diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:19 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:19 -0700 |
| commit | f4b27cd11193737f1239324d81f3c18c693fdd81 (patch) | |
| tree | 196f43fab84b35399229e566048146673f7d542c /6330-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '6330-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 6330-h/6330-h.htm | 10854 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6330-h/illus-1.png | bin | 0 -> 149990 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6330-h/illus-2.png | bin | 0 -> 173431 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 6330-h/illus-3.png | bin | 0 -> 138798 bytes |
4 files changed, 10854 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/6330-h/6330-h.htm b/6330-h/6330-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..219e9c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/6330-h/6330-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10854 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 3.2 Final//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> +<TITLE>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Amanda by Anna Balmer Meyers</TITLE> +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + +<H1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Amanda by Anna Balmer Meyers</H1> + +<PRE> +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Amanada + +Author: Anna Balmer Meyers + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6330] +[This file was first posted on January 22, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, AMANDA *** +</PRE> + +<p align="center"><a href="illus-1.png"><img src="illus-1.png" alt="She still felt the wonder of being rescued from the fire" border="0" /></a><br /> +She still felt the wonder of being rescued from the fire</p> + +<h1 align="center">AMANDA</h1> + +<h2 align="center">A DAUGHTER OF THE MENNONITES</h2> + +<p align="center">BY</p> + +<h3 align="center">ANNA BALMER MYERS</h3> + +<h4 align="center">ILLUSTRATED BY<br> +HELEN MASON GROSS</h4> + +<p align="center"><i>To My Sister</i></p> + +<h1 align="center">CONTENTS</h1> + +<ol> +<li><a href="#ch1">“While the Heart Beats Young”</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch2">The Snitzing Party</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch3">Boiling Apple Butter</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch4">A visit to Martin’s Mother</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch5">At Aunt Rebecca’s House</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch6">School Days</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch7">Amanda Reist, Teacher</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch8">The Spelling Bee</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch9">At the Market</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch10">Pink Moccasins</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch11">The Boarder</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch12">Unhappy Days</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch13">The Trouble Maker</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch14">The county Superintendent’s Visit</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch15">“Martin’s Girl”</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch16">Aunt Rebecca’s Will</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch17">Martin’s Dark Hour</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch18">The Comforter</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch19">Vindication</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch20">Dinner at Landis’s</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch21">Berrying</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch22">On the Mountain Top</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch23">Tests</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch24">“You Saved the Wrong One”</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch25">The heart of Millie</a></li> +<li><a href="#ch26">“One Heart Made o’Two”</a></li> +</ol> + +<h1 align="center">ILLUSTRATIONS</h1> + +<p><a href="illus-1.png">She Still Felt the Wonder of Being Rescued From the Fire</a></p> +<p><a href="illus-2.png">The Rhubarb Leaf Parasol</a></p> +<p><a href="illus-3.png">“What Did Lyman Tell You? I Must Know”</a></p> + +<a name="ch1"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER I</h1> + +<h2 align="center">“While the Heart Beats Young”</h2> + +<p align="left">The scorching heat of a midsummer +day beat mercilessly upon the earth. Travelers on +the dusty roads, toilers in the fields, and others +exposed to the rays of the sun, thought yearningly +of cooling winds and running streams. They would have +looked with envy upon the scene being enacted in one +of the small streams of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. +There a little red-haired girl, barefooted, her short +gingham skirt tucked up unevenly here and there, was +wading in the cool, shallow waters of a creek that +was tree-bordered and willow-arched. Her clear, rippling +laughter of sheer joy broke through the Sabbatical +calm of that quiet spot and echoed up and down the +meadow as she splashed about in the brook.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” she said aloud, +“this here’s the best fun! Abody wouldn’t +hardly know it’s so powerful hot out to-day. +All these trees round the crick makes it cool. I like +wadin’ and pickin’ up the pebbles, some +of ’em washed round and smooth like little white +soup beans--ach, I got to watch me,” she exclaimed, +laughing, as she made a quick movement to retain her +equilibrium. “The big stones are slippery from +bein’ in the water. Next I know I’ll sit +right down in the crick. Then wouldn’t Phil +be ready to laugh at me! It wonders me now where he +is. I wish he’d come once and we’d have +some fun.”</p> + +<p align="left">As if in answer to her wish a boyish +whistle rang out, followed by a long-drawn “Oo-oh, +Manda, where are you?”</p> + +<p>“Here. Wadin’ in the crick,” she +called. “Come on in.”</p> + +<p align="left">She splashed gleefully about as her +brother came into sight and walked with mock dignity +through the meadow to the stream. He held his red-crowned +head high and sang teasingly, “Manda, Manda, +red-headed Manda; tee-legged, toe-legged, bow-legged +Manda!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Philip Reist,” she shouted +crossly, “I am not! My legs are straighter’n +yours! You dare, you just dare once, to come in the +crick and say that and see what you get!”</p> + +<p align="left">Although two years her junior he accepted +the challenge and repeated the doggerel as he planted +his bare feet in the water. She splashed him and he +retaliated, but the boy, though smaller, was agile, +and in an unguarded moment he caught the girl by the +wrists and pushed her so she sat squarely in the shallow +waters of the brook.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hey, smarty,” he exulted +impishly as he held her there, “you will get +fresh with me, you will, huh?”</p> + +<p>“Phil, let me up, leave me go, I’m all +wet.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, how did that happen, I +wonder. My goodness, what will Mamma say?” he +teased.</p> + +<p align="left">“Phil,” the girl half +coaxed, but he read a desire for revenge in her face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Jiminy Christmas, don’t +cry.” He puckered up his lips in imitation of +a whimpering girl. “Got enough?”</p> + +<p>“Phil,” the word rang crossly, “you +let me be now.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, cry baby.” +He loosened his hold on her wrists. “But because +you’re such a fraid cat I’ll not give you +what I brought for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What is it?” The girl +scrambled to her feet, curiosity helping her to forget +momentarily the boy’s tricks. “What did +you bring me?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Something that’s little +and almost round and blue and I got it in a tree. +Now if you’re not a blockhead mebbe you can guess +what it is.” He moved his hand about in his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“Phil, let me see.” The words were plain +coaxing then.</p> + +<p>“Here.” And he drew from his pocket a +robin’s egg.</p> + +<p align="left">“Philip Reist! Where did you +get that?” The girl’s voice was stern and +loud.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I found the dandiest nest +out on one of the cherry trees and I know you like +dinky birds and thought I’d get you an egg. There’s +three more in the nest; I guess that’s enough +for any robin. Anyhow, they had young ones in that +nest early in the summer.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You bad boy! How dare you rob +a bird’s nest? God will punish you for that!” +Her eyes blazed with wrath at the thoughtless deed +of the lad.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” he answered boldly, +“what’s the use fussin’ ’bout +a dinky bird’s egg? You make me sick, Manda. +Cry about it now! Oh, the poor little birdie lost +its egg,” he whined in falsetto voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“You--you--I guess I won’t +wait for God to punish you, Philip Reist.” With +the words she grabbed and sat him in the water. “You +need something <i>right now</i> to make you remember +not to take eggs from nests. And here it is! When +you want to do it after this just think of the day +I sat you down in the crick. I’m goin’ +to tell Mom on you, too, that’s what I am.”</p> + +<p>“Yea, tattle-tale, girls are all tattle-tales!”</p> + +<p>He struggled to escape but the hold of his sister +was vise-like.</p> + +<p>“Will you leave nests alone?” she demanded.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ah, who wants to steal eggs? +I just brought you one ’cause I thought you’d +like it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I don’t. So let +the eggs where they belong,” she said as she +relaxed her clasp and he rose.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now look at us,” he began, +then the funny spectacle of wet clothes sent each +laughing.</p> + +<p>“Gee,” he said, “won’t we +get Sam Hill from Mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s Sam Hill?” +she asked. “And where do you learn such awful +slang? Abody can hardly understand you half the time. +Mom says you should stop it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yea, that reminds me, Manda, +what I come for. Mom said you’re to come in +and get your dresses tried on. And mebbe you’d +like to know that Aunt Rebecca’s here again. +She just come and is helpin’ to sew and if she +sees our clothes wet--oh, yea!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh yea,” echoed Amanda +with the innocent candor of a twelve-year-old. “Aunt +Rebecca--is she here again? Ach, if she wasn’t +so cranky I’d be glad still when she comes, +but you know how she acts all the time.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um-uh. Uncle Amos says still +she’s prickly like a chestnut burr. Jiminy crickets, +she’s worse’n any burr I ever seen!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” the girl said +thoughtfully, “but chestnut burrs are like velvet +inside. Mebbe she’d be nice inside if only abody +had the dare to find out.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, come on,” urged +the boy, impatient at the girl’s philosophy. +“Mom wants you to fit. Come on, get pins stuck +in you and then I’ll laugh. Gee, I’m glad +I’m not a girl! Fittin’ dresses on a day +like this--whew! "</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” she tossed her +red head proudly, “I’m glad I’m one!” +A sudden thought came to her--"Come in, Phil, while +I fit and then we’ll set in the kitchen and +count how often Aunt Rebecca says, My goodness.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um-uh,” he agreed readily, +“come on, Manda. That’ll be peachy.”</p> + +<p align="left">The children laughed in anticipation +of a good time as they ran through the hot sun of +the pasture lot, up the narrow path along the cornfield +fence and into the back yard of their home.</p> + +<p align="left">The Reist farm with its fine orchards +and great fields of grain was manifestly the home +of prosperous, industrious farmers. From its big gardens +were gathered choice vegetables to be sold in the famous +markets of Lancaster, five miles distant. The farmhouse, +a big square brick building of old-fashioned design, +was located upon a slight elevation and commanded +from its wide front porch a panoramic view of a large +section of the beautiful Garden Spot of America.</p> + +<p align="left">The household consisted of Mrs. Reist, +a widow, her two children, her brother Amos Rohrer, +who was responsible for the success of the farm, and +a hired girl, Millie Hess, who had served the household +so long and faithfully that she seemed an integral +part of the family.</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist was a sweet-faced, frail +little woman, a member of the Mennonite Church. She +wore the plain garb adopted by the women of that sect--the +tight-fitting waist covered by a pointed shoulder cape, +the full skirt and the white cap upon smoothly combed, +parted hair. Her red-haired children were so like +their father had been, that at times her heart contracted +at sight of them. His had been a strong, buoyant spirit +and when her hands, like Moses’ of old, had required +steadying, he had never failed her. At first his death +left her helpless and discouraged as she faced the +task of rearing without his help the two young children, +children about whom they had dreamed great dreams and +for whom they had planned wonderful things. But gradually +the widowed mother developed new courage, and though +frail in body grew brave in spirit and faced cheerfully +the rearing of Amanda and Philip.</p> + +<p align="left">The children had inherited the father’s +strength, his happy cheerfulness, his quick-to-anger +and quicker-to-repent propensity, but the mother’s +gentleness also dwelt in them. Laughing, merry, they +sang their way through the days, protesting vehemently +when things went contrary to their desires, but laughing +the next moment in the irresponsible manner of youth +the world over. That August day the promise of fun +at Aunt Rebecca’s expense quite compensated for +the unpleasantness of her visit.