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“We shorely are glad to hev a teacher at larst,” re-asserted the bustling lady of the house, as she passed a cup of creamy tea to her new boarder. “Did you hear what happened to our larst teacher, Miss Gordon?” Here the good lady heaved a deep sigh. “The pore man hed a tryin’ time with some big boys named Bullock who started in to school larst fall arter workin’ all summer. The teacher used to spend his evenin’s to Bullock’s bunkhouse, playin’ black-jack with ole man Bullock.”,

May Nell watched the flying figure turn out of sight around the mountain; and for a minute the forest grew absolutely still, and the child began to tremble. But a meadow lark, almost from under her feet it seemed, sent forth a rippling song; across the river her mate replied. A flock of white ducks came waddling and quacking from the opposite field, plunged into the water, and swam about noisily, tipping their little tails up and their big bills down as they reached for submerged morsels. Bouncer made a swift circuit of the Lodge, sniffing now and then questioningly; but came soon and sat down in front of May Nell; put his paw on her knee and gave her another short bark.,

When Betty returned from school in the afternoon, she beheld snowy billowing apparel on the clothes-line. Mrs. Wopp, being very thrifty in the matter of using up flour and sugar sacks for underwear, had a motley collection of garments suspended by wooden pegs. A night-shirt of Mr. Wopp’s bore the inscription “Three Roses” dimly outlined in pink, while on the southern portion of a pair of more intimate garments could be discerned, fading into palest blue. “Great Western Mills.” The wind was causing a riotous time among the cheerful array of reconstructed sacks, and as Betty ran down the path singing “Twenty froggies went to school,” a sugar sack sleeve of Moses’ shirt embraced a flour sack bosom of his father’s undergarment; and “Pure Cane Sugar“ saluted “Ogiveme’s Mills.” Betty cheerfully performed her task of bringing in the clothes saturated with wind and sunshine. She thought the sweetest smell in the world next to morning-glories and nasturtiums was the smell of clean clothes fresh from the line.,

Uplifted by limburger, Mr. Wopp grew emboldened, “Jist a mouthful of somethink don’t hurt nobody, an’ I’ll be asleep afore you kin say Jack Robinson, an’ ef I talk as loud as you snore, we’re even I reckon.”

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But he was not to be hindered. “It’s only a scratch, mother; you can fuss it up all you want to later; but you mustn’t stop me now!” He pulled away from her and bounded up the path.,

This conversation took place in Billy’s shop, a room adjoining the wood-house and given over to his use. Nothing short of the world in the second verse of Genesis was equal to the chaos of that place. Every conceivable scrap and job lot of “truck” was there in a jumbled heap; and Billy was never happier than when mussing it over in search of “material”; in greasy overalls and crownless hat, whistling merrily, bringing forth to substance and form the inventions of his busy brain.,

“You must ’scuse me not goin’ to meet you, Miss Gordon,” apologized Mr. Wopp, as he held suspended a knife full of mashed potato, destined for his mouth. “But I hev a sick cow I couldn’t git away from, so I ast Howard here to drive in fer you.”,

Not unwillingly the boy relinquished his task. Weeding after all is thankless work. The weeds will persist in growing in spite of every discouragement.