to the rasp berry patch. I rake it off into the place between the rows. When we pick, there will be nice clean straw to kneel on. The chaff gets in among the vines, too, and keeps the berries from getting dirty. The rows look brown and black now, but the green leaves are coming. When I get through with the strawberries, my father is just through with the raspberries. I go over to where he is. He says : " There are a good many tips that caught this year. There '11 be plenty of sets. See 'em?" I can see the sets. The branches of the bushes grow long in summer, and lots of them have their ends A COUNTRY CHRONICLE reach down and begin to grow in the ground. All you do is cut the branch down low, and take it up with the trowel where it went into the ground, and set it out. They catch better if the ground is cultivated, or if you bury the tips. My father says : " You might run to the barn now and get me the four-tined fork." He goes along and gets all the dry stalks and tips into forkfuls, and makes a heap. I go in and get a newspaper and some matches. I put the paper into one side of the pile, and get ready to strike a match. My father calls : " Not on that side ! I thought you knew better than that. On the side the wind comes from." The briars make a big fire and a lot of smoke. They crackle and hiss like everything. When the fire gets to going hard, you can see the pile sink, it burns so fast. There is hardly anything left when the fire is out. I rake through the ashes, and there is only the least little bit of red. My father says : " There, don't the patch look nice and neat and clean ? And you 've fixed up the strawberry patch first class, too." We stand and look. By and by he says : " Some folks don't take good care of their berries. But I like to see 'em well 'tended to. And then, besides, you don't get more 'n half a crop if you neglect 'em." 173 XXXI We Pick up Stone, and I Go with My Brother After Redhorse TO-DAY I have to help pick up stone. It is getting so I have to do things almost every Saturday. Tip and I don't like it. My father says to my brother : " If you want to go after redhorse to-day, you '11 have to flax around. We 've got to finish that lot before I can let you go." The plum trees are in blossom. That is always the sign that redhorse are running. My brother always gets excited about them. We go out to the barn and hitch up. I attend to some of the tugs. We take the wagon with the dumpboards. We go through the brush to the big lot that slopes north. The river and the railroad tracks are in sight down there. We can see the banks reflected in the water. We begin as soon as we get through the brush. My father and I pick up on one side, and my brother on the other side. We get four or five stones in our hands and on our arm, and then throw them on the 174 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE dumpboards. Once in a while my brother drives along a little farther. I don't like picking up stone. The ground is so lumpy it is hard walking, and the stones are dirty and heavy. My brother does n't like it any better than I do. He is always grumbling about it. He says: "What's the use, anyway? There'll be just as many next time. Look at 'em now, after all we picked up last year ! " My father says : " Yes, I know, but 't would n't do to leave 'em all for the ma chine to go over when we 're harvestin'. We got to get the biggest ones off, anyway the ones that T - ., ^"" sire high enough for the sickle to strike. I don't s'pose Uncle Anthony 'd cut for us at all if we did n't clear away the stone a lit tle." Uncle Anthony cut our wheat and oats last year 175 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE and the year before. My father says he does n't suppose he '11 ever get a reaper as long as Uncle Anthony is willing to do it for us. Cradling is too hard for him. My brother says : " I s'pose the darn things keep coming up from down in under. Every time we plow it seems as if there were more than ever. Or else they grow, like potatoes ! " By and by he says : " You 'd think to look at the ground where we been that it was clean. But you just wait till it rains! You'll see 'em by the hun- derd again ! " My father says : " You know what Uncle An thony says about the stones." I say: "No. What?" My father says : " That the devil was comin' across the country around here with his apron full o' stones, and the string broke." My brother says : " Well, I wisht it had n't, that 's all / got to say ! " When we get to the other end of the lot, we throw the stones over the fence into the back lot. If we have a load before we get there, we throw them onto one of the stone piles. There are woodchucks in all the stone piles. A good many briars grow there. The river is in plain sight from the fence. My brother and I stand and look at it. The willows are getting green. We see somebody walking along the bank. Somebody else is standing still in one place. 176 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE He has a spear in his hand, all ready to throw when he sees a redhorse. My brother says : " He 's standing by the rif fles." That 's a stony place where the redhorse come. We get the stones done just in time for dinner. After dinner, my brother gets the spear. We go through the brush and across the lot where we picked up stone, and down through the back lot. When we get across Newbecker's marsh to the railroad track, my brother says : " Now you stay back and keep still a minute. Maybe there '11 be one under the bridge." He stoops down as far as he can, and crosses the track without making a noise. He creeps over to one side of the bridge and looks down into the water. Then he goes over to the other side. One of the planks is up, and next he looks down through there. He motions that I can come. This is n't a railroad bridge. It is only the plank bridge Newbecker draws his marsh hay across. My brother lies down flat on his stomach, with his head over the side. He holds the spear so that it points straight down. The prongs are right near the water. I lie down near him just the same way. I want to see him get one. We lie there a long time. I don't dare move, I am so afraid my brother will scold. The water runs fast, and makes ripples. It is so 177 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE clear you can see everything. There are stones in the bottom, and a log bedded away down in them. I begin to think we are n't going to get one, when all of a sudden my brother's spear goes down with a splash. It strikes the log hard. At the same time I see something streak through the water up stream. I know it was a redhorse. My brother holds the spear still with both hands. We look down at the bottom. There is something reddish wiggling there. My brother waits a while. He says : " Out o' the way, now ! " He works the spear a little to get it out of the log. He begins to lift it carefully, but only a little. Then he brings it up sideways in a hurry, out onto the bridge. There is a redhorse flopping on it. The redhorse's back is reddish dark grey, and his belly yellowish white, and he has red fins. There is blood on him. The fins and the blood are so red that it makes him seem red all over. He has a round mouth, with thick lips, like a sucker. My brother puts his foot on the redhorse and pulls the spear out. There is more blood comes out. The redhorse does n't flop now. My brother says : " Ain't he a fine one ? There was five or six of 'em come sailing along right aside of one another, and this was the biggest of all of 'em. He happened to come right under the spear, and I let drive just in time." 178 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I say : " I could see one of 'em scoot away. He went like a streak o' lightning." My brother says : " Well, le' 's lay down again, and see if we can't get another one." We lie there a long time, but we don't see any more. We go up the track to the red bridge, and lie down and watch there. My brother says : " No use waitin' here ! I don't believe any '11 come along. We '11 go down to the riffles." We stand by the riffles so long that I get tired and want to go. My brother says : " All right, le' 's go ! We need n't feel so bad if we don't get any more. This is a mighty fine redhorse." He carries the fish with his fingers caught under the gills. Its tail brushes the ground. 170 XXXII My Brother and Edie Are Missing MY eyes open. I hear my mother calling my brother. She says : " Come, old sleepyhead ! Your pa 's called you twice already, and you '11 get a scolding. You know he 's in a dreadful hurry about his corn." My brother does n't answer. I lie a while, ex pecting to hear his bed-cords creak. I go to sleep again. I wake up again. My father is calling up the stairs. He says : " Come ! Come ! Come ! How long 'fore you 're goin' to help me with this milkin'? We want to get at that corn ! " My father starts away from the door. I hear him say : " Confound that boy, anyway ! I wish I knew some way to hurry him." After a while I get up. I go out into the barn yard. My father is milking the old red cow. I stand watching. The pail has deep foam in it. I like the sound of the milk. There is Mayweed all around. The dew is on it yet. The mosquitoes keep lighting on my father's shoulders. He tries to rub them off with his cheek. 180 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The old cow switches her tail, and swings her head around. My father says : " I guess before long you '11 have to learn to milk. Then I '11 know what to de pend on." I stand rubbing my leg with my foot. The mos quito bites itch. I say : " When I learn, I got to have a stool." My father does n't have a stool. He says it 's all nonsense. He just sits on his toes. I hear someone coming up behind us in the May weed. I look around. My father looks around, too. It is Edie's mother. We begin to wonder. Edie's mother comes up slowly. She holds her skirts up, and lifts her feet, on account of the dew. She looks pale. We wonder more than ever. Edie's mother says : " Good morning to you ! " My father says : " Good morning," too. He looks as if he did n't know what to make of it. When Edie's mother gets a little nearer, the old red cow walks off. Edie's mother says : " There, I 've scared your cow, but I My father says: " Never mind, I was just about done, anyway. I was only goin' to give her a couple o' strips more." He keeps on sitting there, looking at her. He has the pail between his knees. 181 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Edie's mother says : " I 've come down to see whether your son is at home this morning or not." My father looks surprised. He says : " Why, yes, I s'pose so ! But he ain't up yet. I tried two or three times to rouse him, but 't wa'n't no use. He 's an awful sleeper in the morning ! " Then he says: "Why?" Edie's mother says : " Are you quite sure he 's there? Did he answer when you called him? Be cause my Edie is gone. Her bed is made the same as when she went up stairs last night, and I can't think of anyone would know where she is except your son." She begins to cry. My father jumps up. He says : " Well, well, well ! We '11 have to see about this." I begin to feel scared. My father says to me : " You might run ahead and see if your ma can't find him." I run to the house as fast as I can. I am all out of breath by the time I get to the kitchen. My mother is just stirring the potatoes in the spider. I say : " Ma, Edie run away and her mother says she thinks Ted is gone with her! Is he up yet?" My mother drops the knife. She says: "Well, I declare ! " She stands there with her hands hang ing. She says : " Run up stairs, quick ! and see if he 's there!" 182 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I open the stair door and run up. I stop at my brother's door and listen. I say : " Ted ! " I lis ten again. Then I say it again. My brother does n't answer. I push the door open and go in. The bed is all made. The curtains are up, and it is all light. I run down stairs. My father and Edie's mother are just coming in. I say : " He ain't there ! The bed 's all made ! " Edie's mother sits down and begins to cry. She says : " I knew that was how it would be." My father and mother don't say anything. They look at the floor. My father bites his nails. Edie's mother stops crying a little. She says: " Oh, why couldn't you have kept him from doing it? " Then she begins to cry again. My father says : " Why, we never had the least idea it would come to anything like this. I could n't be more surprised if I was to be shot ! " My mother says : " Well, anyway, crying won't do any good. They 're gone, and we '11 have to make the best of it." Edie's mother stops crying. She says : " Yes, it 's all well enough for you to talk that way, but what '11 I do, with my girl gone off without leaving a word? " She begins to cry again. Pretty soon she says : " Oh, do you think they could have gone and drowned themselves or some thing? You know Edie took on dreadfully about 183 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE my not letting her go with him." She cries worse than ever. My father says : " Nonsense ! The idea ! 'T ain't very likely, if / know the boy." He bites his nails a while. He says : " Depend on it, they know what they 're doin'. They 're safe and sound some where. The best thing we can do is to go right on with our work till they let us know where they are." My mother says: " Yes, just go home and go on as usual. It won't do any good to make a fuss now." Edie's mother gets up. She says : " Could n't we telegraph? P'rhaps they 've gone to Richard's or somewhere." Richard is Edie's uncle. He lives in Town. My father says : " All right, we '11 telegraph, if it '11 make you feel better. But it 's my opinion it '11 be a waste of money." Edie's mother goes to the door. She says : " You '11 promise me faithfully you '11 let me know the very first minute you hear anything, won't you? " My father says : " Of course we will ! You can rest easy about that." Edie's mother goes out. My mother says: "That's just what they've done! They've gone and got married, and there it '11 be an end of his schooling, and everything ! " My father says : " Just as like as not ! But you need n't be afraid. 'T won't be long before we '11 have 'em back." 184 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE He says : " I declare I don't know what the boy '11 do. I guess he '11 find out now what it is to work, whether he feels like it or not." He goes to the sink, and starts to wash his hands. He says : " But I don't see how I 'm goin' to get all this work done without help." My mother begins to take the potato up. She says : " I 'm just disgusted, I don't care ! If she 'd 'a' let 'em alone, and not opposed 'em all the time, it would have been all right. They 'd have gone on a while, and then maybe stopped of their own accord." She sets the potato on the table. She says: " That 's the way it is with boys and girls. The more you oppose 'em, the more they 're bound to have their way." She says to me : " Well, Bug, set the chairs around, and let 's have breakfast." 186 XXXIII I Go Fishing with Tip and Bill and Georgie BILL said for us to come down and go fishing to-day. It is Saturday. I take the cows up the road, and turn them into the lane. Old Whitey is eating at the side of the road near Edie's mother's house. She comes down the road when she sees us coming, and goes in with the rest. She is their cow. Every time I take the cows away or bring them home, I think of my brother and Edie. When I go by the woods, I think of what Edie's mother said about their drowning themselves, and I wonder whether maybe they have n't killed themselves some other way, and are n't in there somewhere, dead, and covered up with leaves. We don't hear anything from them. Edie's mother comes down every day to ask. Some days she comes twice. She says she hopes we are n't keeping anything from her. My father and mother say : " No, you can de pend on it, as soon as we hear, we '11 let you know." Edie's mother nearly always cries, and she nearly 187 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE always says she is afraid they have gone and drowned themselves. I drive the cows down the lane into the woods. I leave them there, instead of taking them away around to the back lot. My father lets me do that way once in a while when I am in a hurry. He says it gives the grass in the back lot a chance to catch up. Near the spring, I cut across up the hill to the road. I keep looking for a nice little ironwood for a fishpole, but somehow I never can find one to suit me. At last I get to the edge of the woods by the road, and take an ironwood I don't like at all. It makes me think of what they say about some people getting married. They say they are hard to suit, and at last take anyone they can get, just like me with the fishpole. When I get over into the road, I look up to see whether Tip is coming. I yell. Pretty soon I yell again. I hear Tip answer. He is taking a short cut through the woods. We go down the road together. Bill is just driv ing his cows out into the road. He has to watch them along the road every night and Saturdays, be cause their pasture is n't big enough. Bill sees us, and yells. We can see him hold up his hand. We know he is making the two-finger sign. That always means : " Going swimming? " Tip and I hold ours up, too, and begin to run. The dust jumps out on every side when our feet come 188 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE down. It feels soft and warm, but once in a while there is a gravel stone in it, and it hurts. Bill has a tin pail. He says : " I ast my mother for some bread and butter, so if we wanted to stay long." He says : " I 've got some w'ite bread, too." Bill almost always has rye bread. Bill says his mother says everybody eats rye bread in the old country. I say : " Can't you get some onions to go with it?" Bill says: "Onions? O' course! Lots of 'em right over here." He jumps over the fence and pulls some. I say : " Don't throw the tops away. They go fine in between the bread." Down by Newbecker's we meet Syd coming up from their marsh pasture with a colt. Bill says to Syd : " Goin' to hitch up and take Frankie for a ride? " Bill goes over toward the side of the road when he says it. Syd looks at him. He says : " Shut up your sassy mouth ! If I did n't have this colt I 'd break your neck for you. Now, you know it ? " Bill gets near the fence. He did n't think Syd would be quite so mad. He says : " Aw, don't get so mad about it ! 7 did n't mean nothin'." Syd says : " Well, you want to be careful what you say. First thing you know, you '11 get hurt! " 189 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Syd says to me : " Any news from your brother yet?" I say : " No, but we expect a letter every day." Syd says : " Well, it 's pretty near time, ain't it? Le' 's see, it's two weeks to-morrow since they skipped." The colt begins to prance around. Syd jerks on the halter and says : " Ho-o-oa ! Stand still, can't you?" The colt looks at Bill over in the fence corner. He lifts up his ears, and snorts. Syd says : " They say Edie's mother is worrying about them drownding themselves." He laughs. He says : " They say she had 'em go to the river yesterday and rake around down by the road bridge." He laughs again. He says : " Much good it '11 do her. He knows what lie 's doing, all right. Your mother '11 get a letter from 'em one o' these fine days, don't you worry ! " We leave the cows in the road near the river. We go ahead, and throw in at the first road bridge. Then we try the second road bridge. Bill says : " We ain't never goin' to catch any thing here. Come on, le' 's go over to Jones's bridge." Jones's bridge is n't over a road. It is in a field. They draw hay over it from the marsh. There is a big elm tree stands over it. We can see the tree from 190 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the road bridge. They are doing something there. We go across to where they are. They are wash ing sheep. Tip says : " Aw, everythin 5 's all riled up ! We might 's well go back where we come from." I say : " Oh, wait a while ! Le' 's watch 'em wash." The men go right in where it is up to their middle, clothes and all. They hold the sheep by the wool, and wash them while they lie there floating. They are getting ready for shearing time. By and by we start back. Tip says : " If we 'd come back here afterwards they 'd bite like every thing. They always bite after the water 's been stirred up that way. But we can't wait, can we? " Bill says : " Naw, we got to get some fish." When we get back to the gravel hole, by the sec ond road bridge, Bill says : " Come on, le' 's have a swim, and then le' 's eat our bread and onions. Then we '11 try our luck." We begin to undress. All we have to do is let our pants down and step out of them, and pull our shirts off over our heads. When we are just beginning, Bill says: " ' Mother, may I go out to swim? ' 'Yes, my darling daughter. Hang your clo'es on a hickory limb, But don't go near the water ! ' " Tip says : " I 'm goin' to be in first ! " 191 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Bill and I say : " You are, are you? " We all hurry as fast as we can. I let my pants drop, and jerk off my shirt. I start without think ing to get my feet out of my pants. One foot catches, and I go down flat on the ground with a thump. I jump up as quick as I can. We all three go in head first all at once. We come up, and swim to the bank. We climb out, and then dive and swim again. Bill says : " Watch me ! " He begins to rub blue clay on his arms. Tip and I begin to do it, too. We soap ourselves all over with blue clay. We dig into the bank under the water to get it. We swim, and dive after each other's legs, and laugh and yell. We swim and dive so much, and laugh so hard, that when we come out we are hungry enough to eat anything. We eat up all the lunch, and wish we had a lot more. We leave the lines in while we eat. Bill gets a couple of little bullheads. He puts them in his pail, in some water. They wiggle around with their noses against the pail and their tails going. It makes me think of big black polliwogs. 