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca Miller was an elder sister +to Mrs. Reist, so said the inscription in the big +family Bible. But it was difficult to understand how +the two women could have been mothered by one person.</p> + +<p align="left">Millie, the hired girl, expressed +her opinion freely to Amanda one day after a particularly +trying time with the old woman. “How that Rebecca +Miller can be your mom’s sister now beats me. +She’s more like a wasp than anything I ever +seen without wings. It’s sting, sting all the +time with her; nothin’ anybody does or says +is just right. She’s faultfindin’ every +time she comes. It wonders me sometimes if she’ll +like heaven when she gets up there, or if she’ll +see some things she’d change if she had her +way. And mostly all the plain people are so nice that +abody’s got to like ’em, but she’s +not like the others, I guess. Most every time she +comes she makes me mad. She’s too bossy. Why, +to-day when I was fryin’ doughnuts she bothered +me so that I just wished the fat would spritz her +good once and she’d go and leave me be.”</p> + +<p align="left">It will be seen that Millie felt free +to voice her opinions at all times in the Reist family. +She was a plain-faced, stout little woman of thirty-five, +a product of the Pennsylvania Dutch country. Orphaned +at an early age she had been buffeted about sorely +until the happy day she entered the Reist household. +Their kindness to her won her heart and she repaid +them by a staunch devotion. The Reist joys, sorrows, +perplexities and anxieties were shared by her and she +naturally came in for a portion of Aunt Rebecca’s +faultfinding.</p> + +<p align="left">Cross-grained and trying, Rebecca +Miller was unlike the majority of the plain, unpretentious +people of that rural community. In all her years she +had failed to appreciate the futility of fuss, the +sin of useless worry, and had never learned the invaluable +lesson of minding her own business. “She means +well,” Mrs. Reist said in conciliatory tones +when Uncle Amos or the children resented the interference +of the dictatorial relative, but secretly she wondered +how Rebecca could be so--so--she never finished the +sentence.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, my goodness, here she +comes once!” Amanda heard her aunt’s rasping +voice as they entered the house.</p> + +<p align="left">Stifling an “Oh yea” the +girl walked into the sitting-room.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello, Aunt Rebecca,” +she said dutifully, then turned to her mother-- “You +want me?”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, your dress is +all wet in the back!” Aunt Rebecca said shrilly. +“What in the world did you do?”</p> + +<p align="left">Before she could reply Philip turned +about so his wet clothes were on view. “And +you too!” cried the visitor. “My goodness, +what was you two up to? Such wet blotches like you +got!” “We were wadin’ in the crick,” +Amanda said demurely, as her mother smoothed the tousled +red hair back from the flushed forehead.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness! Wadin’ in +the crick in dog days!” exploded Aunt Rebecca.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now for that she’ll turn +into a doggie, ain’t, Mom?” said the boy +roguishly.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca looked over her steel-rimmed +spectacles at the two children who were bubbling over +with laughter. “I think,” she said sternly, +“people don’t learn children no manners +no more.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” the mother said +soothingly, “you mustn’t mind them. They +get so full of laughin’ even when we don’t +see what’s to laugh at.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” put in Amanda, +“the Bible says it’s good to have a merry +heart and me and Phil’s got one. You like us +that way, don’t you, Mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” the mother agreed. +“Now you go put on dry things, then I want to +fit your dresses. And, Philip, are you wet through?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Naw. These thick pants don’t +get wet through if I rutch in water an hour. Jiminy +pats, Mom, girls are delicate, can’t stand a +little wettin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You just wait, Phil,” +Amanda called to him as she ran up-stairs, “you’re +gettin’ some good wettin’ yet. I ain’t +done with you.”</p> + +<p>“Cracky, who’s afraid?” he called.</p> + +<p>A little later the girl appeared in dry clothes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” she said, “I +forgot to wash my hands. I better go out to the pump +and clean ’em so I don’t get my new dresses +dirty right aways.”</p> + +<p align="left">She ran to the pump on the side porch +and jerked the handle up and down, while her brother +followed and watched her, defiance in his eyes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” she said suddenly, +“if you want it I’ll give it to you now.” +With that she caught him and soused his head in the +tin basin that stood in the trough. “One for +duckin’ me in the crick, and another for stealin’ +that bird’s egg, and a third to learn you some +sense.” Before he could get his breath she had +run into the house and stood before her mother ready +for the fitting. “I like this goods, Mom,” +she told the mother as the new dress was slipped over +her head. “I think the brown goes good with +my red hair, and the blue gingham is pretty, too. Only +don’t never buy me no pink nor red.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t. Not unless your hair turns brown.”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, but you spoil +her,” came the unsolicited opinion of Aunt Rebecca. +“When I was little I wore what my mom bought +me, and so did you. We would never thought of sayin’, +‘Don’t get me this or that.’”</p> + +<p align="left">“But with red hair it’s +different. And as long as blue and brown and colors +Amanda likes don’t cost more than those she don’t +want I can’t see why she shouldn’t have +what she wants.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, abody wonders what kind +o’ children plain people expect to raise nowadays +with such caterin’ to their vanity.”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist bit her lips and refrained +from answering. The expression of joy on the face +of Amanda as she looked down at her new dress took +away the sting of the older woman’s words. “I +want,” the mother said softly, “I want +my children to have a happy childhood. It belongs to +them. And I want them to remember me for a kind mom.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Mom, you <i>are</i> a +good mom.” Amanda leaned over the mother, who +was pinning the hem in the new dress, and pressed a +kiss on the top of the white-capped head. “When +I grow up I want to be like you. And when I’m +big and you’re old, won’t you be the nicest +granny!”</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca suddenly looked sad and +meek. Perhaps a partial appreciation of what she missed +by being childless came to her. What thrills she might +have known if happy children ran to her with shouts +of “Granny!” But she did not carry the +thread of thought far enough to analyze her own actions +and discover that, though childless, she could attract +the love of other people’s children if she chose. +The tender moment was fleet. She looked at Amanda +and Philip and saw in them only two children prone +to evil, requiring stern disciplining.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now don’t go far from +the house,” said Mrs. Reist later, “for +your other dress is soon ready to fit. As soon as +Aunt Rebecca gets the pleats basted in the skirt.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll soon get them in. +But it’s foolishness to go to all that bother +when gathers would do just as good and go faster.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda turned away and a moment later +she and Phil were seated on the long wooden settee +in the kitchen. The boy had silently agreed to a temporary +truce so that the game of counting might be played. +He would pay back his sister some other time. Gee, +it was easy to get her goat-- just a little thing +like a caterpillar dropped down her neck would make +her holler!</p> + +<p align="left">“Gee, Manda, I thought of a +bully thing!” the boy whispered. “If that +old crosspatch Rebecca says ‘My goodness’ +thirty times till four o’clock I’ll fetch +a tobacco worm and put it in her bonnet. If she don’t +say it that often you got to put one in. Huh? Manda, +ain’t that a peachy game to play?”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right,” agreed the +girl. “I’ll get paper and pencil to keep +count.” She slipped into the other room and in +a few minutes the two settled themselves on the settee, +their ears straining to hear every word spoken by +the women in the next room.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, this thread breaks +easy! They don’t make nothin’ no more +like they used to,” came through the open door.</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s one,” said +Phil; “make a stroke on the paper. Jiminy Christmas, +that’s easy! Bet you we get that paper full of +strokes!”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, that girl’s +shootin’ up! It wouldn’t wonder me if you +got to leave these dresses down till time for school. +Now if I was you I’d make them plenty big and +let her grow into ’em. Our mom always done that.”</p> + +<p align="left">And so the conversation went on until +there were twenty lines on the paper. The game was +growing exciting and, under the stress of it, the +counting on the old settee rose above the discreet +whisper it was originally meant to be. “Twenty-one!” +cried Amanda. Aunt Rebecca walked to the door.</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s you two up to?” +she asked. “Oh, you got the hymn-book. My goodness, +what for you writin’ on the hymn-book?” +She turned to her sister. “Ain’t you goin’ +to make ’em stop that? A hymn-book ain’t +to be wrote on!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Twenty-two,” cried Phil, +secure in the knowledge that his mother would not +object to their use of the book and safely confident +that the aunt could not dream what they were doing.</p> + +<p align="left">“What is twenty-two? Look once, +Amanda,” said the woman, taking the mention +of the number to refer to a hymn.</p> + +<p align="left">The girl opened the book. “Beulah +Land,” she read, a sudden compunction seizing +her.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yes, Beulah Land--I sang +that when I was a girl still. My goodness, abody gets +old quick.” She sighed and returned to her sewing.</p> + +<p align="left">“Twenty-three, countin’ +the last one,” prompted Phil. “Mark it +down. Gee, it’s a cinch.”</p> + +<p align="left">But Amanda looked sober. “Phil, +mebbe it ain’t right to make fun of her so and +count after how often she says the same thing. She +looked kinda teary when she said that about gettin’ +old quick.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, go on,” said Philip, +too young to appreciate the subtle shades of feelings +or looks. “You can’t back out of it now. +Gee, what’s bitin’ you? It ain’t +four o’clock yet, and it ain’t right, neither, +to go back on a promise. Anyhow, if we don’t +go on and count up to thirty you got to put the worm +in her bonnet--you said you would--girls are no good, +they get cold feet.”</p> + +<p align="left">Thus spurred, Amanda resumed the game +until the coveted thirty lines were marked on the +paper. Then, the goal reached, it was Phil’s +duty to find a tobacco worm.</p> + +<p align="left">Supper at the Reist farmhouse was +an ample meal. By that time the hardest portion of +the day’s labor was completed and the relaxation +from physical toil made the meal doubly enjoyable. +Millie saw to it that there was always appetizing +food set upon the big square table in the kitchen. +Two open doors and three screened windows looking out +upon green fields and orchards made the kitchen a +cool refuge that hot August day.</p> + +<p align="left">Uncle Amos, a fat, flushed little +man, upon whose shoulders rested the responsibilities +of that big farm, sat at the head of the table. His +tired figure sagged somewhat, but his tanned face shone +from a vigorous scrubbing. Millie sat beside Mrs. +Reist, for she was, as she expressed it, “Nobody’s +dog, to eat alone.” She expected to eat with +the folks where she hired. However, her presence at +the table did not prevent her from waiting on the +others. She made frequent trips to the other side +of the big kitchen to replenish any of the depleted +dishes.</p> + +<p>That evening Amanda and Philip were restless.</p> + +<p align="left">“What ails you two?” demanded +Millie. “Bet you’re up to some tricks +again, by the gigglin’ of you and the rutchin’ +around you’re doin’! I just bet you’re +up to something,” she grumbled, but her eyes +twinkled.</p> + +<p align="left">“Nothin’ ails us,” +declared Phil. “We just feel like laughin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” said Aunt Rebecca, +“this dumb laughin’ is all for nothin’. +Anyhow, you better not laugh too much, for you got +to cry as much as you laugh before you die.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I’ll have to cry +oceans!” Amanda admitted. “There’ll +be another Niagara Falls, right here in Lancaster +County, I’m thinkin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” said Millie, “that’s +just another of them old superstitions.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” Aunt Rebecca said +solemnly, “nobody believes them no more. But +it’s a lot of truth in ’em just the same. +I often took notice that as high as the spiders build +their webs in August so high will the snow be that +winter. Nowadays people don’t study the almanac +or look for signs. Young ones is by far too smart. +The farmers plant their seeds any time now, beans +and peas in the Posey Woman sign and then they wonder +why they get only flowers ’stead of peas and +beans. They take up red beets in the wrong sign and +wonder why the beets cook up stringy. The women make +sauerkraut in Gallas week and wonder why it’s +bitter. I could tell them what’s the matter! +There’s more to them old women’s signs +than most people know. I never yet heard a dog cry +at night that I didn’t hear of some one I know +dyin’ soon after. I wouldn’t open an umbrella +in the house for ten dollars--it’s bad luck--yes, +you laugh,” she said accusingly to Philip. “But +you got lots to learn yet. My goodness, when I think +of all I learned since I was as old as you! Of all +the new things in the world! I guess till you’re +as old as I am there’ll be lots more.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Sure Mike,” said the +boy, rather flippantly. “What’s all new +since you was little?” he asked his aunt.</p> + +<p align="left">“Telephone, them talkin’ +machines, sewin’ machines--anyhow, they were +mighty scarce then--trolleys----”</p> + +<p>“Automobiles?”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, yes! Them awful +things! They scare the life out abody. I don’t +go in none and I don’t want no automobile hearse +to haul me, neither. I’d be afraid it’d +run off.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Great horn spoon, Aunt Rebecca, +but that would be a gay ride,” the boy said, +while Amanda giggled and Uncle Amos winked to Millie, +who made a hurried trip to the stove for coffee.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” came the aunt’s +rebuke. “You talk too much of that slang stuff. +I guess I’ll take the next trolley home,” +she said, unconscious of the merriment she had caused. +“I’d like to help with the dishes, but +I want to get home before it gets so late for me. +Anyhow, Amanda is big enough to help. When I was big +as her I cooked and baked and worked like a woman. +Why, when I was just a little thing, Mom’d tell +me to go in the front room and pick the snipples off +the floor and I’d get down and do it. Nobody +does that now, neither. They run a sweeper over the +carpets and wear ’em out.”</p> + +<p>“But the floors are full of germs,” said +Amanda.</p> + +<p>“Cherms--what are them?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, dreadful things! I learned +about them at school. They are little, crawly bugs +with a lot of legs, and if you eat them or breathe +them in you’ll get scarlet fever or diphtheria.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, that’s too dumb!” +Aunt Rebecca was unimpressed. “I don’t +believe in no such things.” With that emphatic +remark she stalked to the sitting-room for her bonnet. +She met Phil coming out, his hands in his pockets. +He paused in the doorway as Amanda and her mother joined +the guest.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca lifted the black silk +bonnet carefully from the little table and Amanda +shifted nervously from one foot to the other. If only +Aunt Rebecca wouldn’t hold the bonnet so the +worm would fall to the floor! Then the woman gave +the stiff headgear a dexterous turn and the squirming +thing landed on her head.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness! My goodness!” +she cried as something soft brushed her cheek. Intently +inquisitive, she stooped and picked from the floor +a fat, green, wriggling tobacco worm.</p> + +<p align="left">“One of them cherms, I guess, +Amanda, ain’t?” she said as she looked +keenly at the child.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda blushed and was silent. Philip +was unable to hide his guilt. “Now, when did +tobacco worms learn to live in bonnets?” she +asked the boy as she eyed him reproachfully.</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist looked hurt. Her gentle +reproof, “Children, I’m ashamed of you!” +cut deeper with Amanda than the scolding of Aunt Rebecca--"You’re +a bad pair! Almost you spoiled me my good bonnet. If +I’d squeezed that worm on my cap it would have +ruined it! My goodness, you both need a good spankin’, +that’s what. Too bad you ain’t got a pop +to learn you!”</p> + +<p align="left">“It was only for fun, Aunt Rebecca,” +said Amanda, truly ashamed. But Phil put his hand +over his mouth to hide a grin.</p> + +<p align="left">“Fun--what for fun is that--to +be so disrespectful to an old aunt? And you, Philip, +ain’t one bit ashamed. Your mom just ought to +make you hunt all the worms in the whole tobacco patch. +My goodness, look at that clock! Next with this dumb +foolin’ I’ll miss that trolley yet. I +must hurry myself now.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m sorry, Aunt Rebecca,” +Amanda said softly, eager to make peace with the woman, +whom she knew to be kind, though a bit severe.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I don’t hold no +spite. But I think it’s high time you learn to +behave. Such a big girl like you ought to help her +brother be good, not learn him tricks. Boys go to +the bad soon enough. I’m goin’ now,” +she addressed Mrs. Reist, “and you let me know +when you boil apple butter and I’ll come and +help stir.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, Rebecca. I hope +the children will behave and not cut up like to-day. +You are always so ready to help us--I can’t understand +why they did such a thing. I’m ashamed.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, it’s all right, +long as my bonnet ain’t spoiled. If that had +happened then there’d be a different kind o’ +bird pipin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">After she left Philip proceeded to +do a Comanche Indian dance--in which Amanda joined +by being pulled around the room by her dress skirt--in +undisguised hilarity over the departure of their grim +relative. Boys have little understanding of the older +person who suppresses their animal energy and skylarking +happiness.</p> + +<p align="left">“I ain’t had so much fun +since Adam was a boy,” Philip admitted with +pretended seriousness, while the family smiled at his +drollness.</p> + +<a name="ch2"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER II</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Snitzing Party</h2> + +<p align="left">Apple-butter boiling on the Reist +farm occurred frequently during August and September. +The choice fruit of the orchard was sold at Lancaster +market, but bushels of smaller, imperfect apples lay +scattered about the ground, and these were salvaged +for the fragrant and luscious apple butter. To Phil +and Amanda fell the task of gathering the fruit from +the grass, washing them in big wooden tubs near the +pump and placing them in bags. Then Uncle Amos hauled +the apples to the cider press, where they came forth +like liquid amber that dripped into fat brown barrels.</p> + +<p align="left">Many pecks of pared fruit were required +for the apple-butter boiling. These were pared--the +Pennsylvania Dutch say snitzed--the night before the +day of boiling.</p> + +<p align="left">“Mom,” Amanda told her +mother as they ate supper one night when many apples +were to be pared for the next day’s use, “Lyman +Mertzheimer seen us pick apples to-day and he said +he’s comin’ over to-night to the snitzin’ +party--d’you care?”</p> + +<p>“No. Let him come.”</p> + +<p align="left">“So,” teased Uncle Amos. +“Guess in a few years, Manda, you’ll be +havin’ beaus. This Lyman Mertzheimer, now,--his +pop’s the richest farmer round here and Lyman’s +the only child. He’d be a good catch, mebbe.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” Amanda said in +her quick way, “I ain’t thinkin’ +of such things. Anyhow, I don’t like Lyman so +good. He’s all the time braggin’ about +his pop’s money and how much his mom pays for +things, and at school he don’t play fair at +recess. Sometimes, too, he cheats in school when we +have a spellin’ match Friday afternoons. Then +he traps head and thinks he’s smart.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Amos nodded his head. “Chip o’ the +old block.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, look here,” chided +Millie, “ain’t you ashamed, Amos, to put +such notions in a little girl’s head, about +beaus and such things?”</p> + +<p align="left">The man chuckled. “What’s +born in heads don’t need to be put in.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda wondered what he meant, but +her mother and Millie laughed.</p> + +<p align="left">“Women’s women,” +he added knowingly. “Some wakes up sooner than +others, that’s all! Millie, when you goin’ +to get you a man? You’re gettin’ along +now--just about my age, so I know--abody that cooks +like you do-- "</p> + +<p align="left">“Amos, you just keep quiet! +I ain’t lookin’ for a man. I got a home, +and if I want something to growl at me I’ll go +pull the dog’s tail.”</p> + +<p align="left">That evening the kitchen of the Reist +farmhouse was a busy place. Baskets of apples stood +on the floor. On the table were huge earthen dishes +ready for the pared fruit. Equipped with a paring knife +and a tin pie-plate for parings every member of the +household drew near the table and began snitzing. +There was much merry conversation, some in quaint +Pennsylvania Dutch, then again in English tinged with +the distinctive accent. There was also much laughter +as Uncle Amos vied with Millie for the honor of making +the thinnest parings.</p> + +<p align="left">“Here comes Lyman. Make place +for him,” cried Amanda as a boy of fifteen came +to the kitchen door.</p> + +<p align="left">“You can’t come in here +unless you work,” challenged Uncle Amos.</p> + +<p align="left">“I can do that,” said +the boy, though he seemed none too eager to take the +knife and plate Mrs. Reist offered him.</p> + +<p>“You dare sit beside me,” Amanda offered.</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman smiled his appreciation of the +honor, but the girl’s eyes twinkled as she added, +“so I can watch that you make thin peelin’s.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s it,” said +Uncle Amos. “Boys, listen! Mostly always when +a woman’s kind to you there’s something +back of it.”</p> + +<p>“Ach, Amos, you’re soured,” said +Millie.</p> + +<p align="left">“No, not me,” he declared. +“I know there’s still a few good women +in the world. Ach, yea,” he sighed deeply and +looked the incarnation of misery, “soon I’ll +have three to boss me, with Amanda here growin’ +like a weed!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t you know,” +Mrs. Reist reminded him, “how Granny used to +say that one good boss is better than six poor workers? +You don’t appreciate us, Amos.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I give up.” Uncle Amos +spread his hands in surrender. “I give up. When +women start arguin’ where’s a man comin’ +in at?”</p> + +<p align="left">“I wouldn’t give up,” +spoke out Lyman. “A man ought to have the last +word every time.”</p> + +<p>“Ach, you don’t know women,” said +Uncle Amos, chuckling.</p> + +<p align="left">“A man was made to be master,” +the youth went on, evidently quoting some recent reading. +“Woman is the weaker vessel.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Wait till you try to break +one,” came Uncle Amos’s wise comment.</p> + +<p align="left">“I,” said Lyman proudly, +“I could be master of any woman I marry! And +I bet, I dare to bet my pop’s farm, that any +girl I set out to get I can get, too. I’d just +carry her off or something. ’All’s fair +in love and war.’”</p> + +<p align="left">“Them two’s the same thing, +sonny, but you don’t know it yet,” laughed +Uncle Amos. “It sounds mighty strong and brave +to talk like you were a giant or king, or something, +and I only hope I’m livin’ and here in +Crow Hill so I can see how you work that game of carryin’ +off the girl you like. I’d like to see it, I’d +sure like to see it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Uncle Amos, tell us, did +you ever go to see the girls?” asked Amanda +eagerly.</p> + +<p align="left">“Did I ever go to see the girls? +Um-uh, I did!” The man laughed suddenly. “I’ll +tell you about the first time. But now you just go +on with your snitzin’. I can’t be breakin’ +up the party with my yarns. I was just a young fellow +workin’ at home on the farm. Theje was a nice +girl over near Manheim I thought I’d like to +know better, and so one night I fixed up to try my +luck and go see her. It was in fall and got dark pretty +early, and by the time I was done with the farm work +and dressed in my best suit and half-way over to her +house, it was gettin’ dusk. Now I never knew +what it was to be afraid till that year my old Aunty +Betz came to spend a month with us and began to tell +her spook stories. She had a long list of them. One +was about a big black dog that used to come in her +room every night durin’ full moon and put its +paws on her bed. But when she tried to touch it there +was nothing there, and if she’d get up and light +the light it would vanish. She said she always thought +he wanted to show her something, take her to where +there was some gold buried, but she never could get +the dog to do it, for she always lighted the light +and that scared him away. Then she said one time they +moved into a little house, and once when they had a +lot of company she slept on a bed in the garret. She +got awake at night and found the covers off the bed. +She pulled ’em up and something pulled them +off. Then she lighted a candle, but there wasn’t +a thing there. So she went back to bed and the same +thing happened again; down went the covers. She got +frightened and ran down the stairs and slept on the +floor. But that spook was always a mystery. I used +to have shivers chasin’ each other up and down +my back so fast I didn’t know how to sit up +hardly when she was tellin’ them spook stories. +But she had one champion one about a man she knew +who was walkin’ along the country road at night +and something black shot up in front of him, and when +he tried to catch it and ran after it, he rolled into +a fence, and when he sat up, the spook was gone, but +there was a great big hole by the fence-post near +him, and in the hole was a box of money. She could +explain that ghost; it was the spirit of the person +who had buried the money, and he had to help some +person find it so that he could have peace in the +other world. Well, as I said, I was goin’ along +the road on the way to see that girl, and it was about +dark when I got to the lane of her house. I was a +little excited, for it was my first trial at the courtin’ +business. Aunty Betz’s spook stories made me +kinda shaky in the dark, so it’s no wonder I +jumped when something black ran across the road and +stood by the fence as I came along. I remembered her +story of the man who found the gold, and I thought +I’d see whether I could have such luck, so I +ran to the black thing and made a grab--and--it was +a skunk! Well,"--after the laughter died down--"I didn’t +get any gold, but I got something! I yelled, and the +girl I started to call on heard me and come to the +door. I hadn’t any better sense than to go up +to her. But before I could explain, the skunk’s +weapon told the tale. ‘You clear out of here,’ +she hollered; ’who wants such a smell in the +house!’ I cleared out, and when I got home Mom +was in bed, but Pop was readin’ the paper in +the kitchen. I opened the door. ’Clear out of +here,’ he ordered;’ who wants such a smell +in the house! Go to the wood-shed and I’ll get +you soap and water and other clothes.’ So I went +to the wood-shed, and he came out with a lantern and +water and clothes and I began to scrub. After I was +dressed we went to the barn-yard and he held the lantern +while I dug a deep hole, and the clothes, my best +Sunday clothes, went down into the ground and dirt +on top. And that settled courtin’ for a while +with me.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Amos’s story <i>had</i> interfered with +the snitzing.</p> + +<p align="left">“Say,” said Millie, “how +can abody snitz apples when you make ’em laugh +till the tears run down over the face?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, come on,” cried Amanda, +“I just thought of it--let’s tell fortunes +with the peelin’s! Everybody peel an apple with +the peelin’ all in one piece and then throw +it over the right shoulder, and whatever letter it +makes on the floor is the initial of the person you’re +goin’ to marry.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right. Now, Millie, no +cheatin’,” teased Uncle Amos. “Don’t +you go peel yours so it’ll fall into a Z, for +I know that Zach Miller’s been after you this +long while already.”</p> + +<p>“Ach, him? He’s as ugly as seven days’ +rainy weather.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, shoot it,” said +Phil, disgust written on his face as he threw a paring +over his shoulder; “mine always come out an S. +Guess that’s the only letter you can make. S +for Sadie, Susie--who wants them? That’s a rotten +way to tell fortunes!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now look at mine, everybody!” +cried Amanda as she flung her long apple paring over +her shoulder.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s an M,” shouted +Phil. “Mebbe for Martin Landis. Jiminy Christmas, +he’s a pretty nice fellow. If you can hook him----”</p> + +<p align="left">“M stands for Mertzheimer,” +said Lyman proudly. “I guess it means me, Amanda, +so you better begin to mind me now when we play at +recess at school and spell on my side in the spelling +matches.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Huh,” she retorted ungraciously, +“Lyman Mertzheimer, you ain’t the only +M in Lancaster County!”</p> + +<p align="left">“No,” he replied arrogantly, +“but I guess that poor Mart Landis don’t +count. He’s always tending one of his mom’s +babies--some nice beau he’d make! If he ever +goes courting he’ll have to take along one of +the little Landis kids, I bet.”</p> + +<p align="left">Phil laughed, but Amanda flushed in +anger. “I think that’s just grand of Martin +to help his mom like that,” she defended. “Anyhow, +since she has no big girls to help her.”</p> + +<p align="left">“He washes dishes. I saw him +last week with an apron on,” said Lyman, contempt +in his voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Wouldn’t you do that +for your mom if she was poor and had a lot of children +and no one to help her?” asked the girl.</p> + +<p align="left">“Not me! I wouldn’t wash +dishes for no one! Men aren’t made for that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then <i>I</i> don’t think +much of <i>you</i>, Lyman Mertzheimer!” declared +Amanda with a vigorous toss of her red head.</p> + +<p align="left">“Come, come,” Mrs. Reist +interrupted, “you mustn’t quarrel. Of course +Lyman would help his mother if she needed him.”</p> + +<p>Amanda laughed and friendliness was once more restored.</p> + +<p align="left">When the last apple was snitzed Uncle +Amos brought some cold cider from the spring-house, +Millie fetched a dish of cookies from the cellar, and +the snitzing party ended in a feast.</p> + +<p align="left">That night Mrs. Reist followed Amanda +up the stairs to the child’s bedroom. They made +a pretty picture as they stood there, the mother with +her plain Mennonite garb, her sweet face encircled +by a white cap, and the little red-haired child, eager, +active, her dark eyes glimpsing dreams as they focused +on the distant castles in Spain which were a part +of her legitimate heritage of childhood. The room was +like a Nutting picture, with its rag carpet, old-fashioned, +low cherry bed, covered with a pink and white calico +patchwork quilt, its low cherry bureau, its rush-bottom +chairs, its big walnut chest covered with a hand-woven +coverlet gay with red roses and blue tulips. An old-fashioned +room and an old-fashioned mother and daughter--the +elder had seen life, knew its glories and its dangers, +had tasted its sweetness and drained its cups of sorrow, +but the child--in her eyes was still the star-dust +of the “trailing clouds of glory.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mom,” she asked suddenly +as her mother unbraided the red hair and brushed it, +“do you like Lyman Mertzheimer?”</p> + +<p>“Why--yes---” Mrs. Reist hesitated.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I don’t mean that +way, Mom,” the child said wisely. “You +always say abody must like everybody, but I mean like +him for real, like him so you want to be near him. +He’s good lookin’. At school he’s +about the best lookin’ boy there. The big girls +say he’s a regular Dunnis, whatever that is. +But I think sometimes he ain’t so pretty under +the looks, the way he acts and all, Mom.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I know what you mean, Amanda. +Your pop used to say still that people are like apples, +some can fool you good. Remember some we peeled to-night +were specked and showed it on the outside, but some +were red and pretty and when you cut in them--”</p> + +<p>“They were full of worms or rotten!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It’s the hearts of people that makes +them beautiful.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I see, Mom, and I’ll +mind to remember that. I’m gettin’ to know +a lot o’ things now, Mom, ain’t? I like +when you tell me things my pop said. I’m glad +I was big enough to remember him. I know yet what nice +eyes he had, like they was always smilin’ at +you. I wish he wouldn’t died, but I’m +glad he’s not dead for always. People don’t +stay dead like peepies or birds, do they?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No, they’ll live again +some day.” The mother’s voice was low, +but a divine trust shone in her eyes. “Life +would be nothing if it could end for us like it does +for the birds.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Millie says the souls of people +can’t die. That it’s with people just +like it’s with the apple trees. In winter they +look dead and like all they’re good for was +to chop down and burn, then in spring they get green +and the flowers come on them and they’re alive, +and we know they’re alive. I’m glad people +are like that, ain’t you?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes.” She gathered the +child to her arms and kissed the sensitive, eager +little face. Neither Mrs. Reist nor Amanda, as yet, +had read Locksley Hall, but the truth expressed there +was echoing in their souls:</p> + +<p>  “Gone forever! Ever? no--for since +our dying race began,<br> +  Ever, ever, and forever was the leading +light of man.<br> +  Indian warriors dream of ampler hunting +grounds beyond the night;<br> +  Even the black Australian dying hopes +he shall return, a white.<br> +  Truth for truth, and good for good! The +good, the true, the pure, the<br> +    just--<br> +  Take the charm ‘Forever’ from +them, and they crumble into dust.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Mom,” the child +asked a few moments later, “do you mind that +Christmas and the big doll?” An eager light dwelt +in the little girl’s eyes as she thought back +to the happy time when her big, laughing father had +made one in the family circle.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes.” The mother smiled +a bit sadly. But Amanda prattled on gaily.</p> + +<p align="left">“That was the best Christmas +ever I had! You mind how we went to market in Lancaster, +Pop and you and I, near Christmas, and in a window +of a store we saw a great, grand, big doll. She was +bigger’n me and had light hair and blue eyes. +I wanted her, and I told you and Pop and coaxed for +you to buy her. Next week when we went to market and +passed the store she was still in the window. Then +one day Pop went to Lancaster alone and when he came +home I asked if the doll was still there, and he said +she wasn’t in the window. I cried, and was so +disappointed and you said to Pop, ‘That’s +a shame, Philip.’ And I thought, too, it was +a shame he let somebody else buy that doll when I +wanted it so. Then on Christmas morning--what do you +think--I came down-stairs and ran for my presents, +and there was that same big doll settin’ on +the table in the room! Millie and you had dressed her +in a blue dress. Course she wasn’t in the window +when I asked Pop, for he had bought her! He laughed, +and we all laughed, and we had the best Christmas. +I sat on my little rocking-chair and rocked her, and +then I’d sit her on the sofa and look at her--I +was that proud of her.”</p> + +<p>“That’s five, six years ago, Amanda.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I was <i>little</i> then. +I mind a story about that little rockin’-chair, +too, Mom. It’s up in the garret now; I’m +too big for it. But when I first got it I thought +it was wonderful fine. Once Katie Hiestand came here +with her mom, and we were playin’ with our dolls +and not thinkin’ of the chair, and then Katie +saw it and sat in it. And right aways I wanted to +set in it, too, and I made her get off. But you saw +it and you told me I must not be selfish, but must +be polite and let her set in it. My, I remember lots +of things.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m glad, Amanda, if +you remember such things, for I want you to grow up +into a nice, good woman.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Like you and Millie, ain’t? +I’m goin’ to. I ain’t forgot, neither, +that once when I laughed at Katie for saying the Dutch +word for calendar and gettin’ all her English +mixed with Dutch, you told me it’s not nice +to laugh at people. But I forgot it the other day, +Mom, when we laughed at Aunt Rebecca and treated her +mean. But she’s so cranky and--and---”</p> + +<p>“And she helped sew on your dresses,” +added the mother.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now that was ugly for us to +act so! Why, ain’t it funny, Mom, it sounds +so easy to say abody should be kind and yet sometimes +it’s so hard to do it. When Aunt Rebecca comes +next time I’m just goin’ to see once if +I can’t be nice to her.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Of course you are. She’s +comin’ to-morrow to help with the apple butter. +But now you must go to sleep or you can’t get +up early to see Millie put the cider on. Philip, he’s +asleep this long while already.”</p> + +<p align="left">A few minutes later the child was +in bed and called a last good-night to the mother, +who stood in the hall, a little lighted lamp in her +hand. Amanda had an eye for beauty and the picture +of her mother pleased her.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Mom,” she called, +“just stand that way a little once, right there.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, you look wonderful like +a picture I saw once, in that gray dress and the lamp +in your hand. It’s pretty.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, now,” chided the +mother gently, “you go to sleep now. Good-night.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” Amanda called after the +retreating figure.</p> + +<a name="ch3"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER III</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Boiling the Apple Butter</h2> + +<p align="left">Amanda rose early the next morning. +Apple-butter boiling day was always a happy one for +her. She liked to watch the fire under the big copper +kettle, to help with the ceaseless stirring with a +long-handled stirrer. She thrilled at the breathless +moment when her mother tested the thick, dark contents +of the kettle and announced, “It’s done.”</p> + +<p align="left">At dawn she went up the stairs with +Uncle Amos to the big attic and opened and closed +doors for him as he carried the heavy copper kettle +down to the yard. Then she made the same trip with +Millie and helped to carry from the attic heavy stone +crocks in which to store the apple butter.</p> + +<p align="left">After breakfast she went out to the +grassy spot in the rear of the garden where an iron +tripod stood and began to gather shavings and paper +in readiness for the fire. She watched Millie scour +the great copper kettle until its interior shone, +then it was lifted on the tripod, the cider poured +into it, and the fire started. Logs were fed to the +flames until a roaring fire was in blast. Several times +Millie skimmed the foam from the cider.</p> + +<p align="left">“This is one time when signs +don’t work,” the hired girl confided to +the child. “Your Aunt Rebecca says that if you +cook apple butter in the up-sign of the almanac it +boils over easy, but it’s the down-sign to-day, +and yet this cider boils up all the time.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I guess it’ll all burn +in the bottom,” said Amanda, “if it’s +the down-sign.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Not if you stir it good when +the snitz are in. That’s the time the work begins. +Here’s your mom and Philip.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Mom,"--Amanda ran to meet +her mother--"this here’s awful much fun! I wish +we’d boil apple butter every few days.