192 XXXIV We Have a Swim, Catch Fish, and Lose Our Lines on the Wires IT is warm. All of a sudden we notice that it is darker. Tip looks up, and says : " You know what? It's goin' to rain. Mighty soon, too! I tell you what le' 's do. Le' 's go over to the old elm tree. They bite like everything there when it 's muggy and rains." The old elm tree is only over the other side of the bridge, where the marsh begins. We grab every thing, and run across the bridge and through the fence to where it is. I climb out onto an alder that leans over the water just before we come to the tree. There are a couple of logs in the water under the alder, and lots of scum. I drop my line into the scum. Pretty soon the cork wiggles a little bit. I think of a bass. Then it goes under, but not very fast. I pull. I can tell by the feeling that it 's a bass. Before long I get two more. I don't get any more bites. I begin to think I have that hole fished out. It begins to rain. It is a slow, warm rain, and 193 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE makes us feel sweaty. Tip and Bill begin to get bites. I run over to where they are. Tip says : " Now you '11 begin to see us haul 'em out ! " We don't have to wait long. Tip says : " See that? Didn't I tell you?" His cork begins to wiggle and swim. Bill yells : " Pull ! Pull, you fool you ! " Tip jerks. A bullhead flies up over his head. It comes off the hook, and lands in the deep grass. Tip throws his pole down and runs after the bull head. It takes him quite a while to find it. Bill yells : " I got a bite ! I got a bite ! " My cork goes down at the same time. We both pull. They are both bullheads. We run to take them off. Mine comes off hard. Bill has to help me. He says : " You must n't never let a bullhead have it long. He 's sure to swalluh the hook." We catch them almost as fast as we can throw in. Bill says : " This is the best luck we ever had, al most, ain't it ? " It keeps raining a little. The water in the river is all dots and circles. The drops jump up, and look like beads. At last we have so many that we get tired of it. Tip says : " Oh, I got enough o' this. Come on, le"s wind up! Will you?" Tip and I carry our bullheads on forked willows. I begin to dread cleaning them. 194 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Bill says : " I tell you. Le' 's start the cows over towards home, and then le' 's us go down the track to the red bridge. I bet the scale fish '11 bite there. I 'm sick of catchin' all bullheads." Tip and I say : " All right ! " We start off. We try it at the red bridge. We don't catch any thing but bullheads. We go farther down the track, where the river runs right close, near the bridge where my brother got the redhorse. The river runs fast there. We throw in again. Tip says : " Look a' that ! Look a' that ! I got a bite! Now you just whait, and I'll show you something." He pulls up, but there is n't anything on. He says: " You have to jerk quick to get them fellers. There ! He 's at it again. See it? " Bill laughs. He says : " Oh, go on ! Your hook 's draggin' on the stones. That ain't no bite." Tip says: "It ain't, ain't it? Well, I'll show you whether it ain't." This time Tip jerks harder and quicker. His line flies up and catches on the telegraph wire. Bill and I laugh. Tip gets red. He says: " Laugh, why don't you? " We keep on laughing. Just then I happen to look for my cork. It is under. I jerk as quick as I can. My line flies up and catches on the wire right near Tip's. 195 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip says : " Aha ! Now it ain't half so funny, is it?" We stand and look at the lines. Tip says: " Darn them telegraph wires ! I 'm always forget- t'n' they 're there." The lines went around the wire two or three times. The hooks and sinkers are dangling. We can just about reach them with the tips of our poles. Tip says : " Now 't won't do no good to pull or yank. We must just take it easy. Just kind o' poke 'em like, till we get 'em off. More haste the less speed, they say." We both try to poke the hooks over, and unwind the lines that way. Before long my hook gets caught on a wire right beside the other. Tip's gets worse, too. We try a long time. We have to stretch a good deal to reach the lines where they are caught. It makes us warm. By and by I begin to feel mad. I can't help it. We both get out of patience, and begin to jab and yank. At last we yank as hard as we can. The lines break. Bill sits on a rail and watches us. He says : " Now you done it ! Now you ain't got any lines or hooks at all." Tip says. "What do I care? I don't want to fish any more, anyway." 196 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We start across the marsh toward Bill's. The lines and hooks hang there on the wires. The sun comes out again, and there is a fine breeze begins to blow. It is so warm we soon begin to dry out. We come out onto the road near Newbecker's. There are some trees there, and the wind makes the leaves rustle so that we notice. Tip stops and says : " Come ahead, le' 's climb a tree ! It '11 be fine up in there with the wind blowin'." We throw the fishpoles down, and run. Tip gets up into a hickory across the road, and Bill climbs up the maple on Newbecker's side. I have to go up the road farther for my tree. It is another hickory. Tip and I get up into the tiptops of our trees. We get away up to where they are small, and bend easily. We get a good hold, and then swing back and forth as hard as we can. The wind is fine up there. The leaves rustle and flutter and flap. We keep swinging. Every little while we yell back and forth : " Ri-i-ip . . . ski- i-ip . . . skin-em-a-dig-a-dye-doe ! " Tip taught us that. By the time I get home, I am so hungry I don't know what to do. I drop the bullheads on the grass, and go right in. The clock is just striking four. My mother looks at me. She smiles, and says : " Well, I s'pose you 're awfully hungry, ain't you ? You always are." 197 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE She says : " Well, you can get you something in the butt'ry to last you till supper time." I find some biscuits and butter, and some Dutch cheese. It is so good that I can't eat fast enough. I get my mouth so full I can hardly swallow. I eat so long that my mother has to say : " Come, remem ber it '11 be supper time in an hour or so." I take a big drink out of the dipper, and go out to clean the bullheads. I take one up, and cut through the skin on the back of his neck. Then I cut a little hole in his throat, and hang him on a nail that I have on one of the basswoods. I take a pair of pinchers and tear the skin off with one hand while I press him with the other hand to keep him from coming off the nail. Cleaning bullheads is the worst part about fishing. Scale fish are n't nearly so bad. But my mother says I need n't bring fish home unless I want to clean them. And she says it 's wicked to catch the poor things and then throw them away. 198 XXXV / Fmd the First Strawberry, and My Father Makes Boxes I TURN the cows into the lane, and shut the gate. My father says I can leave them in the woods again to-day. I start back down the road. Just beyond the big maple, I climb over the fence into the strawberry patch. It is time strawberries were beginning to get ripe. Right where I climb over, there are cherry trees along the fence. They are full of green cherries. Some are getting white, and a few of them are almost red. The robins fly out of the trees when I jump down from the fence. I walk along between the strawberry rows. The straw is wet and soft, and feels good. The dew is n't anywhere near off yet, it is so early. The vines are big and green, and all wet. The rows are so near together that they get my feet and ankles wet. I stoop over and brush the vines with my hand. I half expect to see something red down there among the green and yellow leaves. There are lots of clus- 199 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ters of green berries, and quite a few white blossoms with yellow centers. My hand gets wet and cool. All of a sudden, just as I straighten up to go along, a rabbit gives a jump and scampers away between the rows. It scares me at first. Then I run after him till he goes into the clover. His tail is like a little bunch of cotton. It keeps bobbing up and down. It makes me think of last year, when Uncle An thony reaped our wheat and I ran after the little rab bit and got him under a bundle, and my brother helped me catch him. I wonder if this is n't the same rabbit, only grown up. I walk along farther. I know it is no use looking 200 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE where the vines are so deep. The sun does n't get down in there. I keep watch of the thin places, and the south sides of the rows. There is where you always find the ripe ones first. After a while, all at once I give a jump. I just saw something red. But I don't stop, because I see right away that it is only a little red leaf. \> Pretty soon I jump again, and squat down. This time it is really a red berry. But when I turn it over it is green on the other side. I rumple up the straw between the rows a little, to help me find the place to-morrow morning. I go on looking. I walk up and down three or four rows before I see anything red again. Then all of a sudden I jump and squat down quicker than ever. I say: " Oh-h-h ! M-m-m-m ! Ain't you a nice ripe one ? M-m-m-m! Oh-h-h!" This one is red all over, and plump and firm. I put my first two fingers under it, and get ready to pull it off. I sit looking at it, and saying: " M-m- 201 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE m-m ! " There are tiny, plump little bits of seeds scattered all over it. They are yellow, and glisten like gold. The pointed leaves under it, where my fingers hold it, are crisp and green. I pull. The berry comes off. It makes a sort of smacking noise, and rolls over in my hand. I hold it up and look at it, and smell of it. It makes me think of straw, but it has a berry smell, too. I don't find any more, but I know there will be one or two to-morrow, and then they will begin to come fast. I run to the house. I am in a hurry to have my mother see the first berry. I hold the berry in my hand, covered up. I go up to my mother. I say : " Hold out your hand ! " My mother says: "What is it? A bug? " She laughs a little. I say: "No." My mother does n't hold out her hand. I say: "Here! Take it!" I look up at her, and laugh. She holds her hand. I let the berry drop into it. My mother opens her hand. She says : " Oh, the first strawberry ! Thank you ! M-m-m-mm ! Where did you find it? " She puts the berry in a white saucer and sets it on the table. She says : " It 's too pretty to eat. We '11 save it till dinner time, so your pa can see it. Then we '11 divide it. Shall we? " 202 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I say : " I want to show it to him now. Can I? " I can hear my father hammering, out in the barn. I can tell by the sound that he is making strawberry boxes. It rings a little when he lays the hammer down on the iron part. I take the berry in the saucer and run out. My father is glad to see it. He says : " Well, well, well ! A nice, ripe berry ! You don't say ! " He says : " Which end of the patch did you get it in the north? " I say yes. My father says he thought so, because that was the early end. He says : " 'T won't be many days now before they 're in full swing. I de clare, I don't see how I 'm goin' to be able to 'tend to the hay and berries all at once. You '11 all have to turn in and help, I guess." By and by he says : " If that boy had n't gone and run off just as work was beginnin', it would be different. Well, I s'pose I 've got to get me some more help, and that 's all there is to it." I take the berry back to the house, and come out to the barn again. My father is just coming up from the basement with an armful of box-stuff. It has to be soaked before you can make boxes of it. It has little lines cut across it, so it will fold. If it is n't wet, it breaks right off. My father lays the box-stuff on top of a barrel at his left hand. There is a bunch of long pieces with 203 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE four lines cut across them, and a bunch with only two. My father gets up on his barrel. It has the old buffalo robe over it. His legs hang down. In front of him there is a thick scantling. The end next to him has an iron plate on it. The other end of it sticks into the big upright beam that runs away up to the scaffold. There is another scantling that stands on the floor and holds up the end of the one with the iron on it. My father folds one of the short pieces, and lets it hang over the scantling. Next, he bends a long piece, and folds it so it makes the outside of a box. Then he puts the short piece inside the long one, to make the bottom. After that he puts the box over the end of the scantling and drives in the tacks. The iron is to make them clinch. He has the tacks in a little square place on the scantling in front of him. There is a big heap of boxes already made. When my father throws another on, it rolls down the side of the heap and makes a light, hollow noise. It is n't like a wood noise, and it is n't like pasteboard, but half way between. I stand and watch. Pretty soon my father says: " I s'pose you might be putting 'em into cases. Don't you want to ? You won't have to go to school for an hour yet, will you? " I get some cases, and begin to put the boxes in. The cases hold sixteen quarts. When I get them all 204 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE in, there are ten or twelve cases. Georgie always calls them " crates." He used to live in Town, and he says lots of things different. My father gets down from the barrel. He says: " Anyway, there 's enough to keep us goin' for the first pickin' or two." He goes to the door and looks out. He says: " Well, by the time I can get hitched up on the mower, I guess the dew '11 be about off. I got to get at that clover. I want to get it pretty well along by the time the berries get to booming." We start for the stable. We go down the base ment ladder. The old mares begin to whinner. They think maybe we are going to bring them some oats. My father says : " You see I made quite a lot of boxes while I was waiting for the dew to go off." He goes after the currycomb and brush. He says : " You can get a good deal done by watching the cor ners of your time. Of course, we won't need the boxes for a day or two yet, but it 's a good deal bet ter to drive your work than to have your work drive you." 805 XXXVI It Is a Hot Day at School, and Charley and Dan Have a Quarrel IT is hot in the school room. It makes me think of the word " sultry." We never say sultry, though, when we talk. We always say " muggy." That means that the grass is thick and green and full of mosquitoes, and the ground is moist and warm, and the sun is hot, and you feel sticky. And you feel sure it will rain again soon. Teacher is red in the face. She sits and fans her self, and looks out through the window. Every lit tle while she wipes her face with her handkerchief. It is so hot we don't feel like cutting up. We sit and study our spelling and geography without car ing very much one way or the other. Tip is whisper ing away to himself : " Believe, b-e-1-i-e-v-e, b-e- 1-i-e-v-e, b-e-1-i-e-v-e ; conceive, c-o-n-c-e-i-v-e, c-o-n- c-e-i-v-e, c-o-n-c-e-i-v-e ." I am whispering: "What other principal products of Russia? Wheat-wool-wine-salt, wheat-wool-wine-salt, wheat- wool-wine-salt ." Teacher says to us : " Try not to make quite so much noise with your studying." She smiles. She 206 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE wipes her face again, and keeps on fanning. When we recite, she does n't seem to care a great deal whether we have a good lesson or not. There are quite a few seats without scholars. That is because it is summer term, and the big boys and girls are all working at home. Tip and I are almost the biggest boys ourselves now. There are only two or three boys that are older, but thore are five or six girls. Teacher lets out for noon. We take our dinner pails and go out under the big maples. Tip goes home for his dinner, the way he always does. When we get through dinner, we all go in and put our pails back on the shelf. Then we go out into the entry and get a drink. The water is n't very cool. The dipper is rusty. When I drink, Dan gives the dipper a push. The water slops onto my shirt. I chase Dan out of doors. It is too hot to play ball. We try peg a while, but give it up. We try duck-on-the-rock, and give that up, too. We lie down on our elbows in the shade again. Charley Binzel has a chew of rubber gum. He is bigger than we. He does n't have to stay at home and work, because his father keeps saloon. Charley chews his gum and talks at the same time. Dan has some gum, too. He takes hold of it with his fingers and draws it away out in a long strip. Then he chews it back in again. 207 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Charley sits up. He says to Lije: "I bet you can't do this ! " He cracks all his knuckles at the same time. Lije's father is treasurer of the school district. We saw his name in the register after he visited school one day. He could n't write as well as we can, and he spelled it " T-r-e-s-u-e-r." Lije says : " I bet you I can too ! " Charley says : " All right, le' 's see you, then ! " Lije says: "I could if I wanted to. I don't want to." Charley says : " Why don't you want to ? " Lije says: " 'Cause. It makes your ankles big." We all laugh at Lije. He gets red. Charley says : " Ankles your grandmother ! Go on ! You mean your knuckles. Ankles ! " Lije says: "Never you mind what I mean! I guess I know what I mean ! " He looks mad. Charley sits up again. He leans on his hand in stead of his elbow. He says to Dan : " Come on over here. I want to tell you somethin'." Dan says: " WJiut do you want to tell me?" Charley says : " Come over here and I '11 tell you. Come here, close! I got to whisper it." Dan likes it because Charley chooses him to tell it to. He goes over and sits down where Charley says. Charley makes believe he whispers something in Dan's ear. Then he rolls over and jumps up and 208 begins to laugh. He yells out : " Sold again ! " Dan jumps up with his fists doubled. He is always ready to get mad about something. He feels of his pants where he sat down, and there is a big flat piece of rubber gum sticking there. There are little pieces of dirt and grass in it. Dan tries to get it off, but it won't all come. Dan runs at Charley and keeps trying to hit him with his fists, but Charley's arms are too long, and Dan can't reach him. Dan says : " You wait, will you, till I get a hold of a good big club, and I '11 show you, you " He goes running and circling around until he finds a great big stick. He grabs it up, and begins to run at Charley again. Charley runs around the big maple, and keeps dodging. He yells : " Here ! You put that club down, you little sucker! Put down that club, I tell you!" Dan keeps on running at him, and yells : " I won't either! You just come away from this tree, and I '11 show you whether I will or not, you old " Charley yells : " You will, will you ? " He stops running. Dan stops, too. Charley walks up to him, and says : " Put down that club, I tell you ! " Dan stands still, and looks up at Charley. His face is all red. He scowls. He says : " I don't haf to. You need n't think I 'm afraid o' you, you old beer-belly you ! " 209 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Charley steps up closer to him. He doubles up his fists, and holds them out a little way toward Dan. He says : " Don't you call me that again, if you know what 's good for you ! " Dan says : " Well I will call you it, as often as I want to ! Then you need n't go stickin' gum on my pants." Charley says : " Well, you won't call me it, and you need n't give me any more o' your lip ! Now, you know it ? " Dan says : " That 's all right ! You need n't think you 're goin' to stick your ol' gum on my pants. You would n't dast to do it to anyone o' your size." Charley says : " Well, you need n't think you 're goin' to call me beer-belly, that 's all ! " Dan says : " Well I will if I want to, and it '11 take more 'n you to stop me ! " Charley says : " It will, hey ? I '11 show you whether it will or not ! " Dan says: "You just lay a hand on me and you '11 see ! That 's all right ! " They both stand there. Dan holds the club, and Charley keeps his fists doubled. Lije says to Charley: "Why don't you hit him? You dassent ! " Dan says: "Yes, why don't you hit me, if you want to so bad? Just try it, and you '11 see! " Charley says : " Huh ! S'pose I 'd dirty my 210 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE hands on a little pup like you?" He walks away from us. Dan says: "That's all right! He needn't think he can stick his ol' gum on my pants." Lije calls out: "Dassent, dassent, dassent!" Charley turns around, and walks back right up to Lije. He says: "Say, do you want anything? Huh? " He doubles up his fists. Lije gets red. He says: "Get away from me, now! Take someone o' your size. Get away! / ain't touched you, have I? " Charley says: "Who said you had, huh? Who said you had? " He takes Lije by the neck of his shirt. Lije gives a jerk and gets away. He runs as fast as he can, and yells : " Dassent, dassent, dassent ! " Charley shakes his fist at Lije. He yells : " Just wait till I catch you, young feller ! " 311 XXXVII Gertie and Tip Have Trouble with Dan in Counting out and Peg THE girls are down under the basswood, near the schoolhouse. They put the covers onto their dinner pails, and set them all together by the tree. One of the girls yells up to us : " Want to play hide-and-go-seek ? " We all run down to where they are. In winter we never play with the girls, but now it is different. The big boys are n't here, and there are n't so many boys' games. Gertie says : " Come on, I '11 count out." We all stand around Gertie. She begins to point at us, one after another. She says: " O-shoo-sky-bloo, All-out-but-you ! " The " you " comes on Dan. Gertie says : "You're it!" Dan begins to scowl and talk cross right away. He says : " Oh, that ain't no fair ! You have to count out the other way." A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Gertie says : " All right, I '11 do it the other way, if you ain't satisfied." She points again, and says : " Mon-key-mon-key-bot-tle-o'-beer, How-many-mon-keys-are-they-here? One-two-three-out-goes-she ! " The " she " comes on Minnie. Gertie says : " Minnie 's out ! " Minnie jumps up, and says: "Goody! I don't have to be it ! " Gertie goes over " Mon-key-mon-key " again, and Nettie goes out. Then I go out, and some more go out. There are only Dan and a couple of others left. Dan shoves in between Gertie and the rest. He is afraid he will be it. He says : " Oh, I know a bet ter one 'n that ! Hoi' on ! Listen ! " Dan begins : "Ink pink - Oh how you do " Gertie gives him a push. It almost knocks him over. She says : " Keep still ! You ought to be 'shamed of yourself. Now you can't play with us ! " She gets red in the face, and looks mad. Dan looks cross right away. He says : " I kin too play! Who's a-goin' to stop me? I'll play for all o' you! " Gertie says : " Well, you won't ! Now you go 'way, or I '11 tell teacher ! " 213 Dan looks crosser than ever. He says : " All right, tell-her, and smell-her, and kick-her-down-cel- lar! 7 don't care. I do' want to play any how!" We play hide-and-seek a while without Dan. Then one of the girls says : " Oh, don't let 's play this any longer ! It 's so hot. Let 's play drop-the- handkerchief ! That '11 be lots cooler." Minnie says : " No, le' 's play ring-around-the rosy ! Come on ! Over here, on this nice grass place." Lije says : " Oh, I ain't a-goin' to play that! " I say : " I wish Tip 'd hurry up and come back from dinner. I don't see why he can't bring his grub to school, anyway, like the rest of us." Just then we hear Tip yell : " Yah-'oo ! Yah- 'oo ! " He can always get that yell better than any one else. Tip comes running up to where we are. Georgie gets back at the same time. We all sit down in the shade. Tip says : " Come on, le' 's have a game o' peg ! " Dan gets beat. Tip sharpens a peg to drive in. Dan will have to pull it up with his teeth. Tip whittles quite a while. Dan says : " Aw, you dassent make it so sharp ! " The reason he says that is because he knows it will go away down in if it is sharp, and he '11 get a mouthful of dirt when he pulls it. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip takes the peg in his left hand. He says : '" Now, I kin hit it ten times with my eyes shut." Tip starts the peg with his eyes open. Dan yells : " Hoi' on there! That 's enough! You got to shut your eyes." Tip says : " Well, a feller 's got to get it started, ain't he?" Dan says : " Yes, but he ain't got to take all day, is he?" Tip takes his jackknife by the blade. He looks at the peg a little while. Then he shuts his eyes, and begins to say : " One two three ." He hits the peg every time. Dan jumps up on his hands and knees, and looks at Tip's eyes. He yells : " Aw, get out ! You 're lookin' ! 'T ain't no fair ! I ain't goin' to pull it, now!" Tip says : " I ain't neither lookin'. Shut up ! " He goes on counting : " Four five six seven ." Dan keeps watching his eyes, to see whether he looks. Tip misses only once or twice. The peg is away down in the grass. Dan gets down on his hands and knees. He looks at the peg. He says : " 'T ain't no fair ! You looked while you was drivin' it. I ain't a-goin' to pull it." Tip says : " I did not look while I was drirm it ! 