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Just wait once,” said +Millie, “till you’re a little bigger and +want to go off to picnics or somewhere and got to +stay home and help to stir apple butter. Then you’ll +not like it so well. Why, Mrs. Hershey was tellin’ +me last week how mad her girls get still if the apple +butter’s got to be boiled in the hind part of +the week when they want to be done and dressed and +off to visit or to Lancaster instead of gettin’ +their eyes full of smoke stirrin’ apple butter.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Reist laughed.</p> + +<p align="left">“But,” Amanda said with +a tender glance at the hired girl, “I guess +Hershey’s ain’t got no Millie like we to +help.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, pack off now with you,” +Millie said, trying to frown. “I got to stop +this spoilin’ you. You don’t think I’d +stand in the hot sun and stir apple butter while you +go off on a picnic or so when you’re big enough +to help good?”</p> + +<p align="left">“But that’s just what +you would do! I know you! Didn’t you spend almost +your whole Christmas savin’ fund on me and Phil +last year?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, you talk too much! Let +me be, now, I got to boil apple butter.”</p> + +<p align="left">Philip ran for several boxes and old +chairs and put them under a spreading cherry tree. +“We take turns stirrin’,” he explained, +“so those that don’t stir can take it +easy while they wait their turn. Jiminy Christmas, +guess we’ll have a regular party to-day. All +of us are in it, and Aunt Rebecca’s comin’, +and Lyman Mertzheimer, and I guess Martin Landis, +and mebbe some of the little Landis ones and the whole +Crow Hill will be here. Here comes Millie with the +snitz!”</p> + +<p align="left">The pared apples were put into the +kettle, then the stirring commenced. A long wooden +stirrer, with a handle ten feet long, was used, the +big handle permitting the stirrer to stand a comfortable +distance from the smoke and fire.</p> + +<p align="left">The boiling was well under way when +Aunt Rebecca arrived.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, Philip,” +she began as soon as she neared the fire, “you +just stir half! You must do it all around the bottom +of the kettle or the butter’ll burn fast till +it’s done. Here, let me do it once.” She +took the handle from his hands and began to stir vigorously.</p> + +<p align="left">“Good!” cried the boy. +“Now we can roast apples. Here, comes Lyman up +the road, and Martin Landis and the baby. Now we’ll +have some fun!” He pointed to the toad, where +Martin Landis, a neighbor boy, drew near with his +two-year-old brother on his arm.</p> + +<p>“But you keep away from the fire,” ordered +Aunt Rebecca.</p> + +<p align="left">The children ran off to the yard to +greet the newcomers and soon came back joined by Lyman +and Martin and the ubiquitous baby.</p> + +<p align="left">“I told you,” Lyman said +with mocking smiles, “that Martin would have +to bring the baby along.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin Landis was fifteen, but hard +work and much responsibility had added to him wisdom +and understanding beyond his years. His frank, serious +face could at times assume the look of a man of ripened +experience. At Lyman’s words it burned scarlet. +“Ach, go on,” he said quietly; “it’d +do you good if you had a few to carry around; mebbe +then you wouldn’t be such a dude.”</p> + +<p align="left">That brought the laugh at the expense +of the other boy, who turned disdainfully away and +walked to Aunt Rebecca with an offer to stir the apple +butter.</p> + +<p>“No, I’ll do it,” she said in a +determined voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Give me the baby,” said +Mrs. Reist, “then you children can go play.” +The little tot ran to her outstretched arms and was +soon laughing at her soft whispers about young chickens +to feed and ducks to see.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now,” Amanda cried happily, +“since Mom keeps the baby we’ll roast corn +and apples under the kettle.”</p> + +<p align="left">In spite of Aunt Rebecca’s protest, +green corn and ripe apples were soon encased in thick +layers of mud and poked upon the glowing bed under +the kettle.</p> + +<p align="left">“Abody’d think none o’ +you had breakfast,” she said sternly.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” said Mrs. Reist, +“these just taste better because they’re +wrapped in mud. I used to do that at home when I was +little.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I never did. They’ll +get burned yet with their foolin’ round the +fire.”</p> + +<p align="left">Her prophecy came perilously close +to fulfilment later in the day. Amanda, bending near +the fire to turn a mud-coated apple, drew too close +to the lurking flames. Her gingham dress was ready +fuel for the fire. Suddenly a streak of flame leaped +up the hem of it. Aunt Rebecca screamed. Lyman cried +wildly, “Where’s some water?” But +before Mrs. Reist could come to the rescue Martin +Landis had caught the frightened child and thrown +her flat into a dense bed of bean vines near by, smothering +the flames.</p> + +<p align="left">Then he raised her gently. Much handling +of his younger sisters and brothers had made him adept +with frightened children.</p> + +<p align="left">“Come, Manda,” he said +soothingly, “you’re not hurt. Just your +dress is burned a little.”</p> + +<p>“My hand--it’s burned, I guess,” +she faltered.</p> + +<p align="left">Again force of habit swayed Martin. +He bent over and kissed the few red marks on her fingers +as he often kissed the bumped heads and scratched +fingers of the little Landis children.</p> + +<p>“Ach--” Amanda’s hand fluttered +under the kiss.</p> + +<p align="left">Then a realization of what he had +done came to the boy. “Why,” he stammered, +“I didn’t mean--I guess I oughtn’t +done that--I wasn’t thinking, Manda.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Martin, it’s all +right. You didn’t hurt it none.” She misunderstood +him. “See, it ain’t hurt bad at all. But, +Martin, you scared me when you threw me in that bean +patch! But it put the fire out. You’re smart +to think of that so quick.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Reist +found her voice, and the color crept back to her cheeks +again. “Martin, I can’t thank you enough.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um,” Lyman said sneeringly, +“now I suppose Martin’s a hero.”</p> + +<p align="left">“So he is!” said the little +girl with decision. “He saved my life, and I +ain’t forgettin’ it neither.” Then +she sat down by her mother’s side and began +to play with the baby.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, guess the fun’s +over,” said Lyman. “You went and spoiled +it by catching fire.” He went off in sulky mood.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” exclaimed +Aunt Rebecca, “mebbe now you’ll keep away +from this fire once.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda kept away. The fun of the apple-butter +boiling was ended for her. She sat quietly under the +tree while Millie and Aunt Rebecca and Phil took turns +at stirring. She watched passively while Millie poured +pounds of sugar into the boiling mass. She even missed +the customary thrill as some of the odorous contents +of the kettle were tested and the verdict came, “It’s +done!” The thrills of apple-butter boiling were +as nothing to her now. She still felt the wonder of +being rescued from the fire, rescued by a nice boy +with a strong arm and a gentle voice-- what if it +was only a boy she had known all her life!--her heart +enshrined its first hero that day.</p> + +<p align="left">She forgot the terror that had seized +her as the flames licked up her dress, the scorching +touch on her hand was obliterated from her memory +and only the healing gentleness of the kiss remained.</p> + +<p align="left">“He kissed my hand,” she +thought that night as she lay under her patchwork +quilt. “It was just like the stories we read +about in school about the ‘knights of old that +were brave and bold.’”</p> + +<p align="left">She thought of the picture on the +schoolhouse wall. Sir Galahad, the teacher had called +it, and read those lovely lines that Amanda remembered +and liked--"My strength is as the strength of ten because +my heart is pure.”</p> + +<p>Martin was like that!</p> + +<a name="ch4"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER IV</h1> + +<h2 align="center">A Visit to Martin’s Mother</h2> + +<p align="left">When Amanda awoke the next morning +her first thought was of the burnt hand and its healing +kiss. “Why, Martin--ach, Martin--he kissed my +hand,” she said softly to herself. “Just +like they do in the stories about knights--knights +always kiss their ladies’ hands. Ach, I know +what I’ll do! I’ll play Martin Landis is +my knight and I’m his lady grand. Wish Mom was +here, then I’d ask her if she knows anything +about what knights do and how the ladies ought to +act to them. But she’s in Lancaster. Mebbe Millie +would know. I’ll go ask her once.”</p> + +<p align="left">Millie was baking pies when the girl +sought her for the information.</p> + +<p>“Say, Millie!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, what?” The hired +girl brushed the flour from her bare arms and turned +to look at Amanda. “Now I know what you want--you +smell the pies and you want a half-moon sample to +eat before it’s right cold and get your stomach +upset and your face all pimply. Ain’t?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No,” began the child, +then added diplomatically, “why, yes, I do want +that, but that ain’t what I come for.”</p> + +<p align="left">Millie laughed. “Then what? +But don’t bother me for long. I got lots to +do yet. I want to get the pies all done till your mom +gets back.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, Millie, I wondered, do +you know anything about knights?”</p> + +<p>“Not me. I sleep nights.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Millie--knights--the kind +you read about, the men that wear plumes in their +hats.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Feathers, you mean? Why, the +only man I ever heard of wearin’ a feather in +his hat was Yankee Doodle.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Millie, you make me mad! +But I guess you don’t know. Well, tell me this--if +somebody did something for you and you wanted to show +you ’preciated it, what would you do?”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s an easy one! I’d +be nice to them and do things for them or for their +people. Now you run and let me be. ’Bout half +an hour from now you dare come in for your half-moon +pie. Ach, I most forgot! Your mom said you shall take +a little crock of the new apple butter down to Mrs. +Landis.”</p> + +<p>“A little crock won’t go far with all +them children.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yes. It’ll smear +a lot o’ bread. I’ll pack it in a basket +so you can carry it easy. Better put on your sunbonnet +so your hair won’t burn red.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="illus-2.png"><img src="illus-2.png" alt="The rhubarb leaf parasol" border="0" /></a><br /> +The rhubarb leaf parasol</p> + +<p align="left">“Redder, you mean, ain’t? +But I won’t need a bonnet. I’ll take my +new parasol.”</p> + +<p>“Parasol,” echoed Millie. “Now what---”</p> + +<p align="left">But Amanda ran away, laughing, and +returned in a few minutes holding a giant rhubarb +leaf over her head. “Does the green silk of my +parasol look good with my hair?” she asked with +an exaggerated air of grandeur.</p> + +<p align="left">“Go on, now,” Millie said, +laughing, “and don’t spill that apple butter +or you’ll get parasol.”</p> + +<p align="left">With a merry good-bye Amanda set off, +the basket upon her arm, one hand grasping the red +stem of the rhubarb parasol while the great green leaf +flopped up and down upon her head in cool ministration.</p> + +<p align="left">Down the sunny road she trudged, spasmodically +singing bits of gay songs, then again talking to herself. +“This here is a dandy parasol. Cooler’n +a real one and lots nicer’n a bonnet or a hat. +Only I wish it was bigger, so my arms would be covered, +for it’s hot out to-day.”</p> + +<p align="left">When she reached the little red brick +country schoolhouse, half-way between her home and +the Landis farm, she paused in the shade of a great +oak that grew in the school-yard.</p> + +<p align="left">“Guess I’ll rest the apple +butter a while in this shade,” she said to herself, +“and pick a bouquet for my knight’s mom.” + From the grassy roadside she gathered yellow and +gold butter-and-eggs, blue spikes of false dragon’s +head, and edged them with a lacy ruffle of wild carrot +flowers.</p> + +<p align="left">“There, that’s grand!” +she said as she held the bouquet at arm’s length +and surveyed it carefully. “I’ll hold it +out, just so, and I’ll say to Mrs. Landis, ‘Mother +of my knight, I salute you!’ I know she’ll +be surprised. Mebbe I might tell her just how brave +her Martin is and how I made him a knight. She’ll +be glad. It must be a satisfaction to have a boy a +knight.” She smiled in happy anticipation of +the wonderful message she was going to bring Mrs. +Landis. Then she replaced the rhubarb parasol over +her head, picked up the basket, and went down the +country road to the Landis farm.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s good Landis’s +don’t live far from our place,” she thought. +“My parasol’s wiltin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">Like the majority of houses in the +Crow Hill section of country, the Landis house was +set in a frame of green trees and old-fashioned flower +gardens. It flaunted in the face of the passer-by an +old-time front yard. The wide brick walk that led +straight from the gate to the big front porch was +edged on both sides with a row of bricks placed corners +up. On either side of the walk were bushes, long since +placed without the discriminating eye of a landscape +gardener but holding in their very randomness a charm +unrivaled by any precise planting. Mock-orange bushes +and lilacs towered above the low deutzias, while masses +of zinnias, petunias, four-o’clocks, and a score +of other old-fashioned posies crowded against each +other in the long beds that edged the walks and in +the smaller round beds that were dotted here and there +in the grass. Jaded motorists from the city drove +their cars slowly past the glory of the Landis riot +of blossoms.</p> + +<p align="left">As Amanda neared the place she looked +ruefully at her knot of wild flowers. “She’s +got so many pretty ones,” she thought. “But, +ach, I guess she’ll like these here, too, long +as they’re a present.”</p> + +<p align="left">Two of the Landis children ran to +greet Amanda as she opened the gate and entered the +yard.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll lay my parasol by +the gate,” she said. “Where’s your +mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">“In the kitchen, cannin’ +blackberries,” said little Henry.</p> + +<p align="left">As Amanda rounded the corner of the +house, the two children clinging to her arm, Mrs. +Landis came to the kitchen door.</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother of my knight, I salute +you,” said Amanda, making as low a bow as the +two barnacle children, the bouquet and the basket with +its crock of apple butter, would allow.</p> + +<p align="left">“What,” laughed Mrs. Landis. +“Now what was that you said? The children make +so much noise I can’t hear sometimes. Henry, +don’t hang so on Amanda’s arm, it’s +too hot.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I said--why, I said--I have +some apple butter for you that Mom sent and I picked +a bouquet for you,” the child replied, her courage +suddenly gone from her.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, ain’t that nice! +Come right in.” The woman held the screen door +open for the visitor.</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Landis, mother of the imaginary +knight and of six other children, was a sturdy, well-built +woman, genial and good-natured, as stout people are +reputed to be. In spite of hard work she retained a +look of youthfulness about her which her plain Mennonite +dress and white cap accentuated. An artist with an +appreciative eye might have said that the face of +that mother was like a composite picture of all the +Madonnas of the old masters--tender, love-lighted yet +far-seeing and reverent.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda had always loved Mrs. Landis +and spent many hours in her home, attracted by the +baby--there always was one, either in arms or just +wobbling about on chubby little legs.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now ain’t it nice of +your mom to send us that new apple butter! And for +you to pick the flowers for me! Sattie for both. I +say still that the wild flowers beat the ones on the +garden beds. And how pretty you fixed them!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mom, Mom,” whispered +little Henry, “dare I smear me a piece of bread?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you don’t make crumbs.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Mom,” cried Mary +Landis, who came running in from the yard. “What +d’you think? Manda left her green parasol out +by the front gate and Henry’s chewed the handle +off of it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Chewed the handle off a parasol--what--how?” +said the surprised mother.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda laughed. “But don’t +you worry about it, Mrs. Landis,” she said, +“for it was a rhubarb parasol.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh!” A merry laugh followed +the announcement about the edible parasol handle and +Mrs. Landis went back to spreading thick slices of +bread with apple butter while three pairs of eager +hands were reaching out to her.</p> + +<p align="left">A tiny wail which soon grew in volume +sounded from a room in the front of the house.</p> + +<p>“The baby’s awake,” said Amanda. +“Dare I fetch him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Go right in.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda went through two rooms and +came to a semi-darkened side room where the smallest +Landis was putting forth a loud protest at his fancied +neglect.</p> + +<p align="left">“Come on, Johnny, don’t +cry no more. Manda’s goin’ to take you--see!” +She raised the baby, who changed from crying to laughter.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ain’t he dear!” +Amanda said as she brought the baby into the kitchen. +“And so bright he is for not quite six months +old. I remember how old he is because it was on my +mom’s last birthday in March that Millie said +you had another baby and I remember, too, that Aunt +Rebecca was there and she said, ‘What, them +Landis’s got another baby! Poor thing!’ +I asked Mom why she said that and she thought Aunt +Rebecca meant that babies make so much work for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, abody works anyhow, might +as well work tendin’ babies. Put your cheek +against Johnny’s face once, Amanda.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda bent her head and touched the +soft cheek of the child. “Why,” she said, +“ain’t it soft, now! Ain’t babies +just too dear and sweet! I guess Aunt Rebecca don’t +know how nice they are.”</p> + +<p>“Poor thing,” said Mrs. Landis.</p> + +<p align="left">“Poor--she ain’t poor!” +Amanda corrected her. “She owns two farms and +got lots of money besides.”</p> + +<p>“But no children--poor thing,” repeated +Mrs. Landis.</p> + +<p>Amanda looked at her, wondering.</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda,” said the white-capped +mother as she wiped some blackberry juice from little +Henry’s fingers, “abody can have lots of +money and yet be poor, and others can have hardly +any money and yet be rich. It’s all in what +abody means by rich and what kind of treasures you +set store by. I wouldn’t change places with +your rich Aunt Rebecca for all the farms in Lancaster +County.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I guess not!” Amanda +could understand her attitude. “And Mom and +Millie say still you got such nice children. But Martin +now,” she said with assumed seriousness as she +saw him step on the porch to enter the kitchen--"your +Martin pushed me in a bean patch yesterday and I fell +down flat on my face.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin!” his mother began +sternly. “What for did you act so?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda, don’t you tell!” +the boy commanded, his face flushing. “Don’t +you dare tell!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I got to now, I started it. +Ach, Mrs. Landis, you dare be proud of him! My dress +caught fire and none of us had sense but him. He smothered +it by throwin’ me in the bean patch and he--he’s +a hero!”</p> + +<p align="left">“A hero!” cried little +Henry. “Mart’s a hero!” while the +mother smiled proudly.</p> + +<p align="left">“Manda Reist,” Martin +spoke quickly as he edged to the door. “Amanda +Reist, next time--next time I’ll--darn it, I’ll +just let you burn up!” He ran from the room +and disappeared round the corner of the house.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why"--Amanda’s lips trembled--"ain’t +he mean! I just wanted to be nice to him and he got +mad.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t mind him,” +soothed the mother. “Boys are funny. He’s +not mad at you, he just don’t like too much +fuss made over what he done. But all the time he’s +tickled all over to have you call him a hero.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh--are boys like that? Phil’s +not. But he ain’t a knight. I guess knights +like to pretend they’re very modest even if they’re +full of pride.” Mrs. Landis was too busy putting +blackberries into the jars to catch the import of +the child’s words. The word knight escaped her +hearing.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I must go now,” +said the small visitor. “I’ll come again.”</p> + +<p>“All right, do, Amanda.”</p> + +<p align="left">She put the baby in its coach, took +up the empty basket, and after numerous good-byes +to the children went down the road to her home. The +rhubarb parasol gone, the sun beat upon her uncovered +head but she was unmindful of the intense heat. Her +brain was wholly occupied with thoughts of Martin +Landis and his strange behavior.</p> + +<p align="left">“Umph,” she decided finally, +“men <i>are</i> funny things! I’m just +findin’ it out. And I guess knights are queerer’n +others yet! Wonder if Millie kept my half-moon pie +or if Phil sneaked it. Abody’s just got to watch +out for these men folks!”</p> + +<a name="ch5"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER V</h1> + +<h2 align="center">At Aunt Rebecca’s House</h2> + +<p align="left">Several weeks after the eventful apple-butter +boiling at the Reist farm, Aunt Rebecca invited the +Reist family to spend a Sunday at her home.</p> + +<p align="left">“I ain’t goin’, +Mom,” Philip announced. “I don’t +like it there. Dare I stay home with Millie?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mebbe Millie wants to come +along,” suggested his mother.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I guess not this time. +Just you go and Phil and I’ll stay and tend +the house and feed the chickens and look after things.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I’m goin’!” +spoke up Amanda. “Aunt Rebecca’s funny +and bossy but I like to go to her house, it’s +so little and cute, everything.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Cute,” scoffed the boy. +“Everything’s cute to a girl. You dare +go, I won’t! Last time I was there I picked +a few of her honeysuckle flowers and pulled that stem +out o’ them to get the drop of honey that’s +in each one, and she caught me and slapped my hand--mind +you! Guess next she’ll be puttin’ up some +scare-bees to keep the bees off her flowers. But say, +Manda, if she gives you any of them little red and +white striped peppermint candies like she does still, +sneak me a few.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Humph! You don’t go to +see her but you want her candy! I’d be ashamed, +Philip Reist!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Hush, hush,” warned Mrs. +Reist. “Next you two’ll be fightin’, +and on a Sunday, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">The girl laughed. “Ach, Mom, +guess we both got the tempers that goes with red hair. +But it’s Sunday, so I’ll be good. I’m +glad we’re goin’ to Aunt Rebecca. That’s +a nice drive.”</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca lived alone in a cottage +at the edge of Landisville, a beautiful little town +several miles from the Reist farm at Crow Hill. During +her husband’s life they lived on one of the big +farms of Lancaster County, where she slaved in the +manual labor of the great fields. Many were the hours +she spent in the hot sun of the tobacco fields, riding +the planter in the early spring, later hoeing the rich +black soil close to the little young plants, in midsummer +finding and killing the big green tobacco worms and +topping and suckering the plants so that added value +might be given the broad, strong leaves. Then later +in the summer she helped the men to thread the harvested +stalks on laths and hang them in the long open shed +to dry.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca had married Jonas Miller, +a rich man. All the years of their life together on +the farm seemed a visible verification of the old +saying, “To him that hath shall be given.” +A special Providence seemed to hover over their acres +of tobacco. Storms and destructive hail appeared to +roam in a swath just outside their farm. The Jonas +Miller tobacco fields were reputed to be the finest +in the whole Garden Spot county, and the Jonas Miller +bank account grew correspondingly fast. But the bank +account, however quickly it increased, failed to give +Jonas Miller and his wife full pleasure, unless, as +some say, the mere knowledge of possession of wealth +can bring pleasure to miserly hearts. For Jonas Miller +was, in the vernacular of the Pennsylvania Dutch, +“almighty close.” Millie, Reists’ +hired girl, said,” That there Jonas is too stingy +to buy long enough pants for himself. I bet he gets +boys’ size because they’re cheaper, for +the legs o’ them always just come to the top +o’ his shoes. Whoever lays him out when he’s +dead once will have to put pockets in his shroud for +sure! And he’s made poor Becky just like him. +It ain’t in her family to be so near; why, Mrs. +Reist is always givin’ somebody something! But +mebbe when he dies once and his wife gets the money +in her hand she’ll let it fly.”</p> + +<p align="left">However, when Jonas Miller died and +left the hoarded money to his wife she did not let +it fly. She rented the big farm and moved to the little +old-fashioned house in Landisville--a little house +whose outward appearance might have easily proclaimed +its tenant poor. There she lived alone, with occasional +visits and visitors to break the monotony of her existence.</p> + +<p align="left">That Sunday morning of the Reist visit, +Uncle Amos hitched the horse to the carriage, tied +it by the front fence of the farm, then he went up-stairs +and donned his Sunday suit of gray cloth. Later he +brought out his broad-brimmed Mennonite hat and called +to Amanda and her mother, “I’m ready. +Come along!”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist wore a black cashmere shawl +pinned over her plain gray lawn dress and a stiff +black silk bonnet was tied under her chin. Amanda +skipped out to the yard, wearing a white dress with +a wide buff sash. A matching ribbon was tied on her +red hair.</p> + +<p align="left">“Jiminy,” whistled Uncle +Amos as she ran to him and swung her leghorn hat on +its elastic. “Jiminy, you’re pretty---”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, am I, Uncle Amos?” +She smiled radiantly. “Am I really pretty?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Hold on, here!” He tried +to look very sober. “If you ain’t growin’ +up for sure! Lookin’ for compliments a’ready, +same as all the rest. I was goin’ to say that +you’re pretty fancy dressed for havin’ +a Mennonite mom.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Uncle Amos!” Amanda +laughed and tossed her head so the yellow bow danced +like a butterfly. “I don’t believe you +at all! You’re too good to be findin’ +fault like that! Millie says so, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“She does, eh? She does? Just +what does Millie say about me now?