215 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Go on ! You got beat, and you got to pull the peg." Dan says: "I have, have I? Who's a-goin' to make me, I like to know ! " Tip says: "Me an' Georgie an' Lije an' Cully, that 's who, if you want to know." Cully is what they call me sometimes, just for fun. They heard my brother say it once. Dan says: "Is that so? Well, you just try it, that 's all 7 got to say. I kin lick the hull four o' you." Tip says: "You kin, kin you? All right, come on ! We '11 give you a chance ! " Tip gets up and makes a line on the ground over by home base. We all stand by the line, with our toes on it. Tip says to Dan: "Now you kin just step up here, if you want anything ! " Dan says : " I don't have to. If you want to fight so bad, you can just come over here ! " Dan goes across the road, and stands in the fence corner. He says : " Now, come on, the hull four o' you, if you dast, an' I '11 knock you into the middle o' next week ! " We run across the road, and stand in front of him. Every time we make a motion toward him, he begins to kick with both legs and swing both arms, all at the same time. We don't care very much, so we go and sit down again. 216 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Tip says: "Who cares for him, anyway? He's all mouth ! We could lick him if we wanted to." He begins to practice nosings. He says : " Could n't we?" Lije says: " Course we could! But we would n't dirty our hands on him, would we? " Lije says that because he heard Charley say it to Dan a while ago. He is always doing that way. The girls are playing London Bridge. We know it because we can hear them singing: "London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down; London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady!" Dan comes back and sits down near us. He scowls. When we look at him, he sticks out his tongue. We all sit with our feet drawn up, and our arms around our knees. The girls begin another game. This time they sing something that always ends : "Turn to the east, and turn to the west, And turn to the one that you love best ! " 217 XXXVIII We Have Thunder and Lightning, Rain, Hail, and a Fine Rainbow THE sun shines in through the west windows. It has got so far around that the hickories don't shade us any more. It is hotter than ever. Tip looks at me. He says: "Your head's in it now. Don't it feel hot? " He puts his hand on top of my head. He sa}'s : " Ast her if you can't put the curtains down. Go ahead ! " I say : " I do' want to. You ask her." Tip holds his hand up. Teacher does n't look. Tip snaps his fingers. Teacher looks cross. She says : " How many times have I told you I don't want you to snap your fingers ? " Tip does n't say anything. Teacher says : " Well, what do you want? " Tip says: "Can he pull the curtains down? It 's awful hot." Teacher says : " Of course ! " She says : " You may pull down the whole three of them." That makes it darker. The curtains are green. When they move, the light changes in the room. 218 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We sit studying quite a long while. Teacher fans herself. Gertie waves her handkerchief in front of her face. Tip has drops on his forehead. He whispers to me : "I bet you my shirt 's wet through, on my back. Look! Ain't it?" I lean back and look. Tip's shirt looks darker under the suspenders, and along by the side of them. The edge of his hair is wet, too. Tip begins to laugh. He is looking at Lije. He whispers to me: "Look a' Lije! Look a' the drop o' sweat or something on the end of his nose." We come pretty near laughing out loud. Lije sees us laughing at him. He looks cross, and pretty soon he sticks out his tongue at us. That makes the drop fall onto his slate. When he sees it, he keeps looking at it a long time. He can't make- out where it came from. We almost laugh out loud again. All of a sudden we notice that it is a great deal darker than it was. We know it must be different outside. Teacher goes and puts the curtains up. The sun is under a cloud, but there is blue sky up above the cloud. We can see other clouds. They are high, and heaped up, and puffy. At the top they are white and shiny. At the bottom they are grey, and almost black. 219 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We can tell that there is going to be a shower. We are all glad, because that will make it cooler. Teacher smiles. Her face is as red as it can be. The clouds get higher. We hear the leaves on the hickories outside rustle a little. Then one of the curtains begins to swing a little, and we feel the cool come in. At the same time we hear something away off over the woods go : " Rum-mle-um-mle-um- rnle-um-m-m ' That is thunder. Every time it thunders and rains, it makes me think of old Grandpa Blake. He is one of the Eng lish from down near the east burying ground, and he talks like all the rest of the English. One day when he came to Sunday school, he stopped outside where we were all waiting, and put his hand on my head, and said to all of us : " Well, my boys, 'ow hare ye?" Then he looked at the sky, and said: " I guess it 's goin' to h-rain. It looks like thoonder in the h-west." We always say it, ever since. Tip looks at me just as I am thinking of it. He begins to say it: " I guess it 's goin' to h-rain. It looks like thoonder " Just as Tip says it, it thunders again. It goes : " Rum-mle-um-mle-um-mle-um . . . boo-o-om ! " It gets darker than ever. The clouds are so high that we can't see the white, puffy part any more. There is just a big, solid, dark blue cloud all over the sky. Once in a while there is a flash of lightning. 220 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The rumbling sounds nearer. It is right over the woods now. The curtains swing in again. Then they rattle. We feel the bree/e enough now to be cooler. We turn our faces toward the windows and let it blow our hair. We open our mouths and take deep breaths. We breathe out again with a " Ha-a-ah ! " Teacher smiles at us. She lays her fan down. The breeze gets almost cold. It gets too strong. Teacher puts the west windows down. She says : " It will rain soon, anyway." It rumbles right along now, and there are lots of little lightning flashes. Pretty soon there is a ticking noise on the windows, We look up, and see drops beginning to splash on the panes. They come thicker and thicker. It lightens again. It is so dark we can hardly see to study. The leaves of the maples outside the east windows make a great noise with their rustling. The bass- wood right near the window does n't rustle. It is so near that the wind does n't strike it, but the big drops come down on its leaves with a loud, patting sound. All of a sudden there is a terrible flash of lightning. We all jump and wink, and look around at one an other. Then there is an awful crash of thunder. We sit with our toes pressed against the floor until it comes. The girls all jump, and so does teacher. Gertie gives a little squeal and puts her fingers in her ears. Some of the little girls and boys begin to cry. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Teacher says : " Never mind ! It won't hurt you." Then the rain comes pouring down. Outside the windows, it is all white when we look. We hear the water falling on the roof, and we hear it come down on the ground under the eaves. The spelling class is reciting. We can hardly hear the words. Something begins to tick louder on the windows. At first it ticks just once. It sounds as if a gravel stone had hit the pane. Then there is another tick, and another. Then there are a lot of them. It is hail. We can hear the stones strike the roof and the leaves of the basswood. The big ones hit the shingles, and then bound. They are so heavy we be gin to hear them thump on the ground. They strike the window panes so hard we are afraid they will break the glass. I stretch up in my seat and look out. The stones are dancing on the grass. The road is full of muddy water. The big waterdrops dance in the road just like the hailstones on the grass. It rains and lightens and thunders and hails until we begin to wonder how the girls are going to get home. We boys don't care for a little rain. But all of a sudden there is the biggest flash of lightning of all, and the biggest crash of thunder. We can hardly see or hear after it. Everyone's eyes look big. For a minute the rain does n't come down so hard. Then there is another big flash and crash, with a lot 222 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE of thunder afterward that sounds like a team of horses and a big wagon on top of someone's barn, with the horses rearing like everything. Then all of a sudden it gets lighter. We don't hear the rain on the roof any more. We only hear it falling off the eaves. It looks as if the sun were going to come out again. By and by a little breeze comes again. The leaves of the basswood flutter, and a lot of drops come down. Then the sun begins to shine. Everything is as quiet as can be. Teacher is just through with the last spelling class. She says: "There! It's stopping just in time. You may pack up your books." By and by she says : " Dismissed," and we all go out. The steps are wet and clean. There are little hailstones scattered on them. The air is cool, but right away we can feel the warm sun. The ground is all hailstones and water. In some places the tops of the grass are all you can see above the water. In other places the stones are so thick we can scoop them up in our hands. Our feet are so cold from the water and the hailstones that they get all red. We scoop up the hailstones, and look at them, and put them in our mouths. We hold them in our hands until they melt. Tip goes up behind Minnie and puts one down her neck. She begins to scream, and runs away. The little Polacks see Tip put the hailstone down A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Minnie's neck. They start and run, and don't stop until they think we won't chase them. Tip yells to August : " Come on back, August ! Here 's some awful big ones here, under the tree. Come on ! " August yells : " I von't do ut ! You tink ve vant such a hailshtones down our backs?" They stand there in a row. We make believe we are going to chase them. They turn around and run as fast as they can until they are over the hill. We pick up some of the biggest stones and throw them at the trees. Then we throw some at each other. There are fresh green leaves on the ground. The hailstones knocked them off. Some of them have holes in them. Tip says : " These here are nothin' to the ones that come down once when ma was alive. Some of 'em was as big as hen's eggs. I had one of 'em take me on the head, and it made a bump like an English walnut." While we are looking on the ground for big hail stones, all at once someone yells out: " Oh, look at the rainbow ! " We all stop and look up. It is just coming out, up above the basswood and the maples. In a minute more it is as bright as can be. One end of it comes down at one side of Lije's house, and the other away over north by the Dutch church. The schoolhouse trees seem greener than we ever A COUNTRY CHRONICLE saw them before. The cloud under the rainbow is so blue it is almost black. We all say : " 0-o-oh, ain't it pretty ! " We go from one place to another to see it. Soon there is another bow right near it, but not so bright. Then the first one begins to fade, and the other one is gone. We begin to play with the hailstones again. The little ones are just about melted. Pretty soon we start for home. We walk in the middle of the road, where the mud is deep. It squeezes up between our toes, and feels funny. We stop in front of Tip's house to make some mud pies. We make them big, right in the middle of the road. The mud is always deep in front of Tip's house. They have a little crossing made of ashes, or Tip's auntie could never go to see the neighbors or get to church a day like this. 225 XXXIX 7 Manage the Strawberry Picking While My Father Gets in Hay MY father sets down his coffee cup, and says to Ernest : " Ernest, you might hitch up right away. There ain't any dew this morning, and we can begin to draw as soon as we can get out." Ernest is our hired man. My father had to get him because my brother ran away. My father says to me : "I guess you and your ma '11 have to superintend the picking. I can't spare any time from the clover." He says to me : " I guess you better run down and see if you can't get Annie and Pauline to pick. Maybe you can get one or two of the depot boys, too. You '11 need all the help you can get." My father gets up to go out. He puts his old straw hat on. It is all ragged around the edge. He says : " Now, you women folks be careful of the vines, and don't trample 'em all down. You do make such awful work with your dresses ! " I leave the cows in the road while I run down to the depot. Annie and Pauline say they will come. 226 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE They are the wives of the section men that pas ture their cows in our lot. I get Jim and Fritz, too. When I get back, I turn the cows into the lane. Then I run home and out to the barn. I carry out some cases under my arms. I put them under the cherry trees by the road, at the edge of the straw berry patch. We take a row apiece, and begin. My mother has the row next to me. We set our boxes in the open spots in the middle of the vines, where the leaves are n't so thick. We get all the berries that are in sight, and then brush the vines over to find those that are hidden. The berries are so thick that I can almost pick a quart without moving. I get five or six empty boxes and drop them along the row ahead of me, so I won't have to get up so often. I pick into two boxes at the same time. When I have my boxes full, I carry them down to the cherry trees and put them in the cases in the shade. I carry the other people's boxes, too, so they can go on picking. I set each one's in a different place. Annie's berries are all juice. I have to go to her and say : " You must put your fingers on both sides of the stem when you pick, and pull 'em off, that way not take hold of the berry itself. Then you won't squush 'em so." 227 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Annie says : " Oho, so dot 's dc vay you do ut ! All right den." Annie drags her words. We like to hear her talk. Pauline says: "How green should ve pick um? Will dese here vones do? Or should ve pick um riper, yet? " I look at Pauline's box, and say : " Some of 'em are too green. Have 'em red all over." Fritz says : " Are mine and Jim's full enough ? Do you want us to heap 'em up, or should we have 'em j ust level with the box ? " I go and look at their boxes. I say : " Heap 'em up a little more. Pa says he likes to give good, full measure. Anyway, you know they shake down by the time he gets to the Village." Annie and Pauline do a good deal of talking. My mother and I laugh to ourselves at the broken way they talk. Pauline says : " I yoost got to vork in my po- tadoes, ven he comes and ast vedder I vould pick to day. Ferst, I did n't vant to." Annie says : " It vas yoost de same vay vit me. But den I tought how my man he likes dose berries, and I tought I might yoost as veil come as not. I said, dat ol' garden it can vait till to-morrow al ready." Jim says: " Dast we eat some? Does your fa ther care ? " I say: " Oh, if you don't eat too many." 228 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Pretty soon I hear Annie say : *' Dose boys dey iss eating more as dey iss picking, not? " When Annie gets five quarts picked, she sets the last one down by her pail. She says : " Dis here vone, it '11 be mine, von't it ? " We give every fifth quart. If they want money, we give them a cent and a half. Jim and Fritz are going to take pay. They say they want to get a lit tle money for firecrackers. I have to go after more boxes. I get enough so that everyone can have a case. I take all the empty boxes out, and put the full ones in. I lose time attending to the rest, but I get my case filled as soon as the others, because I am a fast picker. I have had a lot of practice. I begin to carry the cases to the house. I get pretty tired by the time I am there. I put the cases on the cellar bottom. The berries look fine. They glisten a little in the dark. I get another case half full before dinner. My mother has to stop at eleven, to get dinner for the men. We all stop at quarter to twelve. Jim and Fritz run home for their dinner. We are at it again by one. We don't feel quite so much like it now, though. Every little while I stand up and look to see how many rows are left. It will take till supper time. Annie and Pauline don't talk so much now, and Fritz does n't eat so much. We are all getting tired. My back aches. 229 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Annie stands up. She puts her hands on her sides, and bends back, and grunts. She says : " It 's all vat I can do to stand up, yet. I bet you I am so lame to-morrow I can'd valk no more." We get through a little after four. Annie and Pauline have their pails full. The berries look fine with the bright tin all around. It takes me a long time to carry all the cases. There are twelve on the cellar bottom when I get through. Jim helps me carry the last. When we come up out of the cellar, my father and Ernest are sharpening the scythe. My father is turning. We stand and watch them. Ernest bears down hard, and holds the scythe there a long time without stopping. When he lifts it up, my father says: "I declare! This just takes the tuck out o' me." Jim says: " Le' me turn a while. Will you?" My father says : " You sure you want to ? It 's pretty hard work, even if it does look easy." Jim says : " Oh, I like to turn." Ernest says : " All right, den. Come ahead." It does n't take long to finish. Jim puffs quite a while after they stop. We go to the woodshed door, and my father pays him. My mother says : " I guess you '11 have time to run down before supper and see if there 's a letter. Maybe we '11 hear from them to-day. It 's over a month now." 230 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE After chores, my father takes the lamp and goes down to see the berries. He says: "By jolly, that 's as fine a lot o' berries as I ever saw ! They ought to sell like everything." 43 XL My Father and I Take the Berries to the Village MY father tells Ernest he can bring the horses around as soon as he wants to. He says : " You need n't put any oats in. We 're gettin' started early enough to get back for dinner. I guess we'll be able to finish the hay this afternoon." We go down cellar, and begin to bring up the ber ries. We set them by the woodshed door. My mother says to my father : " You better fix up, just a little bit. You don't want to go looking too ragged. They '11 think you ain't got any one to take care of you. And you know there 's a good many of 'em that know us." My father laughs. He says : " Oh, don't you worry about me! I '11 be all right." My mother makes me put my shoes on, and a col lar, and brush my hair. I never like shoes. To day they are worse than ever, because I have a sore heel. I ran a sliver into it yesterday, and it was hard getting it out. Ernest drives up to the door with the light wagon. They set the cases in, and put a spread over them. 233 My father takes the Anything you We climb up onto the seat, lines. My father says to my mother: want me to bring? " My mother says: "Well, we're just about out of sugar. And I s'pose you might as well get a sack of flour this time as next unless you calculate to go to mill soon. Get the patent." My father is just going to start the old mares. Ernest says: "Vat should I do till } - ou git back? Vill I hoe or do you vant me to shake dat clofer oud agin? " My father thinks a while. He says : " Well, I guess you might hoe in the corn till about ten, and then shake out the clover, if the dew 's good and off. Then it '11 be sure to be ready for us to get in right after dinner." 234 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE He thinks. He says : *' If we should happen to be home late, you might hitch up the old Colonel and run through the new strawberry patch." My father jerks on the lines. The old mares start. We go past the pieplant and along the as paragus, and into the road. When we are just turn ing out, my mother comes out onto the veranda in front and calls out : " And a cake o' compressed yeast ! " My father says to me : " What 's that she said? " My mother stands there till she sees me tell him. We go by Bradley's this time, and take the South Plank. We turn to the right. When we go to Aunt Caty's, we always turn to the left here. My father says : " I kind o' like to come this way, 'cause the Plank 's almost always better goin'. But we '11 go back the other way. 'T ain't near so steep. Bradley's hill is a long pull, even without a load." We go past old Pinkman's, and then cross the bridge over Popple Creek. The Creek goes into the river. My father says he supposes we ought to say " Poplar." I always look for poplar trees, but they are nearly all willows. Tip and I walked as far as Pinkman's once, ped dling seeds. We bought some crackers and sausage of him. It was three miles, and we only sold ten cents' worth. We spent it all for the sausage and crackers. Soon the road forks. We leave the Plank and go 235 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE past Tommy Allis's up a hill. From the top we can see the steeples in the Village. We can see the Beth any House, too. It has hundreds of rooms. My father says to stay there a week would take all the money he could save in a year. It is six miles to the Village, and Town is twelve, only in the other direction. The Village is a summer resort place. They have springs, and they say the water cures almost every thing that can ail you. My father says there 's a good deal of humbug about it. He says : " Lots o' good pure water is good for anybody. I believe that 's all it is, after all." The old mares have been going so slow up the long hill that they forget to start again. They act al most asleep. My father whistles at them, and jerks on the lines. He says : " Still, they say it 's done wonders for some people." He flicks the old mares. Old Judy switches her tail and shakes her head. My father says : " Well, if we get near Siloam on our rounds to-day, we '11 have you try some o' the water. Maybe it '11 cure your heel. Who knows ? " I don't quite know whether my father really means it. There is a marsh, and then a slaughter house. It has a terrible smell. 236 A COUNTRY CHRONIC'LE My father says : " That 's where the meat men come out to kill their critters." At the Court House, we turn. I know we are go ing to stop at the James's. I know most of the places. My father pulls up. He says : " Who-o-oa ! " He says to me : " All right ! You run in and see if they want any to-day." I don't want to. I feel bashful. I say : " No, you ! I 'd rather hold the lines." My father says: " Oh pshaw!" He hands me the lines. He says : " I wish you 'd get so you wa'n't quite so 'fraid o' folks." He starts around to the back door. After awhile, they come out of the front door. Mrs. James says : " How much are they this morn ing? Are they nice? " She puts her spectacles on. My father lifts up the spread. He says : " Ten cents. A dollar and a half a case. There ain't an inferior berry among 'em." Mrs. James says : " Well, anyway, you have your boxes good and full." My father says : " I calculate to give my cus tomers their money's worth." I know he likes to have her say that. He says : " They 'd look fuller yet, but they always shake down quite a little, com ing so far." Mrs. James says : " Well, I suppose I might as well do my canning now as any time. They won't be 237 " any cheaper, will they? And they 're such nice ones." She lifts one of the top boxes up, and looks at the one under it. My father says : " You '11 find 'em just the same everywhere, top and bottom. And you '11 find they're just as big in the bottoms o' the boxes as anywhere, too." Mrs. James says : " I don't doubt it a bit." She takes her spectacles off. She says : " Well, I guess I '11 have well, let 's see yes, I '11 take three crates. We do love straw berry sauce ! " We go the rounds. At the Bethany House they happen to be out of berries, and take two bushels. The Bethany House holds hundreds and hundreds of people, but it is n't very full yet. My father says : " Well, at that rate we '11 soon be rid of 'em all." We come to Siloam Spring. My father pulls up on the lines. He says : " Now 's your chance ! Run down and drink all you can, and we '11 see what it does." I run down to the spring and drink two or three glasses full. It is under a sort of roof with pillars. The water boils up out of some nice, clean gravel. When I come back, my father says : " Feel any different yet? " I say : " Oh, I don't know." I think maybe he is making believe. 