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, she said yesterday that +you’re the nicest man and have the biggest heart +of any person she knows.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um--so! And Millie says that, +does she? Um--so! well, well"--a glow of joy spread +in his face and stained his neck and ears. Fortunately, +for his future peace of mind, the child did not notice +the flush. A swallowtail butterfly had flitted among +the zinnias and attracted the attention of Amanda +so it was diverted from her uncle. But he still smiled +as Millie opened the front door and she and Mrs. Reist +stepped on the porch.</p> + +<p align="left">Millie, in her blue gingham dress +and her checked apron, her straight hair drawn back +from her plain face, was certainly no vision to cause +the heart of the average man to pump faster. But as +Amos looked at her he saw suddenly something lovelier +than her face. She walked to the gate, smoothing the +shawl of Mrs. Reist, patting the buff sash of the +little girl.</p> + +<p>“Big heart,” thought Amos, “it’s +her got the big heart!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good-bye, safe journey,” +the hired girl called after them as they started down +the road. “Don’t worry about us. Me and +Phil can manage alone. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p align="left">The road to Landisville led past green +fields of tobacco and corn, large farmhouses where +old-fashioned flowers made a vivid picture in the +gardens, orchards and woodland tracts, their green +shade calling invitingly. Once they crossed a wandering +little creek whose shallow waters flowed through lovely +meadows where boneset plants were white with bloom +and giant eupatorium lifted its rosy heads. A red-headed +flicker flew screaming from a field as they passed, +and a fussy wren scolded at them from a fence corner.</p> + +<p align="left">“She’ll have a big job,” +said Uncle Amos, “if she’s goin’ +to scold every team and automobile that passes here +this mornin’. Such a little thing to be so sassy!”</p> + +<p align="left">As they came to Landisville and drove +into the big churchyard there were already many carriages +standing in the shade of the long open shed and numerous +automobiles parked in the sunny yard.</p> + +<p align="left">A few minutes later they entered the +big brick meeting-house and sat down in the calm of +the sanctuary. The whispers of newcomers drifted through +the open windows, steps sounded on the bare floor of +the church, but finally all had entered and quiet +fell upon the place.</p> + +<p align="left">The simple service of the Mennonite +Church is always appealing and helpful. The music +of voices, without any accompaniment of musical instrument, +the simple prayers and sermons, are all devoid of +ostentation or ornamentation. Amanda liked to join +in the singing and did so lustily that morning. But +during the sermon she often fell to dreaming. The +quiet meeting-house where only the calm voice of the +preacher was heard invited the building of wonderful +castles in Spain. Their golden spires reared high +in the blue of heaven... she would be a lady in a +trailing, silken gown, Martin would come, a plumed +and belted knight, riding on a pure white steed like +that in the Sir Galahad picture at school, and he’d +repeat to her those beautiful words, “My strength +is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.” +Was there really any truth in that poem? Could one +be strong as ten because the heart was pure? Of course! +It had to be true! Martin could be like that. He’d +lift her to the saddle on the pure white horse and +they’d ride away together to one of those beautiful +castles in Spain, high up on the mountains, so high +they seemed above the clouds...</p> + +<p align="left">Then she came back to earth suddenly. +The meeting was over and Aunt Rebecca stood ready +to take them to her home.</p> + +<p align="left">The country roads were filled with +carriages and automobiles; the occupants of the former +nodded a cordial how-de-do, though most of them were +strangers, but the riders in the motors sped past without +a sign of friendliness.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” said Aunt +Rebecca, “since them automobiles is so common +abody don’t get many how-de-dos no more as you +travel along the country roads. Used to be everybody’d +speak to everybody else they’d meet on the road--here, +Amos,” she laid a restraining hand upon the reins. +“Stop once! I see a horseshoe layin’ in +the road and it’s got two nails in it, too. +That’s powerful good luck! Stop once and let +me get it.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amos chuckled and with a loud “Whoa” +brought the horse to a standstill. Aunt Rebecca climbed +from the carriage, picked up the trophy of good luck +and then took her seat beside her brother again, a +smile upon her lined old face.</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s three horseshoes +I have now. I never let one lay. I pick up all I find +and take them home and hang them on the old peach tree +in the back yard. I know they bring good luck. Mebbe +if I hadn’t picked up all them three a lot o’ +trouble would come to me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Have it your way,” conceded +Uncle Amos. “They don’t do you no hurt, +anyhow. But, Rebecca,” he said as they came within +sight of her little house, “you ought to get +your place painted once.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, my goodness, what for? +When it’s me here alone. I think the house looks +nice. My flowers are real pretty this year, once. Course, +I don’t fool with them like you do. I have the +kind that don’t take much tendin’ and +come up every year without bein’ planted. Calico +flowers and larkspur and lady-slippers are my kind. +This plantin’ and hoein’ at flowers is +all for nothin’. It’s all right to work +so at beans and potatoes and things you can eat when +they grow, but what good are flowers but to look at! +I done my share of hoein’ and diggin’ and +workin’ in the ground. I near killed myself when +Jonas lived yet, in them tobacco patches. I used to +say to him still, we needn’t work so hard and +slave like that after we had so much money put away, +but he was for workin’ as long as we could, +and so we kept on till he went. He used to say money +gets all if you begin to spend it and don’t earn +more. Jonas was savin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“He sure was, that he was,” +seconded Uncle Amos with a twinkle in his eyes. “Savin’ +for you and now you’re savin’ for somebody +that’ll make it fly when you go, I bet. Some +day you’ll lay down and die and your money’ll +be scattered. If you leave me any, Becky,” he +teased her, “I’ll put it all in an automobile.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What, them wild things! Road-hogs, +I heard somebody call ’em, and I think it’s +a good name. My goodness, abody ain’t safe no +more since they come on the streets. They go toot, +toot, and you got to hop off to one side in the mud +or the ditch, it don’t matter to them. I hate +them things! Only don’t never take me to the +graveyard in one of them.”</p> + +<p align="left">“By that time,” said Uncle +Amos, “they’ll have flyin’ machine +hearses; they’ll go faster.”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, Amos, how you +talk! Ain’t you ashamed to make fun at your +old sister that way! But Mom always said when you was +little that you seemed a little simple, so I guess +you can’t help it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Na-ha,” exulted Amanda, +with impish delight. “That’s one on you. +Aunt Rebecca ain’t so dumb like she lets on +sometimes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, no,” Aunt Rebecca +said, laughing. “’A blind pig sometimes +finds an acorn, too.’”</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca’s table, though +not lavishly laden as are those of most of the Pennsylvania +Dutch, was amply filled with good, substantial food. +The fried sausage was browned just right, the potatoes +and lima beans well-cooked, the cold slaw, with its +dash of red peppers, was tasty and the snitz pie--Uncle +Amos’s favorite--was thick with cinnamon, its +crust flaky and brown.</p> + +<p align="left">After the dishes were washed Aunt +Rebecca said, “Now then, we’ll go in the +parlor.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, in the parlor!” exclaimed +Amanda. “Why, abody’d think we was company. +You don’t often take us in the parlor.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, well, you won’t +make no dirt and I just thought to-day, once, I’d +take you in the parlor to sit a while. It don’t +get used hardly. Wait till I open the shutters.”</p> + +<p align="left">She led the way through a little hall +to the front room. As she opened the door a musty +odor came to the hall.</p> + +<p align="left">“It smells close,” said +Aunt Rebecca, sniffing. “But it’ll be all +right till I get some screens in.” She pulled +the tasseled cords of the green shades, opened the +slatted shutters, and a flood of summer light entered +the room. “Ach,” she said impatiently as +she hammered at one window, “I can hardly get +this one open still, it sticks itself so.” But +after repeated thumps on the frame she succeeded in +raising it and placing an old-fashioned sliding screen.</p> + +<p>“Now sit down and take it good,” she invited.</p> + +<p align="left">Uncle Amos sank into an old-fashioned +rocker with high back and curved arms, built throughout +for the solid comfort of its occupants. Mrs. Reist +chose an old hickory Windsor chair, Aunt Rebecca selected, +with a sigh of relief, a fancy reed rocker, given +in exchange for a book of trading stamps.</p> + +<p align="left">“This here’s the best +chair in the house and it didn’t cost a cent,” +she announced as she rocked in it.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda roamed around the room. “I +ain’t been in here for long. I want to look +around a little. I like these dishes. I wish we had +some like them.” She tiptoed before a corner +cupboard filled with antiques.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yes,” her aunt answered, +“mebbe it looks funny, ain’t, to have a +glass cupboard in the parlor, but I had no other room +for it, the house is so little. If I didn’t +think so much of them dishes I’d sold them a’ready. +That little glass with the rim round the bottom of +it I used to drink out of it at my granny’s +house when I was little. Them dark shiny dishes like +copper were Jonas’s mom’s. And I like to +keep the pewter, too, for abody can’t buy it +these days.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda looked up. On the top shelf +of the cupboard was a silver lustre pitcher, a teapot +of rose lustre, a huge willow platter with its quaint +blue design, several pewter bowls, a plate with a crude +peacock in bright colors--an array of antiques that +would have awakened covetousness in the heart of a +connoisseur.</p> + +<p align="left">A walnut pie-crust tilt top table +stood in one corner of the room, a mahogany gateleg +occupied the centre, its beauty largely concealed by +a cover of yellow and white checked homespun linen, +upon which rested a glass oil lamp with a green paper +shade, a wide glass dish filled with pictures, an +old leather-bound album with heavy brass clasps and +hinges. A rag carpet, covered in places with hooked +rugs, added a proper note of harmony, while the old +walnut chairs melted into the whole like trees in +a woodland scene. The whitewashed walls were bare +save for a large square mirror with a wide mahogany +frame, a picture holder made from a palm leaf fan +and a piece of blue velvet briar stitched in yellow, +and a cross-stitch canvas sampler framed with a narrow +braid of horsehair from the tail of a dead favorite +of long ago.</p> + +<p>“What’s pewter made of, Aunt Rebecca?” +asked the child.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, of tin and lead. And it’s +a pity they don’t make it and use lots of it +like they used to long ago. For you can use pewter +spoons in vinegar and they don’t turn black +like some of these things that look like silver but +ain’t. Pewter is good ware and I think sometimes +that the people that lived when it was used so much +were way ahead of the people to-day. Pewter’s +the same all through, no thin coatin’ of something +shiny that can wear off and spoil the spoons or dishes. +It’s old style now but it’s good and pretty.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, that’s so,” +agreed Amanda. It was surprising to the little girl +that the acidulous old aunt could, so unexpectedly, +utter beautiful, suggestive thoughts. Oh, Aunt Rebecca’s +house was a wonderful place. She must see more of +the treasures in the parlor.</p> + +<p align="left">Finally her activity annoyed Aunt +Rebecca. “My goodness,” came the command, +“you sit down once! Here, look at the album. +Mebbe that will keep you quiet for a while.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda sat on a low footstool and +took the old album on her knees. She uttered many +delighted squeals of surprise and merriment as she +turned the thick pages and looked at the pictures +of several generations ago. A little girl with ruffled +pantalets showing below her full skirt and a fat little +boy with full trousers reaching half-way between his +knees and his shoetops sent Amanda into a gale of +laughter. “Oh, I wish Phil was here. What funny +people!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Let me see once,” asked +Aunt Rebecca. “Why, that’s Amos and your +mom.”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist smiled and Uncle Amos chuckled. +“We’re peaches there, ain’t? I guess +if abody thinks back right you see there were as many +crazy styles in olden times as there is now.”</p> + +<p align="left">Tintypes of men and women in peculiar +dress of Aunt Rebecca’s youth called forth much +comment and many questions from the interested Amanda. +“Are there no pictures in here of you?” +she asked her aunt.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I guess so. On the last +page or near there. That one,” she said as the +child found it, a tintype of a young man seated on +a vine-covered seat and a comely young woman standing +beside him, one hand laid upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“And is that Uncle Jonas?”