238 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE At the last, we have a case and a half left. We stop at a grocery. My father says : " Le' 's see if Rolfe don't want to take 'em off our hands." Rolfe comes out and looks at the berries. He says he '11 give eight cents. My father says all right. We get the flour, and some sugar, and the yeast, and start for home. My father says : " You see that 's the way it is. They always give two cents less at the groceries." He says : " Of course, it would save time if I sold 'em all that way. I could just drive up and leave 'em, and go home and go to work again." He flicks the old mares. He says : " But I 'd always be getting two cents less, and on a good loud it amounts to three or four dollars. We might as well be getting that money as someone else." \Ve go back by the river road. It is level and winding, and you never know what is coming next. That 's why I like it better than the other. My father likes it because it is level. It is level all ex cept when we are almost home. Then there is the big hill where it goes up past the woods. On the way out of the Village, we go past the dam. Once I teased my father to go fishing there. The water boiled and foamed. We got a few, and then our hooks got caught. My father said : " Con demn it, there it is ! " He rolled up his pants and waded in. I was afraid they would laugh at him. When he got the hooks unfastened, he said: 239 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE " There, I hope you 're satisfied now. Take your fish and come along ! " It is hot on the way home. The old mares sweat. There is thick, white foam on their sides where the tugs rub. Dinner is just ready when we get there. My mother comes to the door. She says : " I thought it was about time you got here." My father begins to take the flour and things out. Ernest comes and gets the horses. I jump down and go into the house. My father says : " Well, I declare ! He don't limp at all now ! That 's what Siloam water '11 do for sore heels." My heel does feel nice and warm and comfortable, but I don't know whether my father really means that the water did it or not. 240 XLI / Break the Old Hen's Leg, and We Pick Raspberries THE black raspberries are almost gone, and the red ones are getting ripe. There is a patch of red ones down in the orchard. The black ones are next to the strawberry bed. I leave the pickers, and carry a case of berries to the house. I take it down cellar. I come up again, and start for the barn. I have to make some more boxes. When I come out of the woodshed door, I can see them picking. Some of them are standing up, and some are sitting on their knees in the straw. I can just see their sunbonnets over the bushes. I can hear them talking, but not so I know what they say. The barn is full of timothy hay. They are stack ing the rest outside the door. There is a round stack-bottom there, all made of stones. The ground is covered with the hay that drops off the sides when Ernest pitches. The barn floor has a lot scattered over it, too. It is a warm day. The hay smell is strong. 241 A COUNTRY CHRCWICLE I go down in the basement and wet the box-stuff in the tub by the pump, and come back and get up on the barrel. I have to make sixteen boxes, because I must fill one case. I can't make them as fast as my father. My brother could make them faster than anybody. There is an old hen cackling over near the end door. She steps around with her head sticking up and turned on one side, looking at me and squawking. I don't like the hen's noise. I stop hammering and say : " Sh-h-h-h, you old fool ! " The old hen keeps on squawking. I say again : "Sh-h-h! Sh-h-h-h!" She does n't stop. It makes me mad. By and by I yell : " Sh-h-h ! Get out o' here with your noise ! " The old hen goes out a few steps. Pretty soon she comes back again. She cackles and squawks worse than ever. Before long she makes me so mad I jump down and pick up a stick and let it fly at her. The old hen jumps and squawks, but the stick hits her. She limps and slides along the floor a little way, and then lies there half on her side. She can't get up. I am sorry I hit her. I go and try to make her get up and walk, but she won't. She just lies there, with her bill open, and bobbing her head. She looks all right, but she does n't get up. I go on with the boxes, but I don't feel comforta- ble. I hope the old hen will be all right before my father finds out. They drive up with a load. My father looks in at me from the top of the load. He says : " How you gettin' along with the berries? " I say : " We 're pretty near through down by the road." My father sees the old hen. He says : " What 's that hen lay in' there for? What's the matter with her?" I look at my father, and then I look away. I say : " Oh, she was squawkin', and I got mad and threw a stick at her." My father says : " Ex-actly, ex-actly ! You 're always gettin' mad and smashin' something or other ! " My father gets down off the load. He swings down from the standard at the front end. He steps onto one of the old mares first, and then down onto the tongue. The old mare lays her ears down, and humps up a little. She shakes her head. My father goes up to the hen. He rolls her over. She moves a little, and tries to get away, but she can't. She lies still again. One of her legs just drags. My father says : " Well, you 've broke her leg, so I s'pose you 're satisfied. A good layin' hen, too ! " He picks the old hen up, and goes out. He says : 243 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE " Well, I s'pose there 's only one thing to do about it." He takes her down toward the wood pile, where the ax is. He does n't look at me. I pack the boxes in the case, and go back to the berry patch. It is so late now that there are hardly any green ones, except where we come to a bush of Mammoth Clusters. They are always later. On the other bushes, we have to be careful to look under the leaves and branches. Sometimes there are great big clusters in there. We get our hands scratched. The backs of mine are all criss-crossed with red streaks. We get through with the black raspberries. I take the case down cellar, and we go to the patch of red ones in the orchard. This will be the first pick ing there. On the way down, we go by the old red-apple tree. It makes me think of my brother. He always boosts me up, and has me shake the apples down. There are some getting red enough now. I wish my brother were here. The red raspberry bushes stand up straight. They have a great many more green leaves. They don't spread like the black raspberry bushes, and they don't have thorns. The berries are big and red. When they are dead ripe they are almost purple. You have to pick them mostly one by one. They don't come off in twos and 244 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE threes, like the black ones. And you have to learn to tell by the looks whether they are ripe enough or not. When you look back, you see all the little round white things the berries came off of. Annie says : " Dey ain't so many prickers on de red rawsberrics as what dey iss on de black, but yoost de same I vould radder pick dose black vones." Pauline says : " Ennahow, you don't haf to stoop ofer so much vit dose red vones." Annie says : " Dat *s all right. You can like de red vones uv you vant to, but I vould n't pick 'em vidout I had to." Pauline says : " Veil, ut don't make any difference vich you vould radder pick. Ve got to pick dese here yoost de same, vedder ve vant to or not. So vot 's de use to kick? " 245 XLII My Mother Hears from Dora That My Brother and Edie Are There THEY drive up with a load of oats and stop by the barnyard gate. They are making the stacks there this year. My father and Ernest start toward the well. I see them coming, and run and draw up a bucket of water. My father says to me : " Been down after the mail yet ? " I say : " No, I had to finish the berries. We just got through with 'em. I 'm goin' right away." My father says : " Will there be another pickin' o' the black ones, do you s'pose ? " I say : " Oh, there '11 be a few quarts, but not many." I start off. My father says : " Hurry back ! I s'pose we '11 be havin' supper as soon as we get this load off." I run down to the store. Mr. White says: " Nothin' but one letter, and the Patriot. But the Patriot don't count. It 's a wonder your father would n't take a decent paper. Any paper 't 11 sup port Garfield 's 'way behind the times." A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Mr. White is always talking that way. My father says it '11 be a long time before any democrat stands the ghost of a show for president. I don't pay much attention to what Mr. White says. I am used to it. I look at the letter to see whether it is in my brother's writing. That 's al ways the first thing we do, ever since they ran away. Edie's mother is always expecting one in Edie's writ ing. I can tell right away that the letter is n't from either of them. It looks like Dora's writing. Dora is my mother's cousin. She lives at Pleasant View. When I look at the post mark, I can make it out. I run back home. They are just sitting down to supper. As soon as I come in, my mother says: "Got any letters?" I say : " Only one from Dora. I guess it 's from her." " I lay the letter on the table by my mother's plate. She says : " Well, come on, and have your sup per!" She takes the letter up and looks it over. Then she lays it down. She says : " I '11 save it till we are through, and I can enjoy it better." After Ernest is through and goes out, my father sits a few minutes. My mother leans back in her chair, and picks up the letter. She says : " Well, I wonder what Dora '11 have to say." She says to me : " Run and get me the scissors, and I '11 open it." 247 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I get up. My father says : " Edie's mother been down yet to-day? *' I come back with the scissors. My mother says : " Not yet. But I expect her any minute. And I s'pose we '11 all go over the same things we been going over every day the last six weeks." My father says : " Ex-actly ! I declare I 've got so I dread her every minute o' the day till she 's been here. She seems to think somehow we can do something, but I don't see how we can help matters any." My mother says : " Serves her right for taking things the way she did. If she 'd only known enough to just let 'cm be! " My mother takes the scissors. She taps the letter on the end, and holds it up toward the window. She wants to make sure and not cut the writing part in side. Then she cuts a little strip off from the end where the stamp is. She cuts it so that it does n't take anything off the stamp. She always opens her letters just like that. My mother takes the letter out of the envelope. She says : " My ! Quite a long letter this time ! " She unfolds it, and begins to read. My father and I look at her face. We think maybe she is going to read it out loud. All of a sudden my mother sits up straight and says: "What!" She reads a little more. She jumps up and waves 248 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the letter over her head, and calls out : " Well, Hi, what do-o you think, the lost are found! As sure as you 're alive, the lost are found ! " My father and I jump up. My father says: " My stars ! you don't say so ! " He runs around to where my mother is. She begins to read again, and he looks over her shoulder. I get up on my tiptoes, but I can't see the writing. I say : " Where are they, huh ? Where are they ? Are they at Dora's ? " My mother says : " Yes, they 're at Dora's, the Lord be thanked ! " They both stop reading, and I stand and wait for them to say something more. My father says : " Well, well, well, well ! If that don't beat all ! " My mother says : " Well, did you ever ! " Once in a while she stops and laughs, and doubles up the hand with the letter in it and strikes it against her leg. Then they read some more. My mother has tears in her eyes. She says : " I don't know but pretty soon I '11 have a fit, if I keep on feeling this way ! " I hear someone out on the gravel walk. Then there is a step on the veranda. Then there is a knock on the mosquito-netting door. My father says : " There ! I '11 warrant you there she is again ! " My mother says to me : " You go to the door, 250 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Bug." She puts the letter in her apron pocket. My father says : " And then you can run and tell Ernest I won't be out till after a little." I can see Edie's mother through the mosquito-net ting door. She is standing sideways. She has her black straw hat on, the one with the green leaves and the smooth red berries. 251 XLIII Edie's Mother Comes Down Just After the Letter Has Been Read I CAN see Edie's mother begin to turn a little when she hears me coming. I open the door. She looks at me, and says : " Is your father or mother at home? " I say : " Yes, they 're right here. Won't you come in ? " She says : " Yes, I think I will, just a minute." My mother is just coming through the door from the kitchen. She has her hand in her pocket, hold ing the letter. Edie's mother starts to say : " I thought I 'd step in on my way by and see if you 'd heard anything to day." That is what she always says. She does n't have time to say it all. My mother takes the letter out and waves it, and says : " Well, the mystery 's solved ! The lost are found ! " Edie's mother stops right in the middle of the floor. She says : " Is it really so ? Are you tell ing me the truth? " Her eyes open wide. She be gins to get red. She does n't know what to do. 252 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says: "No mistake about it! You can rest easy." My mother says: "Yes, they're found, just as sure as you live, and they 're all right. You need n't worry any more." Edie's mother tries to smile. It seems as if she could n't. Her face is ever so red. She says : " Are they married ? " My mother says : " Y r es, they 're married, of course they 're married ! I knew they were married all the time. They 're at Dora's." Edie's mother gets redder than ever. She waits a little while, and kind of fidgets. She says : " Docs the letter say when? Were they married right away ? " My father says : " Oh, you need n't worry, it 's all right. Yes, they were married right away." Edie's mother looks as if she did n't feel quite sure. She says : " Well, of course I don't doubt your word, but I don't see how anybody would marry 'em in this state. She was n't old enough." My mother says : " They did n't get married in this state. Oh, you need n't think I don't know ! It 's just as I tell you. They left here on the mid night train, and went to Town and took the first train south. They got across the line and were married before noon the next day." My father says : " So you 've had a lot of worry all for nothing." 253 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Edie's mother does n't say anything. She just stands there. My mother says : " I declare ! I 've been almost out of patience with you sometimes! I think you might have had a little more faith in 'em and a little more in us, too." Edie's mother takes her handkerchief out. She begins to wipe her eyes. She says : " You must n't be too hard on me. You know I 'm alone without a husband, and Edie was only a little girl." My father says : " Well, anyway, it 's all over now." He stops and scratches his head. He says: " At least, the worst of it 's over." Edie's mother says : " But where have they been all this time? Does it say anything about their com ing home ? I s'pose you '11 let me read the letter my self after a while, won't you? " My mother says: "Why, of course! We just got it a half an hour ago, and we 've hardly read it ourselves yet. They staid a while in the place where they got married, to earn enough to go to Dora's." My mother stops, and says : " But let 's go over the letter again together, and then you '11 know just what it says." They read the letter together. My brother and Edie staid a month in the other state, and then went to Dora's. They got there one night. Dora was sitting by the window with her crochet work, and she 254 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE heard a rap at the door. She opened the door, and there they stood. My mother reads what Dora says in the letter. She says : " Here 's the way she writes it : * You could have knocked me down with a feather ! I never was so surprised in all my born days ! I had them come right in, and got them a good meal. The first thing I asked was whether you knew where they were. As soon as I could, I sat right down to write.' ' My mother says : " They 're going to stay there for a while, and Speckle is going to work on Dora's farm. They don't know yet what they '11 do next." My father says : " There, now, you see it ain't so bad as you thought it was." Edie's mother says : " No, it is n't ! That 's true." Then she says : " But I sha'n't feel easy until they are back where I can see them with my own eyes." Edie's mother gets up to go. She says : " Would you mind letting me read the letter as soon as you 've read it again? I '11 send Johnnie down for it." My mother says : " Oh, take it now. You can send it back when you 're done with it." Edie's mother goes out. My father says: " Well, I don't know as I blame her, after all. It was an awful foolish thing to do." My mother stands looking at the carpet. She says : " Won't there be some way to have 'em come 255 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE home before long? Could n't he work for you, don't you s'pose ? " My father leans in the door with his hands in his pockets. He says : " There 's no tellin' what we will do. It looks now as if he 'd stay down there till fall, though, don't it?" He stands there a while. Then he puts on his hat. He says : " There 's one thing I do know, and that is, that stack 's got to be topped off to-night. There 's every sign o' rain." My father goes out. He stoops a little, and his arms swing. The way he stoops makes his arms seem long. My mother sits down at the secretary desk. She says : " I must send them a letter right off, and tell them we 're glad they 're found." She says to me : " And you must take it down to the office." 256 XLIV My Father and Uncle Anthony Cultivate Corn, and Stop to Talk MY father is cultivating the corn along the road up near the lane. This will be the last time. The corn is getting too big to work in. The old mare has a peach basket tied over her nose. The corn is so high she could nip it if she did n't have the basket. My father says : " It 's a good thing for corn to have the ground stirred pretty often. And then, it roots up the late weeds." My father keeps saying : " Gee ! " and " Haw ! " He has the lines around his shoulders. One is over his right shoulder, and the other is under his left. There is a big knot where they are tied together be hind his back. The old mare does n't want to walk straight be tween the rows. I say : " Shall I ride her, so she '11 go straighter? " My father says : " I don't know but you might, for a while. Of course 't ain't really necessary, but maybe it '11 be easier for me." 257 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father lifts me up until I can get one foot on the tug, near the belly-band. I get hold of the ring where one of the lines goes, and get on. He fixes the lines in the ring, but leaves them so I can hold them to drive with. The old mare's back is too big for me. When she starts, I feel as if I were going to roll off. I catch hold of the hames and hold on to them until I get used to it. Then the back-pad bothers, so I have to put my feet on the tugs to keep myself off it. The tops of the corn rub against my feet, and tickle. When we turn at the end of the row, it makes me think of the steamboats in the river, in Town. The old mare is so slow she hardly moves. When she goes along between the rows, the old mare is always forgetting the peach basket, and stopping to try a nip at the corn. Every time she tries it and does n't get any, she switches her tail. Once she whinners, and makes me jump. She heard her colt, up in the barnyard. Uncle Anthony is cultivating, too, in his lot across the road. We get to the road fence just as he does. His horse has a peach basket on, too. Uncle Anthony stops cultivating, and comes and leans on the top rail of his fence. My father leans on the top rail of ours. They begin to talk to each other across the road. Uncle Anthony says : " Well, I see you got your oats all up in the stack. I finished gettin' mine in 258 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE yesterday. Pretty heavy stand o' straw, was they?" My father says : " Yes, I calculate it '11 keep 'em busy behind the straw-carrier this year." Uncle Anthony says : " Goin' to thrash early ? " My father says: "Oh, just middlin'. I got it all in stacks this year, and I 'm kind o' 'fraid they ain't built up in the middle as much as they might be. I hate to thrash early, but I 'm afraid if I don't they '11 wet in and grow." Uncle Anthony says: "They ain't nothin' like toppin' 'em out with a jag o' hay from the ma'sh, an' let it hang down." If my mother were here and heard Uncle Anthony say " ma'sh," she would have a hard time to keep from laughing. My father says : " Yes, I know. I s'pose 't is all right for sheddin' water. But I don't want none o' your marsh hay for feed. There 's nothin' TO it ! I don't want marsh grass, and I don't want dent corn." Uncle Anthony says : " I don't care much for dent corn myself. I 'm always afraid it won't git ripe before the frost." Uncle Anthony straightens up, and puts his hands on the fence rail. He begins to climb over. My father says : " That 's right ! Come on over, and be sociable." Uncle Anthony walks across the road toward us. 259 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE His vest is unbuttoned, and its sides hang loose. The stem of his old clay pipe sticks out of one pocket. It takes Uncle Anthony quite a while to get to our fence. On the way, he stoops a little and pulls up a timothy stem, and begins to pick his teeth with it. He has his old stained black hat on. When he gets almost to us, he says : " Yes might 's well let the old mares breathe a little. It '11 be good for 'em, and 't won't hurt us, neither." Uncle Anthony leans on the rail near my father. He says : " Well, have you come to any under- standin' about your boy yet? I s'pose your wife 'd like to have 'em come back, would n't she and you, too? You know you ort n't to be too hard on 'em." My father looks down at his feet. He puts one of them up on one of the fence rails. He says : " Yes, to tell you the honest truth, we '11 be glad when we have 'em back. It 's been kind o' lonesome without the boy." My father looks around at me. He says : " You can get down, if you want to." I say : " Oh, I guess I '11 sit here." My father says : " I 'spect it '11 be a couple o' months, though. He 's hired out where he is till about that time." They stand there for a while without saying any thing. Uncle Anthony runs the timothy stem through his teeth, and spits. He spits with a loud 260 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE noise. Afterward he rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. My father says : " I '11 tell you. I 've 'bout made up my mind to let him work the farm. I can keep a little garden patch, and let him run the rest and make what he can. That '11 at least give him a start." Uncle Anthony says : " I think that 'd be a first rate thing to do. I think it 'd be good for both of you." Uncle Anthony picks his teeth some more. He says : " I think it 's about time you begun to take it a little easier 'n what you do." My father says : " I don't know but it is. I ain't what I used to be, that s s the honest truth of it." He says : " Time was when I could carry a forty rod swathe without stoppin' more 'n a couple 261 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE o' times the whole way across. But that time 's past, sure 's you live." Uncle Anthony spits again. It makes a bigger noise than before. He says : " I s'pose you 'd have him work it on shares, would n't you? " My father thinks a while. He says : " Yes, I don' know but I would. Could n't have him take the risk of money rent, the first year though there ain't really any risk. 'T ain't like some of the states where you can never be sure of a crop." Uncle Anthony says : " You 're right about that. Whatever you can say agin our state, you can't say that we ain't always sure o' some kind of a crop." By and by he says : " Well, I think you '11 find the boy '11 do mighty well by you. They ain't no question but they 's a good deal to him. O' course it 'd 'a' been better for 'em to 'a' waited a while, but after all, a boy 't '11 stir around the way he 's done this summer gittin' married and findin' a way to sup port a wife ain't a-goin' to turn out bad." They talk a while about politics, and then Uncle Anthony goes back It takes him quite a while to get over the fence. He begins to cultivate again. My father and I begin again, too. I am tired of sitting on the old mare. She has been trying to get the peach basket off by rubbing it against the rails. 262 XLV Grandpa Tyler Jokes My Father About Hit Clothes THE chores are done. My father and I start down after the mail. My mother says: " Don't be gone too long ! I always like to know whether there are any letters." My father goes down to the store almost every night now. He says : " I kind o' like to hear what they say about politics. You see it '11 be 'lection day in about four or five weeks. Things always get interesting about this time." I say: " Will Garfield be elected president? Mr. White says he won't." My father says : " You need n't pay any 'ten- tion to what he says, nor any other democrat. Gar- field 's goin' to be 'lected president just as sure as 'lection day comes ! " My father has his old grey slouch hat on, and the ragged coat my mother makes fun of. We open the door and go in. Grandpa Tyler is there, sitting on one of the cracker boxes. Old Jerry Dodge is there, too, and Uncle Anthony. Grandpa Tyler is talking when we come in. He 263 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE stops, and looks at my father. He says : " Well, here he is agin ! " He looks as if he were going to joke. He says: "White, by godfrey, did ye ever see such a ol' ragamuffin in all yer life? " He says to my father : " I declare to goodness ! I don't see how you dast go out that way ! I should think you 'd be 'fraid o' gettin' 'rested." Everyone begins to laugh. My father laughs, too. He says : " Don't you worry about what I got on. I like to wear my old clothes out." Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, I must say he can fix up when he wants to, anyhow. When he gits into that broadcloth coat o' hisn, and the vest with the posies on it, and them fine boots 't he 's had since before the flood, and the old plug hat, they ain't no denyin' he 's a sight. Only trouble is, you can't hardly tell 't it 's him." Mr. White says: "Well, I s'pose you want your mail, don't ye? " He goes back behind the mail case. He gives my father a letter and the Pa triot. I can see that the letter is from my brother. We hear from him every few days now. He says they are coming home about Thanksgiving. Grandpa Tyler winks at Mr. White. He says : " Has he told you yet how old Cal was goin' to put him off o' the Scoot the other day, comin' down from the Village?" My father says : " Come, come, Ty, you know 't 264 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ain't any such thing ! Old Cal knew it was me all the time. He was just jokin'. And besides, he only told me to go in the smokin' car. He did n't say to get off at all." Grandpa Tyler looks around, and says : " That 's all right, for him to put it off that way. Well, maybe 't was the smokin' car. Anyway, old Cal taps him on the shoulder, and says to him, says he: 4 Had n't you better go into the smokin' car ? You ain't dressed very nice, to be here with the women passengers.' ' They all laugh at my father. My father says to Mr. White: "Don't you believe anything he says, Ephram ! Cal was only makin' believe he did n't know me, and that 's all there was to it. I could tell by the way he laughed." Grandpa Tyler says : " In a pig's ear he was ! " He winks again. He says : " That 's all right ! " My father unfolds his paper and looks at it. He says : " I wonder what the papers '11 do for news after 'lection day. They '11 be awful uninterestin' for a while, I 'spect." The door latch clicks. We look to see who is com ing. Mr. Purdy and Mr. Walker come in. Every body is surprised. They always get their mail in the afternoon. They almost never come down at night. Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, well, now ! How 's this? I thought you fellers was always to bed by 265 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE this time o' night. Does your folks know where you be? " Mr. Purdy and Mr. Walker always come down to meet the three o'clocks, and go home at five. Every afternoon at quarter to three they come walk ing down the road together. If it is n't winter, they are always in their shirt sleeves. They have their vests unbuttoned, and their arms are always hanging loose, like my father's. Mr. Purdy has white hair and whiskers, and Mr. Walker's is reddish white. Once Aunt Phoebe said to my mother : " I de clare I never knew 'em to miss, rain or shine ! I 've got so 's I don't worry any more 'bout windin' the clock, 'cause if I fergit it, all I have to do is to watch when Purdy and ol' Walker comes along, and set it by them. They 're sure to come by on the way down at quarter to three, almost to the minnit, and they 're just as sure to come along on the way back at quarter to five. They cal'late to git home just in time for supper, an' that 's all." My mother said : " I don't see how they can get much work done, going down every day like that." Aunt Phoebe said : " Bless you, they don't work no more ! All they do is just putter around a little here and there. But then, they never did work a great deal, nohow." By and by she said: "Well, I don't b'lieve I would myself, if I could afford not to." 266 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Then she said: " No, I '11 take that back. After all, I 'd rather wear out than rust out. I 've always said so." 267 XLVI Old Jerry Dodge Is Drunk Again, and Cap Swann Gets a Letter MR. Purdy leans on the counter near the mail case. He says : " Eph, I don't s'pose they 's anything for me, is they? " Mr. White says : " No, course they ain't ! What do you ask that for? You just got your mail, a couple o' hours ago, did n't ye? " Mr. Purdy says : " I did n't know but maybe I might 'a' got somethin' from the west." Mr. White says : " West nothin' ! You never got anything on that train in your life, and you know it as well as I do." Then he says : " But then, I '11 go an' look, if it '11 make you feel any better." Old Jerry Dodge is sitting beside the box with the ashes in it. We know he is a little bit drunk. He almost always is. He forgets which side the ash box is on. He leans over on the wrong side, and spits right on the floor. The spit makes a noise, and Mr. White hears it. He looks at old Jerry through his spectacles. He has to hold his head up to do it. He says : " Come, now, Jerry, what sort o' man- 268 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ners is that? Here I go and get that box to see if we can't sort o' keep things kind o' clean, and you up and spit on the floor. You ought to be 'shamed o' yourself." Jerry says : " Ephram, I am 'shamed ! " He stops a while. He looks right straight in front of him, but as if he did n't see anything very plainly. He says : " Yes, sir, Ephram, the honest truth is, I am 'shamed ! But ye see I been up to the Village, an' I been talkin' politics so much I got all mixed up." Pretty soon old Jerry leans over and almost spits on the wrong side again. Mr. White calls out : " Hey there, Jerry ! Look out ! There you go again ! " He is just in time. Old Jerry leans over on the right side now. He spits. It takes him quite a while. He looks up at Mr. White, and says : " Eph, confound it all, why don't ye have spit-boxes on both sides, anyway? 'T would n't cost ye a great deal more." Mr. White says : " Not much ! One '11 have to be enough. Now, Jerry, mind your eye, or next time you go spittin' on the floor, we '11 have to carry you out on a chip." After a while, Jerry gets up. He says : " Well, I s'pose the ol' lady '11 be expectin' me. She makes a awful fuss if I don't turn up about the time she 's lookin' for me." 269 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE He walks toward the door. He staggers a little. He takes hold of the latch, and turns around, and says : " Ye see, I really come back on the Scoot, but she won't know but what I waited and come on the half past seven. Well, good evenin' to ye, gentle men." He makes a bow. Grandpa Tyler says : " I '11 bet ye anything he don't get by the saloons without stoppin' ! I '11 war rant ye he 's been in one or the other of 'em ever since the Scoot come down." Mr. White says : " She '11 proba'ly know all about it when he gets there. She usually knows what he 's up to. He did that same trick once before, and when she found it out, she says to him : ' Dodge,' says she, ' Dodge, if I 'd 'a' knowed ye was down in the saloons instead of up to the Village where ye said ye was, I 'd 'a' eat ye ! ' She said it right here in front of us. I tell you, I had to laugh." Grandpa Tyler says : " What 'd he say to her? " Mr. White says : " Well, 't would 'a' tickled you to death. Old Jerry he set up, and looked at her, and tried to make out he was sober. He says to her: ' Well, ol' lady,' says he, 'all 7 got to say is, ye 'd 'a' found it mighty tough eatin'!' v Everybody laughs so hard that we don't hear the door latch click. First thing we know, the door is wide open and Cap Swann is coming in. Cap stops at the counter by the mail box. He says : " Good evenin', Eph an' everybody." 270 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Mr. White starts for the mail box. He says : " Cap, I got a letter for ye. It come in on the mornin' train." Cap says : " Well, I 'm glad to hear it." His voice sounds thinner than ever to-night. It sounds as if there were a little wire drawn through it. He says: " What train 'd it come on, Eph? " Mr. White says : " Oh, how do you 'spose I can remember what train it come on? All I can remem ber is, that it come this mornin'. That '11 have to do ye." Cap takes the letter and looks at it. He holds it up to his eyes, near the lamp. He lays it down on the counter and takes his spectacles out. He says : " I 'm all right yit fer a long ways off, but I 'm gittin' so 's I can't make out anythin' clost onless I git my spectacles on." Mr. White says : " I '11 git ye the tongs, if ye say so." Cap says : " No, thank ye, Ephram, I think I can make out." He looks at the letter again. He says : " Well, now, I wonder who it can be from." He turns the letter over. Then he holds it up against the lamp chimney. Then he looks at the post mark. He says : " Can't see the post mark, so they 's no tellin' by that." He looks at the writing again. He looks at the post mark again. 271 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE He says : " It can't be from Jonas, 'cause I got one from him last week." Cap stands holding the letter in both hands, look ing at it. Mr. White says : " Well, maybe ye could tell by lookin' inside." He winks at Grandpa Tyler. He says : " That 's the way 7 do when I can't tell no other way." Cap says : " Eph, that 's a good idee ! First class ! " He acts as if he were going to open the letter, but he does n't. He goes over behind the stove and sits down on the box beside Grandpa Tyler. He puts the letter in his pocket, and begins to take his spectacles off. Grandpa Tyler says : " What, ain't ye goin' to open it after all? " Cap says : " No, I 'm goin' to save it till I git home. I '11 read it to-morrow mornin'. It '11 make good Sunday readin'." He folds his spectacles up, and puts them in his upper vest pocket. Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, by godfrey ! That 's a great way to do ! Now s'posin' it 's a let ter from your girl, how do you s'pose she 'd like it, to have you not carin' any more 'bout her letter 'n that?" " Cap says : " Well, now I know you 're gittin' hard up for somethin' to say." But we all laugh at the idea of old Cap having a girl. Mr. White says : " By the way, Cap, how 's your 272 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE perpetual motion machine gettin' on? Maybe that 's what your letter 's about." We all knew perpetual motion would be sure to come up. Cap says : " That 's all right, Eph, but I '11 tell you one thing. If I had that there tongue o' yourn, they would n't be no more trouble 'bout perpetchal motion. Could n't anybody stop that if he wanted to that 's jest as sure as my name 's Peleg Swann." 273 XLVII Mr. White Talks Politics, and Mr. Purdy Is Disgusted CAP Swann reaches out and puts his hand on the stove. There is no fire in it. Cap says : " Eph, how much longer 'fore you 're goin' to begin to have a fire in yer old stove? " Grandpa Tyler looks up and says : " Yes, I was just goin' to inquire about that myself. Ain't it 'bout time you was doin' somethin' to make your cus tomers comf 'table? You'd make enough out o' the extry trade to pay for the wood." Mr. White sniffs. He says: "Customers! Anybody might think, to hear him talk, 't he bought his stuff here, instead o' goin' to Town for it." Grandpa Tyler begins to laugh. He winks at my father and the rest of us. He says : " Come, now, don't take on so ! Don't I buy all my postage stamps of ye?" We all laugh. Mr. White walks over to the ash- box. He goes " hep, hep," and then spits. He does n't say anything. Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, if you want decent 274 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE folks to trade with ye, why in the world don't you come down on yer prices? You can't expect any body to pay two prices for everything they buy." Mr. White spits again. He backs up to the coun ter, and puts his hands on it behind him, and lifts himself up with a little jump till he sits on it. He says : " Tyler, you know as well as I do that I don't put anything on except what the freight out from Town costs me." Grandpa Tyler looks around at all of us. He laughs. Mr. White says : " You folks 't goes to Town for your stuff don't save enough on what you buy to pay for your wagon grease. If you 'd buy o' me instead o' the stores in Town, I could sell as cheap as anybody." Grandpa Tyler laughs again. He says : " There, now, look at that! Contradicts himself at every breath ! First it 's 'cause he has to pay freight, and then it 's 'cause we don't paternize him. You can't tell a thing by what he says. I never see any body so onreliable. You can't depend on him!" We all laugh again. We know Grandpa Tyler is only making believe. Mr. White knows it, too, but sometimes he forgets. Mr. White says : " Oh, go 'long with ye ! " He gets down from the counter, and goes over and spits again. He says : " Well, to come back to what you was 275 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE sayin', you need n't think you 're goin' to get warm off 'n me, not for a good month to come. I don't be lieve in warmin' the hull neighborhood when they got wood o' their own." He says : " And besides, you republicans '11 all be warm enough by four weeks from next Tuesday. You won't need any fire to keep you warm." Grandpa Tyler says : " By godfrey ! I would n't be surprised if the ol' cuss really thought Hancock was goin' to be 'lected ! " Mr. Walker says : " Well, if he does, all I got to say is 't he 's goin' to git fooled. They ain't never goin' to be no more democrat presidents in this country." He talks as if he were cross. Mr. White talks right on as if he hadn't heard what they said. He says : " We 're goin' to make it so hot for ye 't ye won't cool off by Christmas. I don't expect to see one of ye down here after the mail again after 'lection for six weeks. You '11 all be sendin' the boys." Cap Swann begins to laugh. It sounds like cack ling. He says : " A T o, sir, this country ain't a-goin' to let itself be governed agin by no such party as the democrat party. Why, Eph, they 'd be war agin in less 'n a week. We can't afford to go through all that fightin' again, an' what 's more, we ain't a-goin' to. I know what I 'm talkin' about. I spent four years o' my life in the ranks, an' I tell ye I know ! " Mr. Purdy says : " Yes, and the democrat party 276 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE killed my boy. If it had n't been for them, he 'd 'a' been alive to-day. Ephram, I don't see how you can stand there and talk like that, after all we been through to save the Union." Mr. White says: "War nothin'! That's all poppycock, and you know it ! The democrat party as a party never had nothing to do with the war, and you know it as well as anybody. It 's the only party the country 's ever had that 's had a principle. It 's the only party to-day that 's got a principle." Mr. Walker sniffs. He says : " Principle ! Well, I '11 be darned!" My father says : " Humph ! " Mr. White goes on. He says : " And we 're goin' to show ye, this time ! They ain't a state that you 're likely to kerry in the hull country, unless maybe Rhode Island, and you can walk all around that be fore breakfast." Mr. White keeps on that way. Pretty soon Mr. Walker gets up. He says to Mr. Purdy : " Chet, 't ain't a-goin' to pay to set an' listen any longer to his lyin'. Le' 's go on home ! " Mr. Purdy gets up, and they both start for the door. Mr. White says : " Come, now, don't go off mad ! You know you proba'ly can't help bcin' republicans anyway, and I don't s'pose you ever will, unless you take a decent paper in place of your good-for-nothing old Patriot." 277 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Mr. Walker sniffs. He snaps out : " Well, it 's a good deal better 'n any o' your ol' democrat papers, anyhow ! " When they are gone, Mr. White laughs, and says : " They never can stand it more 'n about so long, and then they have to git up and go. They can't never argue without gettin' mad over it." He goes over to the ash box. He says: " Well, I s'pose it 's kind o' mean, but I sort o' like to git 'em goin' that way." Grandpa Tyler gets up. He says : " Well, Eph, your talk is mighty entertainin', specially when a feller thinks o' what 's goin' to happen the first Tues day after the first Monday o' next month. But I got to go. An' I guess it 's about time you shut up, too, ain't it? Must be mighty nigh onto nine o'clock." My father puts the Patriot and the letter into his coat pocket. We all get up. Grandpa Tyler says : " Well, good night, Ephram. You can count on our feelin' sorry for you again after 'lection, same as usual." He says to my father : " I s'pose we ought to let him talk all he wants to before 'lection, while he 's got a chance. He never gits no chance afterwards." Mr. White does n't say anything. Grandpa Tyler speaks louder, so Mr. White can't pretend he does n't hear. He says : " By godf rey, Hi, I 'd hate awful to be a democrat! Wouldn't you?" 278 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Mr. White says : " Don't you worry about me! Only four weeks more, and you '11 the hull o' ye be 'round tryin' to make me believe you voted the demo crat ticket." Grandpa Tyler says: " Just hear the-ol' cuss go on! Did ye ever hear anything like it? I never did!" 279 XLVIII My Father and I Get Ready to Make a Sunday Visit I HAVE just opened my eyes. There is bright light in the room. The feather bed is nice and warm. My face feels fresh and cool, and the air smells good. I know it is a nice day. My window is open. I hear a hen cackling, and one of the cows is going : " M-m-m-mma-a-a ! " She does n't do it very loud, and between times I can hear her pulling at the grass next to the barnyard fence. There are a couple of birds in the evergreen tree outside my window. It is so still that I remem ber it is Sunday. I hear the stair door open. My mother calls up the stairway : " Bre-e-eak-fa-a-ast ! " She does n't call very loud. She says: "Are you 'wake? If you 're going with your pa to-day you 'd better get up and get dressed. Put on your Sunday clothes ! " All at once I remember. If it is a good day, we are going over to Aunt Caty's. I jump out of bed and put one of my new calico shirts on, and my black pants. 280 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I put shoes on, too. I don't like the shoes, and I don't like the coat and vest and collar and stiff hat. I 'd much rather go barefoot and in my shirt sleeves, and wear my old felt hat the one that is so old and out of shape that my mother calls it my foolscap. Foolscap is the name of the paper I get at the store for examinations. That 's how she came to call it that. But my mother always says : " Goodness gracious me ! What would they think of us if we let you go over there looking like that? " I look out of the window through the evergreen branches. My father has just opened the road gate, and the cows are going out. There is a lot of dew on the grass. The air is so cool and fresh that I want to get out in it. I run down stairs and out of the front door, and across the front yard to the road. I say to my father: " Pa, are we going? " My father starts up the gravel walk toward the house. The walk is packed down hard. It has flat weeds in some places. I keep looking at him to see what he is going to say. My father says : " Yes, I guess it 's goin' to be a first rate day, and we 'd better go, for fear we sha'n't get another." He says : " We Ml let the cows eat along the road, and then we '11 turn 'em into the lane when we come along." I say : " Are we going right away? " 281 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " Yes, better run in and get your breakfast, and be all ready. It takes quite a while to drive over, and we want to be there before it gets too hot." I go in and have some bread and milk. The milk is warm, because my father just brought it in. My father changes his clothes, and slicks his hair and whiskers a little. Then he goes out to the barn. I hear the clock strike eight. We never turn the cows out as late as that on week days. My mother brushes my hair, and gets me a clean paper collar. She helps me fasten my little blue and white tie on. It has a little rubber loop that goes around the button. Pretty soon my father drives up to the woodshed door. I hear the front wheels bump over the planks in the walk, and then he stops. Just as I get to the door, he is saying: " Well, where are you? " I get in. It is the old buggy that rattles so. My mother stands in the door. She says : '* Now, don't you both go and kill yourselves eating over there ! " My father laughs. My mother says: "Well, good-bye ! I s'pose you '11 be home in time for sup per?" My father says : " Yes, I s'pose you can look for us about five or half past. We '11 try not be very late." My mother says : " Of course, if you want to stay longer, we can manage to get along for once." 282 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " No, you can look for us." He gives the lines a little pull. He says : " Well, get along ! " The old mares wiggle their ears, and start. The hind wheels bump over the planks, and we go out along the row of asparagus. When we turn into the road, the buggy dips and the springs hit together. They are always doing that, they are so limber. My father flicks old Judy. We begin to trot. The wheels make a noise on the gravel, and the spokes rattle. My father says : " I wish I 'd 'a' poured a pail o' water over the tires, to kind o' tighten 'em up. But maybe we '11 be goin' through some puddles some where. That '11 stop 'em. I s'pose I '11 have to have 'em set again one o' these days." I look back. My mother is leaning in the wood shed door, watching us. She has her arms folded. 283 XLIX We Drive to Aunt Caty's and Uncle DaneVs THE old mares trot along till we are near the lane. I jump out and drive the cows in, and shut the gate. We go on up the church hill. When we are in front of the church, I think of Sunday school. I am glad I don't have to go to-day. I don't mind getting verses by heart and saying them, but I don't like dressing up and sitting in such a noise. Besides, the songs are n't interesting. And Lije's mother sits too close to me, and Lije's father prays too long. He is the Sunday school superin tendent. Tip is over on his front steps. I wave my hand to him, and he waves back. He is whittling some thing. We go past the schoolhouse and Purdy's. My father has the lines wound around his left hand. He jerks a little on them two or three times, and makes a whistling sort of sound. The old mares lay their ears back a little, but they keep on walking. My father jerks some more. He says: "Come! Come ! Come ! Come ! We 're never goin' to get 284 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE there at this rate." Then the old mares switch their tails, and walk a little faster. We think they are go ing to trot, but they don't. They begin to walk again. My father takes the whip out of the socket and flicks the old mares on the back. They start up now, and trot along past Steiner's and a few steps up the next hill. My father says: " Don't you want to take your coat off? It '11 be pretty warm by and by." I take my coat off and lay it on the seat. In a little while we are where we can look down Bradley's hill and across the tamarack swamp to Bernard's. There the road goes up again. Bernard's hill looks terribly long and steep, but we know it really is n't. It is only the way we see it, from so far and so high. The road through the swamp is muddy. There is water on both sides. The tamaracks are so close I can almost touch them. They are so thick you can hardly get through, and it is boggy and wet in there. Once Tip and I came over here after tamarack gum. We got a lot of it, but it was too bitter. We chewed it a long time, and made believe we liked it, but we did n't. The rubber gum that we get at the store is a good deal better. While we are going up Bernard's hill, my father says : " See if you can make out the new grave. Can you?" 285 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We look across the stubble field to some trees with a fence around them. That is their burying ground. They have one all to themselves. We think we can see the new grave. It is where one of the Bernard boys was buried last winter. He was brought home from out west. My father and I went to the funeral. They had it at the house. We stopped at Mr. Purdy's, and he went with us. I say: "Who else is buried there?" My father says : " Well, for one, there 's Bernard himself, the father." I don't remember anything about him. I say: "Who was he?" My father says : " Oh, he was before your time." I say: " Did you know him? " My father says : " No, not so very well. He was a German. They say he was a well educated man, and a fine musician. They say he was n't very happy here, so far away from where he was brought up." My father says to the old mares : " Come, come ! Don't stop just because it 's a little up hill." He says to me : " We are apt to forget that the Germans must get pretty lonesome sometimes, 'way over here." We go past the house. I see the door where they carried the coffin out. The steps are steep, and they turn, and it was hard for them to get it down. The room was ever so small where they had him. When we went in to look at him, there was a boy that stood 286 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE there and looked all the time till they came and screwed the cover on. Before long we come to the South Plank. My father says: " Well, which way shall we go? Shall we turn down the Plank, or go on to the town line? " I say : " Oh, le' 's go the Plank way, and come back the other way." 287 My Father Tells Me About the Plank Road and Early Times THE old mares like the Plank. They turn to the left without any pulling on the lines at all. We go about half a mile, and there is a big white house. It has a great many green blinds. There is a saloon in one part of it. My father says : " That house used to be a tavern, in the early days." Back beyond the house there is a field, and then a piece of timber. Last winter they shot a grey wolf there. No one had seen a wolf wild for a long time, but there used to be plenty of them when people first came. My brother wrote about it for the paper. My father says : " Don't you remember what the paper said about the wolf? Well, this is the place." A little farther on, we come to a queer little house that stands right at the edge of the road. I say : " Why do they have that house so close to the road? " My father says : " That used to be a toll house. The man that kept the gate lived there." I don't understand. My father explains it. He 288 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE says : " You see, they call this the South Plank be cause it really was a plank road once. There was another called the North Plank, the other side of our house, away over beyond the burying ground. There were n't any railroads in early times, and they made the plank roads from the city out through here so the farmers could draw their wheat and things to Town. They used to charge, and every couple of miles there was a toll gate. But the railroads came, and the planks wore out, and now you would n't know they 'd ever been here." We come to another old house. Its blinds are shut tight, and the paint is all worn off. My father says : " There 's another of the old taverns. People used to stop over night in 'em. They lived so far away it took two or three days, and sometimes a week, to go to Town and back." After a while he says : " They used to have dances here in the early days, too. That was before there were so many Germans. The taverns were n't like the saloons. Folks used to come from miles around. But it 's got so we don't have so many dances now, at least among the old-timers." After a mile or so, we turn. The rest of the way is straight south. There is the big elm tree where we cross the town line, and then a long level road that gets so muddy at one place that my father is afraid something will happen to the buggy. The old mares make a great sucking noise with 289 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE their feet. There are logs sticking out of the mud on both sides. When we get where the road is harder, my father whips up the old mares. The buggy wheels don't rattle now. My father turns in the seat, and looks back. He says : " That 's what you call a corduroy road or that 's what it was once. I 'in always glad when I get through that place. The going 's 'most always pretty good except that one stretch." By and by he says : " It always makes me think o' the time your ma and I was married." I say: "Why?" My father says : " You know I married her over at Durham, where she lived. That was sixteen miles from home, seven the other side of Aunt Caty's. I drove over, and then it rained. The going was so bad I had to leave her there and walk home. I was station agent then, and o' course I had to be on tap early in the morning. Your Uncle Charles brought her and the rig over afterwards. That was in '59. Le' 's see, that was about 'levcn years before you come to town." The old mares hardly move. As soon as my father began to talk, they stopped trotting and began to walk. They always do that, unless he uses the whip on them. He sits leaning over a little bit, with his left arm across his knee, and forgets all about them. We go up a long hill that is n't very steep, and 290 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE then down past a marsh, and then up again along some woods. The woods belong to Cousin Sylvanus. Cousin Alvarus lives opposite them. When we get to the top of the hill, we can see Aunt Caty's. They live in a valley, with hayfields and stubble and cornfields all around, and hickory nut trees here and there. On the other side there are some stony hills, that are pastures for the sheep. Aunt Caty's house is white, and has green blinds. It is a big, low house. It is half covered up by ever greens and fruit trees. Across from the house is the horse barn. It is right by the road. It is red, with white trimmings. The hay barn is farther back, but that is not painted. My father says : " I guess you 'd better put on your coat and hat now, hadn't you? You know your ma wants you to be dressed up when you go to see other folks." 291 LI We Find Cousin Delia Feeding the Chickens and Turkeys MY father says : " There 's Delia, sure 's you live! I never knew it to fail! Seems 's if every time we come she was out feeding the chickens just the way she is now." Cousin Delia is in the road in front of the red horse barn. She is standing there with turkeys and chickens all around her. She has a calico dress and apron on, and a blue and white checked calico sun- bonnet. She is feeding the chickens and turkeys. That is always her work. She likes it. We begin to turn in toward the horse barn before Cousin Delia looks up. At first she does n't know us, but it is only a second. As soon as she is sure who we are, she sets her pail down. The old mares stop. Cousin Delia says: "Well, I declare! You 've come again, haven't you? I 'm glad to see you, Uncle Hiram ! " Cousin Delia is almost as old as my father, and I always think it is queer for her to call him uncle. But she is really his niece, and she is my cousin, even if she is so much older than I. 292 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We get out of the buggy. Cousin Delia shakes hands with my father. She says : " Well, how do you do ? " Then she shakes hands with me, and says : " And how do you do? " I like the way Cousin Delia says it. She does n't talk fast, and her voice always sounds as if she meant it. She ends some of her sentences with a kind of jerk. Cousin Delia picks up a tin pail full of big brown eggs. She says : " Well, I '11 go right in and tell the folks. They '11 be ever so glad to see you." She goes across the road to the gate in the old white picket fence. My father and I begin to un hitch. I unsnap the tugs on my side. We don't more than get started before we see Cousin Sylvanus coming down the path from the house. He must have seen us before we got out, be cause Cousin Delia is only through the gate. Cousin Sylvanus is in his shirt sleeves, and has an old straw hat on. He has a hickory shirt, the same as my father wears. He stoops a little, too, and his arms swing, just like my father's. He has shaggy hair and shaggy grey whiskers. He holds his head back as he comes down the path, and keeps looking. I know he is n't quite sure who we are. Cousin Sylvanus is glad to see us, too. I can tell, because he says things just like Cousin Delia, only he breaks off shorter. He shakes hands with us. He says : " Well ! 293 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Well! Well! Well! I-I 'm just as glad to see you as I-I can be ! " Cousin Sylvanus stammers the least bit sometimes when he is excited. He begins to help us unhitch. He says : " I tell you, you-you can't come too often to suit us ! " We got almost through with the unhitching. Cousin Sylvanus says : " Here, you let me take care of 'em, and you go to the house. The folks '11 want to see you." My father says : " Oh pshaw ! We '11 help put 'em in, and all go in together." Cousin Sylvanus says : " All right, then." Pretty soon he says : " Best give 'em some water now, or wait a while till they 're cooler? " My father laughs. He says : " I guess there ain't any danger o' their bein' too warm. It 's took us two hours to come nine miles ! " They take the horses by the bridles. Cousin Syl vanus says: "How's the goin'? Pretty poor, I s'pose. It 's pretty poor between here and Town, I know. M-mighty poor ! " They lead the horses to the trough. Old Judy puts her nose down, but she won't drink. She only snorts. Cousin Sylvanus says : " I s'pose she don't like the smell o' the water. 'T ain't what she 's used to, you see." He waits a while. He says : " Well, maybe she '11 294 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE change her mind by the time she 's had her oats." My father says: "Well, anyway, she drank mid- dim' good before we come away. I guess she ain't suffering for water." Cousin Sylvanus puts the old mares in the stalls. He gets the fork and gives them hay. We hear them begin to crunch it. Cousin Sylvanus says to me : " You-you must n't get too near the old white's heels. I never knew him to kick yet, but as a rule you can't be too care ful around strange horses." We stand in the door a while. It is nice and warm and sunshiny. The hens are cackling. Once in a while one of the old turkeys gobbles. I am not used to turkeys. My father says : " I see you ain't thrashed yet." Cousin Sylvanus says : " No, there 's no hurry about it. I always like to thrash late. It 's good for the grain to have a chance to sweat out in the stack. If I was sure prices would n't go down, I-I would n't thrash till real cold weather. N-no sir ! " My father says : " Don't your stacks ever wet in?" Cousin Sylvanus says : " Not a bit of it ! " He says it as short as can be, but I know he is n't the least bit cross. We are used to the way he talks. He says : " No, there 's no danger if you only build 'em right. All you have to do is keep the mid dle good and full and put a good cover o' marsh hav 295 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE on, and they won't wet in a bit not if you leave 'em out till Christmas ! " He takes a step or two away from the door. He says : " But le' 's go in ! Father and mother and the girls '11 be wonderin' why we don't come." Cousin Sylvanus and my father always call them the girls. 296 LII Cousin Sylvanus and All the Rest Are Glad to See Us WE cross the road and go into the yard. The old picket fence leans a little. The gate strikes the ground when Cousin Sylvanus opens it. We go up the path along the side of the house. It is hard black dirt, and there are plantains on the edges. We go around to the back door. They don't use their front door, so there is n't a path going up to it. The parlor is in the front part. The front yard is all evergreens, and the ground is covered with needles. They are brown, and there are brown cones here and there. We go up the back steps. We stop to scrape and rub our feet. We know the kitchen floor will be as clean as can be. Cousin Sarah is in the kitchen. When we open the door and go in, she is just putting some wood in the stove. Cousin Sarah is black-eyed, and she is small. Her hair is smoothed down on both sides. Her voice is soft. She comes up to us and shakes hands, and smiles. 297 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE She says : " We 're so glad to see you, Uncle Hiram ! It has been quite a long time since you 'vc been to see us." She says to me : " And we 're glad to see you, too." She shakes hands with me, and puts her hand on my head. She says : " Why, how you do grow ! " We start toward the sitting room door. Cousin Sarah says : " I thought I 'd make up a little fire so as to have it ready for Delia. But go right in, go right in ! " We go through the door into the sitting room. It is cool and clean in there. It smells of the rag carpet, too, just as it does in our sitting room at home. Only they have straw under their carpet. It is soft when we walk on it, and does n't make any noise. As soon as we open the door, Cousin Juliette comes up to us and takes hold of our hands. You can hardly hear her walk. Her hands are warm and soft, and her voice sounds that way, too. I like to have her look at me. Her hair is getting white. Aunt Caty and Uncle Danel are right behind Cousin Juliette. They are both very old and very white. Uncle Danel has a cane. He is in his shirt sleeves, and his vest is open. He has bunches of thin white whiskers near his ears. Aunt Caty stoops a good deal, and has trouble in walking. They shake hands with us. Aunt Caty says : " Hiram, how are ye? " 298 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Uncle Danel says : " Hi, we 're real glad to see ye again ! " Then Aunt Caty says : " We 'd 'a' been out to the barn to meet ye, but we don't stir 'round 's much 's we used to." Aunt Caty's voice is always a little hoarse. She speaks quickly. Uncle Danel does n't speak so quickly. He says : " No, we 're gettin' old. That 's the 'mount of it. But come ! Have a chair ! Have a chair ! " We sit down. I sit on the sofa, near the window. There is a pillow on it at the end that is in the corner of the room. There is a nail in the window casing, and an almanac hanging there by a pink string. A pair of scissors hangs there, too. Uncle Danel's big silver watch and chain are hanging on a hook away up high on the other wall. They have a mantel behind their stove, with the clock on it. Their clock is like ours, only it has col umns at the sides of the door, and General George Washington in the door, instead of just a looking- glass. He is in a blue and yellow uniform, and has his hand stretched out. He is commanding some thing. His head is gone, and part of his left arm. When the clock strikes, it is like a little bell. Ours is n't that way. Theirs says : " Ding-ding-ding- ding," but ours says : " Dong . . . dong . . . dong ! " Ours is a good deal slower. Cousin Juliette says to me : " I '11 go and see if I 299 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE can't get you something to amuse yourself with while they are talking." She goes out by the door that leads into the hall and the parlor. She comes back with the stereoscope and some pictures, and some books. She always gets something for me that way. They begin to ask my father about my mother. Aunt Caty says : " I wish you could get her to come along with you oftener. O' course she understands she 's more 'n welcome." My father says : " Oh, of course ! But you see she don't quite like to leave the house alone all day, with none of us anywhere near." Aunt Caty says : " Well, 't is quite a while to leave a house all alone. I don' know as I blame her!" My father says : " It '11 be different when the young married folks get back." Uncle Danel says : " I understand you really ex pect 'em back about Thanksgivin'. At least that 's what you wrote in your last letter. Well, well, well ! You '11 be real glad, won't you, both of you? " Aunt Caty says : " Well, I guess they will ! " Cousin Sylvanus says : " Of course they will ! " Cousin Delia says : " Well, I should say as much!" Aunt Caty says : " You need the boy at home, too, Hi. You ain't no business workin' so hard, at your time o' life." 300 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Cousin Sylvanus says : " O' course you can keep a man, but you know as well as I do that a man don't take things off o' your shoulders. N-no, sir! " Cousin Delia says : " Of course he don't. The fact is, sometimes I think they make it harder." My father says : " Well, I 've had to put up with a good deal from 'em, but of course I can't choose. If I could, by jolly! I wouldn't have one of 'em on the place. I 'd do every bit o' my own work." He says : " And I would n't have a machine on the place, either ! " Aunt Caty says: "Well, Hiram, you always did like to be independent, even when you was a boy." Uncle Danel looks at me. He says : " I s'pose you do quite a little to help your pa, don't you? " Cousin Juliette says : " Of course he does. Don't you ? " I say : " I can carry bundles and set 'em up. And I can bind." Aunt Caty says : " Why, ain't that too hard for a little boy like you? " My father says : " Oh, what he does in the harvest field don't 'mount to so very much. But he helps ma a lot, and he managed the berry pickin' for me this summer." Aunt Caty says : " You don't say he did ! Well, well, well ! Now I call that mighty smart, for a boy o' his years." My father and Aunt Caty and Uncle Danel talk 301 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE about York State and the time they came west. It was in '39. Aunt Caty says : " I remember the roads when we came out from Town. They was just dreadful! Fact o' the matter is, they wa'n't no roads. They wa'n't a shovelful of gravel between here and Town ! " They talk about Batavia, where they came from. My Uncle Abe and my father came a little after the others. Uncle Abe lived four or five miles away. He is dead, and Aunt Nancy and the boys live alone. My father says: "Heard from Jane lately? She 's got some queer notions in her head these last years, and they say you can't talk 'em out of her." Aunt Caty says : " Yes, I understand she has. I never hear from her any more, though. Thinks Pete is alive yet somewhere, don't she? " My father says : " No, not exactly that. But she sticks to it that Pete is being changed all the time from one graveyard to another underground, I s'pose. You just can't do anything with her. She won't have it any other way." Aunt Caty says : " Too bad ! And she 'pears to be all right every other way, too, don't she? " My father says : " Straight as a string ! " By and by he says : " Well, she 's got some good boys, anyway. They '11 take good care of her." Uncle Danel says : " Yes, you 're right about that! She has got some mighty good boys. And so 's Nancy. I don't think they 've got a bad habit 302 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE among 'em. They don't drink nor swear, nor use tobacco in any form, and they 're good workers." Cousin Sylvanus says : " Of course they are ! There ain't a shif 'less bone in their body ! " Uncle Danel says: " That 's just as true as you live. They 're as reliable as they can be. You can depend upon 'em every time." Cousin Delia comes in. She stands there until Uncle Danel is through talking. Then she says to Cousin Juliette : " Juliette, I s'pose you and Sarah might be setting the table." She goes back to the kitchen to get the things off the stove. Cousin Juliette and Cousin Sarah pull the table into the middle of the room, and spread a clean table cloth. Then they go to the pantry and bring the plates and things. You can hardly hear them step. You can hear the clock tick while they are going back and forth. LIII We Have Broiscn Eggs, Hot Biscuits, and Pear Preserves for Dinner AUNT CATY gets to thinking of something else. All of a sudden she looks up. She gives her head a quick jerk when she does it, so she can look straight through her spectacles. She says : " Well, I guess the girls have got the dinner on. S'posin' we have somethin' to eat. Sha'n't we?" We all get up. Uncle Danel and Aunt Caty grunt when they get up. They move slowly. Cousin Sylvanus sits down at his place, and leans back. He sits in an arm-chair that will tilt without the legs moving. Cousin Juliette says to my father : " Uncle Hi ram, won't you sit here, by mother? " She says to me : " Here, I 've brought the dic tionary for you to sit on. I 'm sorry we have n't a high-chair for you. But I guess you '11 get along." Uncle Danel says : " You see it *s a long time since we 've had a baby in the house. If it was n't for your boy and Melindy's girls, Hi, we 'd forget what childern was like, I 'm 'fraid." 304 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " I 'm in hopes Melindy '11 be over sometime before we go back." Melinda is an other of the girls. Aunt Caty says : " I should n't wonder a bit if she did. They often come over Sundays." We have meat and potatoes and sweet corn, and there is a big white bowl full of the brown eggs. Uncle Danel begins to dish the meat and potatoes. When it comes my turn, Uncle Danel says to my father : " Well, what shall I give the boy ? " My father says : " Oh, he '11 eat anything you 've got ! You can depend on him every time. He 's al ways got a first rate appetite." Cousin Sarah passes the corn. She says : " I guess this is about the last of our sweet corn. It 's held out later than usual this year. Won't you have some? " The eggs have brown specks on them. We tap them with our knives, and take the shell off. They are hard-boiled. Aunt Caty says : " Somehow I never care for 'em soft-boiled. They make such a mess on yer plate. I don't like the taste of 'em so well, either." Cousin Sylvanus says : " No, nor I ! " Cousin Delia says : " Nor I ! " All three of them speak short. My father does, too. Cousin Juliette and Cousin Sarah always speak softly. Aunt Caty says: " Sarah, I thought ye had some 305 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE biscuits. Did n't ye? Seems to me a while ago 's if I smelled 'em." Cousin Sarah lifts up a fresh, white napkin, and there under it is a plate of nice white biscuits. She passes them to Aunt Caty. Aunt Caty takes a biscuit, and passes them to my father. She says : " Hiram, have a biscuit. And take one for the boy." My father takes a biscuit for himself, and gives me one. Then he reaches for another. He says: " Hold on, here ! I guess I better take two for him, while I 'm about it. They don't last him very long." I feel warm in the face. Everything is good, but the biscuits are the best. Cousin Sarah always makes them. They are white outside and inside, and light, and smoking hot when you open them. They have their butter white at Aunt Caty's, and put in plenty of salt. I like it that way. The biscuits are good with the meat and potato and egg, but they are best of all with the pear pre serves. Cousin Juliette says : " We 're only just using up the last of our last year's preserves." My father looks toward the south window. He says: " Is the tree bearin' as usual this year? " Cousin Juliette says : " Yes, it is. It does n't hang quite so full as last year, but there '11 be plenty 306 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE for our own use. We always have all the pears we want. Goodness me ! I don't know what we should do without them. I don't believe there has ever been a year without some." Cousin Sylvanus says : " I s'pose I better get at it and pick 'em one o' these next few days." My father says : " Well, I never could have any luck with pears." Aunt Caty says : " Why, goodness, 't aint no trouble to raise pears! The tree just stands there, and bears. We don't do anything to it ! " I don't like to ask for more biscuits. I don't know what I 'd do if it were n't for Cousin Juliette. Some how she always passes them before I have been with out very long. I have quite a good many. My father notices. He says : " You must n't eat too many ! " I feel warm in the face again. I look down. I remember what my mother said about eating. I wish my father would n't say things like that. Cousin Juliette laughs a little. She says : " Oh, let him have all he wants, he likes them so well ! You know they 're awfully small. I often tell Sarah I think she makes them too small. And they J re light. I don't think they '11 hurt him a bit." Cousin Sylvanus says : " I don't either. Not a bit of it ! " * Cousin Delia says: "Nor I!" Aunt Caty says : " Of course they won't ! Who 307 ever heard o' such a thing? He's a growin' boy, ain't he?" Aunt Caty talks almost as if she were cross. But I know she is n't, a bit. When we are all through, they lean back a little while, and talk. Cousin Sylvanus puts his elbows on the arms of his chair, and puts his fingers and thumbs against each other, over his stomach. Uncle Danel says : " I wish Melindy and Hale and the girls 'd come over. I expect Alvarus will come in at least, if he saw you. Did you notice when you come by ? " Cousin Alvarus lives at the last place before we come to Aunt Caty's. He has a great many sheep. By and by everybody gets up. Cousin Juliette and Cousin Sarah clear the table. Cousin Juliette takes the table cloth and shakes it out of the south door, and folds it, and puts it away. They spread the every day cloth on, and push the table back against the wall again. We can hear Cousin Delia beginning to wash the dishes. Cousin Sarah and Cousin Juliette go out where she is. They are going to wipe the dishes and set them away. Uncle Danel and Aunt Caty lean back in their chairs. Pretty soon they begin to nod. Aunt Caty's glasses fall off. She puts a news paper over her head, and goes to sleep. Uncle Danel lies down on the sofa. The clock 308 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE strikes once. It is half past twelve. They always begin dinner before twelve. They have breakfast at just twenty minutes to seven. Cousin Sylvanus says to my father : " Sha'n't we go out and 'tend to the horses now? " They start for the barn. I walk along behind them. 309 LIV We Feed the Horses, and Get a Basket of Sweet-Apples COUSIN SYLVANUS says: Le' 's see, how many oats do you 'low 'em? " My father says: "Oh, when they travel, I usu ally give 'em about four quarts." Cousin Sylvanus gets the oats. The old mares whinner when they hear him coming. We stand by the door quite a while. Cousin Syl vanus and my father talk about the crops and the weather. I go and look out of the back door at the sheep in the meadow. We don't have sheep on our farm. We go back into the yard. We go to the garden and look at the tomatoes and the melon vines. Cousin Sylvanus says : " The frost 's held off pretty well so far, but I 'spect one o' these days we '11 catch it." We go over to the sweet-apple tree. There are a lot of them on the ground. Cousin Sylvanus says : " You '11 have to take a basket of 'em home with you. They 're poor keep- 310 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE ers, but I should n't wonder if you could manage to use a few of 'em before they spoil." My father picks up one and begins to eat it. He says : " Well, thank you, if you 've got more than you can use, I don' know but we mil take a few of 'cm." Cousin Sylvanus says to me : " S'pose you run in and ask Delia for the basket." We fill the basket. My father says : " I '11 bring the basket back next time we come. I hope it won't be as long as it has this time." We go to the house. Cousin Sylvanus carries the basket. He sets it just inside the kitchen door. He says : " I '11 put it right here, where we '11 be sure and see it when we come out." Uncle Danel and Aunt Caty are awake after their naps. They look sleepy yet. We all sit down, and they begin to talk about York State again. Aunt Caty and my father have a great many brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts. They talk about every one of them. I look at pictures. Aunt Caty says : " Heard from Polly lately ? Last time she wrote she was n't feelin' so very spry. Rheumatism, she says. An' she says her cousin, Mis' John Bartlett, her 't was Mandy Smith, is havin' the same kind o' trouble exactly." No one says anything for a while. I keep on look ing at pictures. Then Aunt Caty says : " I heard from Melissy 311 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE last week. She 's all crippled up with rheumatism, too. Said she could hardly set up, and 't was all she could do to hold a pen." Aunt Caty waits a while. She says : " Well, her writin' was awful, and no gettin' 'round it ! " They talk about Jacob, and Peter, and Heman, and Lorinda, and a lot more. Most of them were named out of the Bible. They talk about when they were married, and how many children they have, and how much property. They talk about Uncle Abe, and the ones that died. There are so many of them all together that I wonder how they can remember them all. Cousin Juliette comes and says to me : " Don't you want to come into the other room with me a while? You must be tired hearing them talk." We go out into the hall. It is cooler there. It smells as if it had been shut up. It is as clean and quiet as can be. We hardly make a bit of noise when we walk. We go into a room at one side. It has big lace curtains, and a center table, and a what-not. It is cooler yet in there. Cousin Juliette shows me the album. She shows me Cousin Luriette, that died a long time ago when she was young. She has black hair smoothed down on both sides. Then there are Cousin Seymour and Cousin Myron. They live away somewhere. By and by Cousin Juliette shows me some books. A COUNTRY CHRONICLE She asks me if I read many story books. She says : " I '11 ask Uncle Hiram if he would n't like to have me let you take some books." We go back where they all are. Cousin Juliette says to my father : " Uncle Hiram, does he read story books? " My father says : " Oh, he devours everything we have in the house. It 's as much as the neighborhood can do to keep him supplied." Cousin Juliette says: "Well, now, wouldn't you like to take home Ida May with you, or Peculiar In stitution? We think they are real good stories. They 're about slavery days." I say : " Yes, I 'd like to take them." I don't like to ask. It makes my face warm again. Cousin Juliette says : " Well, you shall take them both. I '11 wrap them up right away, so they '11 be all ready." I look through the Chase's almanac hanging by the window casing, and then go back and begin to look at the pictures again. A good many of them are pictures of a river, and rocks, and boats. I keep thinking how I 'd like to go fishing in that river. Uncle Danel and Aunt Caty have a way of forget ting what the others were saying. Sometimes they forget what they were saying themselves. They sit still quite a while, and look up all of a sudden and say: "What was that we was just sayin'? I got to thinkin' about somethin' else, and lost track." 313 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I look at all the pictures three or four times. I get up and go out of the south door. I go over to the pear tree, and stand and look up at the pears. They are late winter pears. They say that they are n't good to eat until they have been lying in the house and getting mellow a long time. But I wish I had some of them to try now. 314 LV The Hales and Alvarus Come, and Alvarus Tells About the Dogs I HEAR a noise out by the road. Someone is saying : " Whoa ! Whoa ! " A carriage is just stopping near the gate. Some people get out. I know it must be Mr. Hale and Cousin Mclinda. Mr. Hale's name is Hiram, just like my father's. They have two little girls, a good deal smaller than I am. Mr. Hale has a mill, and a pond. Cousin Sylvanus goes down the path to meet them. I go into the house. Pretty soon they all come. Cousin Melinda is quiet and nice, like all of the rest of them. Mr. Hale has whiskers and long hair. They are reddish, and a little grey. Mr. Hale does n't talk right along. He keeps looking down, or else he looks away. My father said once that he acted as if he was excusing himself for something. When he said it, my mother said: " Well, I guess he ain't ! What has he got to excuse himself for? " The little girls are Winnie and Floy. Winnie has 315 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE black hair. Floy's is n't so black. They sit on the carpet and look at pictures. They look so clean and quiet that I don't see how they can play. Whenever I get anywhere near them, I smell clean clothes. Cousin Juliette gets Winnie and Floy a little bell to ring. It has a little crack in the side of it. Their father brought it from the Centennial at Philadelphia three or four years ago. Mr. Hale says : " I never see so much water as there is this year. The pond 's full all the time. But there 's little or no grindin', of course. It 's early in the season." I wish I could go fishing in Mr. Hale's pond. I know there would be scale fish there. Someone's head goes by the north window. It had an old straw hat on. It was torn on one side, and stained along the band. Cousin Delia says : " I should n't wonder if it was Alvarus." Cousin Sylvanus says : " I '11 warrant you that 's just who it is! " We hear steps coming across the kitchen floor. Cousin Sarah gets up and opens the door. Cousin Alvarus comes in. Cousin Sarah looks up at him, and smiles. She says : " How do you do to-day, Alvarus ? " Cousin Alvarus has grey hair and grey whiskers, except on his upper lip. He has a vest on, but no coat. 316 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father gets up and starts to meet him. Cousin Alvarus says: "How d' do, everybody? How d' do, Uncle Hiram? " He shakes hands with my father. He says: " Saw you drive by this forenoon, and thought I 'd come down a minute, for fear you would n't find time to come up." My father says: "I thought maybe you'd drop in before we got ready to go. If you had n't, I cal culated to stop a minute or two as we drove by. How 's Hannah and the rest of the family? " Cousin Alvarus says : " Oh, they 're so-so just middlin'. How's all your folks?" He asks about my brother and Edie. My father tells him what he told the others. Cousin Alvarus sits down beside Aunt Caty. He says : " Pretty well to-day, are you, mother? " Aunt Cat}' says : " Oh, there 's never nothing the matter o' me! " No one says anything for a while. Cousin Alva rus sits and looks at the carpet, as if he were n't thinking of any of us. Cousin Sylvanus says : " What 'd you and the boys finally make out about the dogs? Did you g-get track of them? " He jerks his words out. Cousin Alvarus looks at my father. He says: " Dogs got into my sheep, you know. Killed one, and tore up five more pretty badly." He says to Cousin Sylvanus : " Yes, we did. We 317 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE traced 'em up at last, and I don't think we '11 have any more trouble from that quarter! " Cousin Sylvanus says : " Whose were they the Schmitzes'? F-first thing that came into my head when I heard of it was them." Cousin Alvarus says: " No, 't wa'n't the Schmitz dogs. No, they belonged to what's his name? to that good-for-nothing fellow over by the town line, three or four miles away. You know who I mean Flanagan, that 's the name. One of the most shif- less fellows you ever saw ! Runs through every cent he has, always behind with his work, and just lives from hand to mouth. But of course he ain't too poor to keep a lot of useless dogs. As worthless a scamp as you ever saw ! " Cousin Sylvanus says : " Yes, I know him. You 're right ! That-that 's exactly what he is ! " Mr. Hale says : " Did you have any difficulty proving it on him? " Cousin Alvarus says : " Oh, it was as plain a case as could be ! We got out after 'em first thing, 'fore the dew was off. We could see where they left the pasture and went across the second crop clover, and we kept following and asking everybody we met, until we got to this place. We went right into the yard and called him out o' doors." Cousin Alvarus begins to get a little bit excited remembering all about it. He says: "I says to him, says I: 'Flanagan, 318 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE will you let me take a look at your dogs this morn- ing?' " Well, the fellow began to bristle up. * What do you want to see my dogs for ? ' says he. ' Why,' says I, ' I had some sheep killed and mangled last night,' says I, ' and I 'm tryin' to locate the dogs that did it.' " ' Well,' says he, ' 't wa'n't my dogs done it.' " Says I, ' I don't say it was. All I want is to see 'em. Then maybe we can tell whether 't was them or not.' " Well, you know, at first the fellow was inclined to refuse. But finally he come 'round. He sent his boy to call the dogs around, and, by jolly! there it was. Two of 'em were all bloody about the chaps and had pieces o' wool stickin' to 'em. " I knew I had him. ' Now,' says I, ' 1 've tracked your dogs here, and here they are. Now you 've got to let me shoot 'em, or I '11 sue you for damages. I 've got enough witnesses that saw 'em come.' " Well, you know, he held out quite a while, but he saw it was no use makin' a fuss. Finally he says: ' Well,' says he, ' all right, kill 'em if you want to,' and the boys put a bullet through 'em." Cousin Delia says : " Well, 't was only the fail- thing. Of course they 'd have come back before long and killed some more." Cousin Sylvanus says : " Of course they would. There ain't a doubt of it ! " 319 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Cousin Alvarus says : " I s'pose I might have sued him for damages, too. But the fellow has n't got a thing. 'T would n't be any use." Cousin Sylvanus says : " Not a bit of it ! Of course not ! " They all talk quite a long time. The clock strikes a half hour. I look. It is half past three. My father gets up. He says : " Well, Caty, I guess we '11 have to be gettin' ready to go." Aunt Caty says : " Pshaw, Hiram, stay to sup per, won't ye? You know you don't come very often. You '11 get home by seven." My father says : " No, we better be startin' along." He says to me: "You know your ma '11 be lookin' for us, and it '11 take the old marcs about two hours to travel it." Aunt Caty and Uncle Danel say : " You '11 be over again soon, won't ye? " We say good-bye, and go out through the kitchen and around down the path, and across to the horse- barn. The girls all come with us. Cousin Alvarus stays in the house with Uncle Danel and Aunt Caty and the Hales. Cousin Sylvanus carries our basket of apples. 320 LVI My Father and I Start Home, and Delia Feeds the Chickens Again THEY all say good-bye to my father and me. He says to the old mares : " Well, le' 's be gettin' on home ! " He flicks them with the whip. They start off on a slow trot. Before we get so very far we look back. Cousin Delia is standing at the side of the road in front of the horse barn. She has her sunbonnet on, and a pail in her hand, and there are turkeys and chickens all around her. The others are going back to the house. My father says : " I guess the chickens and tur keys kind o' like her, the way they 're always around her. And I guess she likes them." We go past Cousin Alvarus's house and over the hill. Cousin Delia is there as long as we can see the place. On Cousin Alvarus's veranda there is a long pine box. It has a black oil-cloth on it. I think of Aunt Jane and her notions. I wonder whether she ever thinks Uncle Peter is in there. I feel as if I should n't like to open the box. The old mares trot better than they did in the 321 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE morning. My father says : " That 's because they 're headed for home." But he has to jerk on the lines a good deal, any way. He holds the whip in his right hand all the time. Every time he begins to say anything to me, the old mares stop trotting. My father makes his own whipstocks, out of hickory. He cuts the lashes off a piece of buckskin that he keeps in the woodshed. He makes ax-helves, too. He dresses them down with the drawshave, over in Uncle Anthony's shop. Then he uses his knife, and after that sandpapers the wood till it is nice and smooth. I take off my hat and coat. Pretty soon I take off my shoes and stockings. I say : " I don't think I 'm going to have headache this time." My father says : " That 's good ! I don't see why you should have it so much, anyway." Every time we go past a woods, my father looks at the big trees. He says he has hunted squirrels so much it has come to be a habit with him to be always looking for them that way. I have been hunting with my father a good many times, and I am getting so I look at the trees the same way he does. All of a sudden a big fox squirrel runs across the road in front of us. He goes through the rail fence. My father says : " Whoa, whoa ! " The old mares stop. They are always ready to 322 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE stop. My father leans forward and watches the squirrel till he goes up a big elm. He says : " By jolly! I wish I had the gun here now! He 'd make a first class stewpie." My mother always laughs about my father and hunting. Once she said : " Every time he sees a squirrel or a rabbit he gets so excited he does n't know what to do. I 've known him to get out of the cutter when we were going somewhere, to follow up a mink track and see what became of it." We drive on again. I say : " Did it use to be all big trees everywhere?" My father says : " Yes, everywhere except the little openings, as we called 'em. There were n't so many where the openings were." I say : " It must have been lots of work clear ing up." My father says: "Well, I just giiess it was lots of work. But we did n't have to clear up all of our farm. The railroad took some of the timber. But then, there was the stumps and the stones just the same." I say: "Were there more squirrels then? " My father says : " Yes, and there used to be grey squirrels and black squirrels. When Abe and I kept bachelor's hall where Aunt Nancy lives now, there was woods all around, and they were just full of game. I could take a squirrel right through the head every time, on a tall tree." 323 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father gets to talking about his folks in York State. I ask a good many questions. He says his father had nine brothers and sisters. He says he had fifteen brothers and sisters himself, all told. They lived four miles from Batavia, and used to go to town to church. My father says : " We were awfully poor. I s'pose it was because there was such a lot of us. Father could n't dress us all, so only the biggest could go to church. And then, I don't s'pose they could all have got into the wagon at once." He says : " You know, I did n't have as many things as you. I went to school without any shoes up to the time there was snow on the ground. Once or twice I went right in the snow. And then I had to stay at home and work as soon as I was big enough to do anything. I only had a couple o' years o' schooling." I think about what my father says, but I don't say anything. After a while my father says : " But when I got bigger I worked in Haney's hardware store in town, and I sat up nights and read and wrote and figured. I had to educate myself, you see." I say : " How old were you when you came west?" My father says : " Oh, I was twenty-two or three. Aunt Caty and Uncle Dancl came a year or two be fore I did. I went to their house when I came. 324 Aunt Caty is quite a little older than I am. She was the oldest of us all. That 's how Sylvanus and the girls come to be so old." I say : " How did you come to have such old- fashioned names, like Heman, and Hiram, and so forth?" My father says : " Oh, they 're Bible names. Father was great on the Bible. But Uncle Dancl and Aunt Caty named their boys and girls out o' books." The old mares have been walking a long time. My father starts them up. I say : " Pa, you did n't go to war, did you ? " My father says : " No, I was over age. But my brother Jacob went anyway. He was over sixty. He was afraid the South would beat if he did n't go." My father laughs. He says : " He said when he used to march his army boots hurt his feet, so he 'd take 'em off and carry 'em on his musket. He always went barefoot. When he went courtin' he always carried his boots till he got there, and then he put 'em on and went in. You know he married Deborah Tinkham. Afterwards he mar ried Desire Tinkham. She was Deborah's sis ter." I say : " Were they any relation to the Tink- hams over north? " My father says : " No, not as I ever heard." 325 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE When we come to the big elm at the town line, we turn to the left instead of going straight ahead. It brings us out at the South Plank again near Bernard's. My father says : " It 's kind o' nice for a change, even if the goin' is n't quite as good. I kind o' like the way it goes down and up through the woods, and you never know what 's comin' next." When we go by Tip's we don't see anyone. I sup pose they are having supper. At Edie's house, her mother is sitting at the window. She does n't look at us. We go down the hill. I look down the lane. The cows are just coming up out of the woods. My father says : " There come the cows ! You won't have to go after 'em. You can just jump out and open the gate, and let 'em come along them selves." We drive in past the asparagus row and stop over the plank walk by the woodshed door. I get down. My mother comes to the door. My father reaches under the seat for the apples, and I get my hat and coat and shoes, and the books. My mother says : " You did n't go barefoot and without your coat over there, I hope? " I say : " No, I did n't take 'em off till we got started home. They made my feet so hot. Is sup per ready ? " My father drives out to the barn. I go in. I 326 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE open the book package, and begin to read Ida May. By the time my father comes in, I know it is going to be interesting. 327 LVII We Kill Some Roosters, and Go to Meet My Brother and Edit MY father says: "Well, better light the lantern. We '11 have to get the chickens out o' the way before train time." I get the lantern from the nail in the cellar way. I get a match out of the box on the wall by the door, and light the lantern. I touch the match on the kitchen stove. It burns clear blue at first, with just a little sputter. I am not careful, and some of it gets in my nose. It is so sharp I catch my breath, and it makes my eyes water. When the match gets to burning yellow, I lift up the lantern and stick the blaze through the little brass screen that holds the globe up, and try to light the wick. The match goes out. My father says : " Oh, you might as well take the globe out first as last. You can never be sure of it that way." We start for the henhouse. It is Thanksgiving to-morrow, and my brother and Edie are coming home to-night on the nine o'clock. 328 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE We always have a stewpie for Thanksgiving, un less we have oysters. We don't keep turkeys. My father says you never can tell where they are, and they are always bothering the neighbors. We are all glad my brother and Edie are coming home. On the way to the henhouse I think of the nine o'clock and the conductor. I begin to swing the lantern the way he does. There is enough snow on the ground to make everything white. My father takes the lantern, and goes in through the henhouse door. The door is low, and he has to stoop. The roosters begin to cackle, the way they do when they are surprised. Then it is quiet a minute. I know my father is looking the roosters over. Pretty soon I hear a rooster's wings flap, and the other roosters and hens cackle again. The rooster begins to squawk. He says : " Ker-rah-h-h ! ker- rah-h-h ! " Soon there are two of them squawking at the same time. I know my father has got another. My father comes out of the door. The two roosters are hanging head downward, squawking. They are white and fluffy. Their wings are spread out. They try to hold their heads up. We start up toward the wood pile. I open the barnyard gate for my father, and put the pin back in after we are through. The roosters stop squawk ing, and then begin again. 329 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE The ax is leaning against the big chunk that my father splits wood against. The top of the chunk is covered with snow. My father has me take one of the roosters. It begins to squawk again when I take hold of it. My father gives me the lantern. He says : " Hold it up, so I can see." The roosters stop squawking. They just look at the lantern. Their eyes are round and shiny. My father holds his rooster so its neck is on the big chunk. He raises the ax in his other hand, and brings it down hard. Then he holds the rooster out as far away from him as he can for a second or two. The rooster jerks, and its wings flap. The blood runs out in a thin stream. It makes holes in the snow. The ground shows through. My father throws the rooster down. It jumps and flaps quite a while. It makes big spots of mussy snow, with drops and splotches of red in it. He takes the other rooster. When the other rooster is through jumping and flapping, my father takes them both by the legs, and we start for the house. Their feathers are all snow, and some of the snow is stained red. Their wings are hanging out loose, and go up and down every step my father takes. My father says to my mother : " Is the water good and hot? " 330 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My mother says : " Yes, it 's been boiling quite a while." My father gets a big pail and puts the roosters in it. Their legs stick out over the edge. They are yellow. He pours the boiling water out of the big tea kettle until the pail is nearly full, and pushes the roosters' legs down until the water covers all the feathers. There is lots of steam, and it smells of wet feathers. My father lifts the roosters up, and lets them down again. He does it five or six times, and then pulls out a few feathers. They don't come easily, so he lifts and lets down four or five times more. He tries the feathers again. He says to me : " All right, tell your ma they 're ready." My mother comes. They pull all the feathers off the roosters. They hold them on the edge of the pail, and throw the feathers in the water. The pin feathers are harder to get out than the others. There are some white hairs left, especially on the neck. My father says to me : " Run into the other room and bring me an old Patriot." He goes to the stove with a rooster. He crumples the Patriot, and lifts the griddle off, and puts the Patriot in. It blazes up. He holds the rooster right in the blaze. He keeps turning it, until the hair all burns off. It makes a smell. My mother takes the table cloth off, and puts up 331 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE the loaf. They lay the roosters on the table, and begin to clean them. My father cuts the gizzard open, and turns it in side out. A lot of kernels of wheat and corn come cut. There are little stones among them. I say: "What do they eat the stones for?" My father says : " That 's what they grind their corn and wheat with. See? a lot of stones and shells and everything." My mother takes the roosters and starts to put them away. My father says to me : " Run and look at the clock, and see what time it 's getting to be." I go into the front room and look. It is half past eight. My mother says : " Well, let 's get our things on and go on down." She begins to get ready. She says: "Won't it be nice to have them back home again, after all this time?" She laughs. She says to my father : " I declare, I believe it '11 make us both feel younger. Don't you?" 332 LVIII My Brother and Edie Hare Thanksgiving Dinner with Us THEY came last night. We were all waiting on the platform when the nine o'clock came in. At first we were afraid they had n't come. The conductor got off and came along toward the office to register, and the brakemen got down and stood by the car steps, but nobody got off. My father began to worry right away. We started to walk along and look up through the win dows. Just as Edie's mother was beginning to say: " Oh, dear me, they have n't come after all," the brakeman farthest down toward the end stepped back a little, and my brother jumped down onto the platform. He set two valises down, and then turned around and helped Edie. We all ran up. Edie's mother kissed her, and my mother kissed my brother and then Edie, and Edie kissed me. My father shook hands with my brother. Edie's mother and my brother did n't go up to each other at first. It took quite a while before they got through. Then my father said : " Well, sha'n't we go on 333 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE home?" He picked up the valises and started off. My brother ran up after my father and took hold of the valises, too. He said : " Oh, I '11 carry them! Here, le' go of 'em, can't you?" He said it as if he liked my father. When we got to our house, Edie and her mother stopped at the gate a minute before we went in. Edie said : " I '11 be up to-morrow, mother, but maybe not till after dinner." We all went into the house. My mother lit the lamps, and they took their things off and put them on chairs. While they were doing it my father stirred the fire and put in another chunk. Then we all sat down. They left the valises in the mid dle of the floor. My father said to Edie : " I felt kind o' sorry for your mother, goin' off that way without hardly seein' you." In a minute he says to my mother: "Don't you s'pose we might have her down to dinner to-mor row? " My mother said : " Oh, I don't know. I really think she would n't enjoy it as much as if Edie went up in the afternoon and staid awhile, the way she said." Edie looked at my brother. She said : " I should n't wonder if it 'd be better the way it is." Then she laughed. She said : " You know, I don't think he wants to see ma very bad." 334 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE They talked quite a while about Cousin Dora's be fore we went to bed. Now we are having Thanksgiving dinner. There is a great big stewpie. The dish is all heaped up with dumplings and chicken, and there is nice, thick, yellow gravy. It comes away up to the top of the dish. I know just how it is going to taste. My father gives us each some chicken and dump ling and mashed potato. We pull the dumplings apart. They are nice and light, and they steam. Then we pass our plates and have more gravy put on. My mother says : " I declare ! I don't believe there 's a heavy one in the whole mess ! " The dumplings and gravy smell fine. They taste better than they smell. I eat mine all up. My father looks at my plate. Then he looks at me. He says: "Ready for more, are j-ou?" I pass my plate. My brother looks at me and grins. He says : " I see you ain't forgot how to eat yet, hare you? " They all look at me. My face begins to feel red. My brother is different. His moustache is longer, and his clothes look bigger. He has n't so very much to say. My mother says to Edie : " That 's quite a pretty dress you 've got on. Blue just suits your eyes and hair and complexion. Did you make it yourself? " Edie says : " Oh my, no ! I could n't do as well 335 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE as all that, yet." She says : " You know, I never made anything alone in my life till we got married. And even then I had help." Edie laughs. Then she laughs quite hard. She says: " You just ought to 'a' seen the first dresses I had! We bought some calico and cut 'em out to gether. That was the first thing we did. We got married almost the minute we got off the train, and went straight and bought the stuff for the dresses. 'Cause I had n't a thing ! " She laughs again. She says : " Dora almost had a fit after we got to her house and she saw 'em ! " My mother says : " Let 's see, how long was it after you got married that you went to Dora's ? " Edie says : " Why, it must have been about five weeks or so. You see we had to stop right where we were and save up a little money before we could go." My brother keeps on eating. He begins to smile a little when Edie tells about the dresses. He says : " Oh, they were n't so very bad, considering. They did n't set very nice, that 's all." Edie laughs again. She says : " I tell you, what we did n't know about housekeeping and dressmak ing 'd fill a great big book. One day he went to the store that was in the first place we were he went to the store and told the clerk he wanted some thing to make a waist out of. The clerk asked him what kind o' goods he wanted, and he said : * Oh, A COUNTRY CHRONICLE I don' know gingham, or basque, or something like that.' " My mother and father laugh a long time. My mother almost chokes. My brother gets red. He only smiles a little. I don't know what the joke is, but I laugh because the rest do. At last my brother snickers a little. He says : " Well, don't go and have a fit about it ! " My plate gets empty again. I want some more, but I don't like to ask. My mother is sure to say something. I wait quite a long while. I touch my mother on the arm, and say: " Can't I have a little more? " My mother says : " My goodness me ! Do you want to keep on eating till you can't see? " Edie says : " Oh, let him have a little more ! It 's Thanksgiving. It don't come but once a year." My father looks at me. He laughs. He says : " All right, pass your plate over here. I don't blame you for likin' it. It 's one o' the best stewpies your ma ever made." 337 LIX MY father says : " Well, ain't it gettin' on towards chore time?" He looks at the clock. He says : " Yes, it 's after five, sure 's you 're alive ! " He gets up and takes his old slouch hat off the secretary top. My mother says : " I don't suppose anybody '11 want supper, after all we had to eat this noon." My father says : " No, 'most any little thing '11 do to-night. Bread and milk '11 be all I want." My mother says: "All right! That'll be just the thing. We '11 have it after you come in with the milk." My brother gets up. He says : " Well, I guess I '11 get my overhauls on, then, and we '11 get the chores over with." My mother says : " Yes, you better. You know there may be folks come in to-night to see you." By the time the chores are done and they come in with the milking, Edie is back from her mother's. We all sit down at the table, and my mother brings 338 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE us bowls of milk. There is a plate of bread in the middle of the table, and some little pieces of white chicken meat, and some cheese. The milk is warm jet. We break up bread in it, and eat it with little bites of the cheese or chicken. My father says: " It just hits the spot, don't it? I don't see how I could have eat another regular meal." My father makes a good deal of noise when he eats his bread and milk. My mother says he eats too fast. She says to him : " You act for all the world as if you was in a hurry to get it out of the way." My father laughs. He says : " You see it 's so good I keep forgettin'." My mother takes a long time to eat. I always get through before her. She is always telling me it is n't good for people to eat fast. She says I take after my father. When she says that, my father laughs. He says : " Oh, he takes after you, too." He laughs again. He says : " Makes me think o' the man that said he took after both his folks. He said one of 'em eat fast, and the other of 'em eat long." We all laugh, but I wish my mother would n't say so much about how much I eat. After the bread and milk, we go and sit in the front room. By and by we hear somebody scuffing feet on the veranda. 339 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says to my brother : " S'pose you open the door. It 's your company, most likely." My brother goes and opens. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Phoebe are there. Aunt Phoebe has a shawl over her head. It is her blue and black check. They shake hands with my brother and Edic, and sit down in the chairs near the stair door. Aunt Phoebe says : " Seems real nice to have ye back." Uncle Anthony says: " Yes, it does that. I was sayin' to her yes'day, 'fore you come, says I : 'It '11 be kind o' nice to have 'em 'round agin, after bein' gone so long.' ' He says : " I s'pose you cal'late to stay right along, now you 're here." My brother says he hopes so. Edie says : " My goodness, yes ! There 's no place like home. We got pretty lonesome part o' the time, I can tell you or at least I did. I was alone in the house so much. Sometimes I got so I could n't stand it any longer, so I 'd go out and help in the field just for company." Uncle Anthony says : " Well, we think you been real plucky, to do what you done, and we wish ye a long life and lots o' happiness, and so does all the neighbors. They all say you got mighty good stuff in ye." Aunt Phoebe says : " Yes, indeed ! You 've lots 340 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE o' friends, and you '11 find 'cm real ready to help you when you need anything." Uncle Anthony sits with one hand on his knee, and his old clay pipe between his thumb and fingers. He is n't smoking, though. After a little while we be gin to smell the pipe, but it is really out. Uncle Anthony waves the pipe at my father. My father does n't like tobacco smoke. They joke about it sometimes. Uncle Anthony says : " Ain't nothin' in it, Hi. You don't need to be scairt. I finished my smoke jus' as I was comin' up the path." My father laughs. He says: "I shouldn't be s'prised if 't was just as well." He says: " O' course I would n't make a fuss about it with you, if you "teas to smoke. I always feel like puttin' up with such things when it 's folks I have an understandin' with." He stops a while. He says : " You know you and I have travelled 'long together for so many years we could n't fall out over anything." Uncle Anthony says : " O' course not ! But o' course I don't cal'late to smoke where 't ain't wel come." Aunt Phffibe says : " Well, it 's my opinion, Davi'son, an' it always has been, 't ye 'd be better off without." Uncle Anthony says : " Mebbe I would. Mebbe I would." 341 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " After all, as long 's anyone smokes out o' doors or on his own premises, I don' know as it 's any o' my business though I declare I don't see how the women folks can stand it in the house as well as they do. What 7 don't like is when they smoke in my house." My mother laughs. She says : " You ought to have seen him the time he spit out at the Governor for smoking in our house." Uncle Anthony says: " Did he? You don't say ! / never heard about it." Aunt Phoebe says : " I ain't neither. Tell us how it was." My mother says : " Have n't you ? Why, the Governor was running for office then, and he stopped here for dinner, and when he was through he leaned back in his chair and took out a cigar. He was just going to light it, and Hi snapped out at him : ' No, sir ! I '11 have you know my house is no bar room!'" Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Anthony laugh. Aunt Phoebe says : " Served him right ! " Uncle Anthony says : " I 'd like to seen the Gov'ner 'bout that time. What 'd he say? Was he mad?" My mother says : " I don't know, I 'm sure. I guess he did n't like it very much. But he did n't show it. You see, he wanted Hi's support, so he did n't say anything." 342 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My father says : " I don't s'pose I really ought to said it. But I just happened to be feelin' that way." 343 LX Syd and Steve and the Girls Call on My Brother and Edie THERE is more scuffing on the veranda. Some one knocks. My brother opens the door wide. As soon as he sees who it is, he calls out : " Yo-o-ou don't sa-a-ay ! Come on in ! Come on in ! " Edie jumps up and runs to the door. Syd and Steve and Jennie and Frankie come in all at the same time. They begin to laugh and talk and shake hands. My mother says to me : " Bug, I guess you '11 have to run out to the kitchen and bring some more chairs" She says to all of them: " I declare, if I 'd known so many of you were coming, I 'd have had a fire in the parlor stove." She stops a second or two. She says : " Maybe I 'd better make one anyway." Jennie says : " Oh my, no ! Don't think of it ! We are only going to stay a few minutes. We thought we 'd just step in and see how the new mar ried folks were getting along." Everybody looks at my brother and Edie. My brother laughs a little, and Edie blushes. 344 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE My brother says : " Well, you see we 're alive yet. 'T ain't as bad as you thought it was, is it?" Steve says : " Oh, you need n't think we ever wor ried about you! We knew you was safe and sound somewheres" Syd says : " Yes, I sho-o-o-uld say so ! We did n't lose no sleep over you" Steve begins to laugh. He says to Edie: "No, you bet specially after your mother went and had the river dragged for you ! " He laughs hard, and makes a great noise through his nose, the way he always does. He says : " Le' 's see, what was it she had 'em drag it with? Wasn't it a grape vine, Syd?" 345 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE They all laugh a long time. Steve keeps saying funny things about the grape vine. Frankie says : " Well, I don't care, you could n't blame her, poor woman ! How was she going to know you hadn't gone and drowned yourselves? I tell you, you gave us an awful surprise, skipping out that way and never saying a word to any of us ! " They don't say anything for a while. Uncle Anthony looks over at my father. He says : " H-hem-m-m ! " He winks at my father, but the other don't see him. He waits until we are all still. He says : " Well, I s'pose, now they 've been showed how easy it is and how fine it comes out, they '11 be a lot o' weddin's comin' off, first thing we know." My father winks back at Uncle Anthony. He says : " Yes, I 'spect there will ! " Syd and Steve and the girls don't say anything. Syd and Steve look at each other a minute, and then they look away. The girls sit and rock. They look as if my father and Uncle Anthony had n't said anything. Uncle Anthony says : " Beats all how quiet it 's got ! What 's the reason the young folks 's stopped talkin' so, all of a sudden? " My father says : " I wonder ! They ain't sayin' a word." Syd looks at Steve and begins to laugh. Steve laughs, and makes a great noise. 346 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Jennie keeps on rocking. She smiles and says: "What you laughing at, I'd like to know?" Frankie says: "Yes, what's the joke? Tell us, so we can laugh too. What is it, anyway ? " Steve says : " Oh, nothin'." Syd says: "We was just thinkin' what fine weather it is to-night." Uncle Anthony says : " Yes, 't is fine, ain't it ? " Syd and Steve begin to laugh again. Jennie says : " Well, you can laugh all you want to, if you like it so well ! We don't care." Aunt Pho?be says : " Don't pay any 'tention to 'em, girls ! Maybe 't ain't half so funny as what they think it is." Syd stops laughing. He sits up straight. He says : " Steve, tell 'em about the rabbit we tracked up to-day. How many miles do you suppose we followed that fellow, anyway ? " My father says: "Did you get him?" He is interested right away. Steve says : " Yes, we got him all right, but he was the only one. We really ought to gone out yesterday morning, though, when the snow was fresh. You see, by this morning they had it tracked up so bad that you could n't tell when they 'd been along. All we could manage was just the one." My father says : " Where was it you got him ? " Steve says: "Oh, we finally got him in the back lot. We had a great time following him up. We 347 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE scared him out of a patch o' hazel brush first, and he up and put out for the marsh. We managed to track him down to where the river turned him, and then the track went over the railroad and kept com ing back toward the back lot again. It kept on and on, till, by George! it went into a pile o' rails not more 'n twenty feet from where we started ! I got down on my hands and knees, and there he was, be tween the rails at the other end. 'Well, old feller,' I says to him, ' we ain't goin' to chase you another mile down there and back, so here goes ! ' " My father says : " How did you get him ? " He can't wait for Steve to tell it his own way. My mother begins to laugh at him. Syd says : " Oh, Steve did n't take any chances. He just let him have a charge o' shot, and that was the end of him." My father says: "Didn't it tear him all up? It must have been awful close range." Steve says : " No, he was sitt'n' so I could get a good sight at his head. He was n't so very bad." It takes quite a while to tell about the rabbit. The girls begin to look tired. 348 A COUNTRY CHRONICLE Steve notices. He gets up. He says : " I s'pose we really ought to be goin' hey, girls?" My brother and Edie say : " Oh, don't be in a hurry ! You 've only staid a little while." Jennie says : " Well, you see we 're on our way to choir practice. I guess we really must go." Frankie says : " Yes, we really must. But we '11 be up to see you again sometime, after you 're settled." She says : " We won't know quite how to behave to you, for a while, now you 're married and going around just like all the grown folks." The girls and Syd and Steve go out. Aunt Phoebe gets up. She says : " Well, Davi'son, ain't it 'bout time we was gittin' 'long home too?" She throws the blue and black check shawl over her head. Uncle Anthony gets up. Aunt Phoebe says : " You know, you got to cut a few sticks o' wood for breakfast yet." Uncle Anthony begins to laugh. He says : " There she goes agin ! Always wantin' wood. 'Y gosh all fishuks, I don't see what she does with it all ! " He starts and opens the door. He says : " Well, good evenin' to ye all ! " He puts his pipe in his mouth, and feels in his vest pocket for a match. He says : " Hi, I don't s'pose ye '11 mind, will ye, if I light my pipe on yer front steps?" My father laughs. 349 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY ft A 001 248 020 SOLT .^ANCH, UNIVE, FORNIA, LLB.RARY, ANGELES,