</p> + +<p>“No--my goodness, no! That’s Martin Landis.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin Landis? Not my--not +the Martin Landis’s pop that lives near us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that one.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why"--Amanda was wide-eyed +and curious--"what were you doin’ with your +hand on his shoulder so and your picture taken with +him?”</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca laughed. “Ach, +I had dare to do that for we was promised then, engaged +they say now.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You were goin’ to marry +Martin Landis’s pop once?” The girl could +not quite believe it.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. But he was poor and along +came Jonas Miller and he was rich and I took him. +But the money never done me no good. Mebbe abody shouldn’t +say it, since he’s dead, but Jonas was stingy. +He’d squeeze a dollar till the eagle’d +holler. He made me pinch and save till I got so I +didn’t feel right when I spent money. Now, since +he’s gone, I don’t know how. I act so +dumb it makes me mad at myself sometimes. If I go to +Lancaster and buy me a whole plate of ice-cream it +kinda bothers me. I keep wonderin’ what Jonas’d +think, for he used to say that half a plate of cream’s +enough for any woman. But mebbe it was to be that I +married Jonas instead of Martin Landis. Martin is +a good man but all them children--my goodness! I guess +I got it good alone in my little house long side of +Mrs. Landis with all her children to take care of.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda remembered the glory on the +face of Mrs. Landis as she had said, “Abody +can have lots of money and yet be poor and others can +have hardly any money and yet be rich. It’s +all in what abody means by rich and what kind of treasures +you set store by. I wouldn’t change places with +your rich Aunt Rebecca for all the farms in Lancaster +County.” Poor Aunt Rebecca, she pitied her! +Then she remembered the words of the memory gem they +had analyzed in school last year, “Where ignorance +is bliss ’tis folly to be wise.” She could +understand it now! So long as Aunt Rebecca didn’t +see what she missed it was all right. But if she ever +woke up and really felt what her life might have been +if she had married the poor man she loved--poor Aunt +Rebecca! A halo of purest romance hung about the old +woman as the child looked up at her.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” the woman +broke the spell, “it’s funny how old pictures +make abody think back. That old polonaise dress, now,” +she went on in reminiscent strain, “had the +nicest buttons on. I got some of ’em yet on +my charm string.”</p> + +<p>“Charm string--what’s a charm string?”</p> + +<p>“Wait once. I’ll show you.”</p> + +<p align="left">The woman left the room. They heard +her tramp about up-stairs and soon she returned with +a long string of buttons threaded closely together +and forming a heavy cable.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, let me see! Ain’t +that nice!” exclaimed Amanda. “Where did +you ever get so many buttons and all different?”</p> + +<p align="left">“We used to beg them. When I +was a girl everybody mostly had a charm string. I +kept puttin’ buttons on mine till I was well +up in my twenties, then the string was full and big +so I stopped. I used to hang it over the looking glass +in the parlor and everybody that came looked at it.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda fingered the charm string interestedly. +Antique buttons, iridescent, golden, glimmering, some +with carved flowers, others globules of colored glass, +many of them with quaint filigree brass mounting over +colored background, a few G. A. R. buttons from old +uniforms, speckled china ones like portions of bird +eggs--all strung together and each one having a history +to the little old eccentric woman who had cherished +them through many years.</p> + +<p align="left">“This one Martin Landis give +me for the string and this one is from Jonas’ +wedding jacket and this pretty blue glass one a girl +gave me that’s dead this long a’ready.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh"--Amanda’s eyes shone. +She turned to her mother, “Did you ever have +a charm string, Mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. A pretty one. But I let +you play with it when you were a baby and the string +got broke and the buttons put in the box or lost.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, but that spites me. I’d +like to see it and have you tell where the buttons +come from. I like old things like that, I do.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then mebbe you’d like +to see my friendship cane,” said Aunt Rebecca.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, yes! What’s that?” +Amanda rose from her chair, eager to see what a friendship +cane could be.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, sit down! You +get me all hoodled up when you act so jumpy,” +said the aunt. Then she walked to a corner of the parlor, +reached behind the big cupboard and drew out a cane +upon which were tied some thirty ribbon bows of various +colors.</p> + +<p align="left">“And is that a friendship cane?” +asked Amanda. “What’s it for?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, it was just such a style, +good for nothin’ but for the girls of my day +to have a little pleasure with. We got boys and girls +to give us pretty ribbons and we exchanged with some +and then we tied ’em on the cane. See, they’re +all old kinds o’ ribbons yet. Some are double-faced +satin and some with them little scallops at the edge, +and they’re pretty colors, too. I could tell +the name of every person who give me a ribbon for +that cane. My goodness, lots o’ them boys and +girls been dead long a’ready. I guess abody +shouldn’t hold up such old things so long, it +just makes you feel bad still when you rake ’em +out and look at ‘em. Here now, let me put it +away, that’s enough lookin’ for one day.” +She spoke brusquely and put the cane into its hiding-place +behind the glass cupboard.</p> + +<p align="left">As Amanda watched the stern, unlovely +face during the critical, faultfinding conversation +which followed, she thought to herself, “I just +believe that Uncle Amos told the truth when he said +that Aunt Rebecca’s like a chestnut burr. She’s +all prickly on the outside but she’s got a nice, +smooth side to her that abody don’t often get +the chance to see. Mebbe now, if she’d married +Martin Landis’s pop she’d be by now just +as nice as Mrs. Landis. It wonders me now if she would!”</p> + +<a name="ch6"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER VI</h1> + +<h2 align="center">School Days</h2> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist’s desire for a happy +childhood for her children was easily realized, especially +in the case of Amanda. She had the happy faculty of +finding joy in little things, things commonly called +insignificant. She had a way of taking to herself +each beauty of nature, each joy note of the birds, +the airy loveliness of the clouds, and being thrilled +by them.</p> + +<p align="left">With Phil and Martin Landis--and the +ubiquitous Landis baby--she explored every field, +woods and roadside in the Crow Hill section of the +county. From association with her Phil and Martin had +developed an equal interest in outdoors. The Landis +boy often came running into the Reist yard calling +for Amanda and exclaiming excitedly, “I found +a bird’s nest! It’s an oriole this time, +the dandiest thing way out on the end of a tiny twig. +Come on see it!”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda was the moving spirit of that +little group of nature students. Phil and Martin might +have never known an oriole from a thrush if she had +not led them along the path of knowledge. Sometimes +some of the intermediate Landis children joined the +group. At times Lyman Mertzheimer sauntered along +and invited himself, but his interest was feigned +and his welcome was not always cordial.</p> + +<p align="left">“You Lyman Mertzheimer,” +Amanda said to him one day, “if you want to go +along to see birds’ nests you got to keep quiet! +You think it’s smart to scare them off the nests. +That poor thrasher, now, that you scared last week! +You had her heart thumpin’ so her throat most +burst. And her with her nest right down on the ground +where we could watch the babies if we kept quiet. +You’re awful mean!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Huh,” he answered, “what’s +a bird! All this fuss about a dinky brown bird that +can’t do anything but flop its wings and squeal +when you go near it. It was fun to see her flop all +around the ground.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, you nasty mean thing, Lyman +Mertzheimer"--for a moment Amanda found no words to +express her contempt of him--"sometimes I just hate +you!”</p> + +<p align="left">He went off laughing, flinging back +the prediction, “But some day you’ll do +the reverse, Amanda Reist.” He felt secure in +the belief that he could win the love of any girl +he chose if he exerted himself to do so.</p> + +<p align="left">The little country school of Crow +Hill was necessarily limited in its curriculum, hence +when Amanda expressed a desire to become a teacher +it was decided to send her to the Normal School at +Millersville. At that time she was sixteen and was +grown into an attractive girl.</p> + +<p align="left">“I know I’m not beautiful,” +she told her mother one day after a long, searching +survey in the mirror. “My hair is too screaming +red, but then it’s fluffy and I got a lot of +it. Add to red hair a nose that’s a little pug +and a mouth that’s a little too big and I guess +the combination won’t produce any Cleopatra +or any Titian beauty.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But you forgot the eyes,” +her mother said tenderly. “They are pretty brown +and look--ach, I can’t put it in fine words like +you could, but I mean this: Your eyes are such honest +eyes and always look so happy, like you could see +through dark places and find the light and could look +on wicked people and see the good in them and be glad +about it. You keep that look in your eyes and no pretty +girl will be lovelier that you are, Amanda.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother,” the girl cried +after she had kissed the white-capped woman, “if +my eyes shine it’s the faith and love you taught +me that’s shining in them.”</p> + +<p align="left">During the summer preceding Amanda’s +departure for school there was pleasant excitement +at the Reist farm. Millie was proud of the fact that +Amanda was “goin’ to Millersville till +fall” and lost no oppor-tunity to mention it +whenever a friend or neighbor dropped in for a chat.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca did not approve of too +much education. “Of course,” she put it, +“you’re spendin’ your own money for +this Millersville goin’, but I think you’d +do better if you put it to bank and give it to Amanda +when she gets married, once. This here rutchin’ +round to school so long is all for nothin’. +I guess she’s smart enough to teach country school +without goin’ to Millersville yet.”</p> + +<p align="left">However, her protests fell heedlessly +on the ears of those most concerned and when the preparation +of new clothes began Aunt Rebecca was the first to +offer her help. “It’s all for nothin’, +this school learnin’, but if she’s goin’ +anyhow I can just as well as not help with the sewin’,” +she announced and spent a few weeks at the Reist farm, +giving valuable aid in the making of Amanda’s +school outfit.</p> + +<p align="left">Those two weeks were long ones to +Philip, who had scant patience with the querulous +old aunt. But Amanda, since she had glimpsed the girlhood +romance of the woman, had a kindlier feeling for her +and could smile at the faultfinding or at least run +away from it without retort if it became too vexatious.</p> + +<p align="left">Crow Hill was only an hour’s +ride from the school at Millersville, so Amanda spent +most of her weekends at home. Each time she had wonderful +tales to tell, at least they seemed wonderful to the +little group at the Reist farmhouse. Mrs. Reist and +Uncle Amos, denied in their youth of more than a very +meagre education, took just pride in the girl who +was pursuing the road to knowledge. Philip, boylike, +expressed no pride in his sister, but he listened attentively +to her stories of how the older students played pranks +on the newcomers. Millie was proud of having <i>our +Amanda</i> away at school and did not hesitate to +express her pride. She felt sure that before the girl’s +three years’ course was completed the name of +Amanda Reist would shine above all others on the pages +of the Millersville Normal School records.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I’ve learned a few +things about human nature,” said Amanda on her +second visit home. “You know I told you last +week how nice the older girls are to the new ones. +A crowd of Seniors came into our room the other day +and they were lovely! One of them told me she adored +red hair and she just knew all the girls were going +to love me because I have such a sweet face and I’m +so dear--she emphasized every other word! I wondered +what ailed her. She didn’t know me well enough +to talk like that. Before they left she began to talk +about the Page Literary Society--’Dear, we’re +all Pageites, and it’s the best, finest society +in the school. We do have such good times. You ought +to join. All the very nicest girls of the school are +in it.’ I promised to think it over. Well, soon +after they left another bunch of girls came into our +room and they were just as sweet to us. By and by one +of them said, ’Dear, we’re all in the +Normal Literary Society. It’s the best society +in the school; all the very nicest girls belong to +it. You should join it.’”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ha, electioneering, was they!” +said Uncle Amos, laughing. “Well, leave it to +the women. When they get the vote once we men got to +pony up. But which society did you join?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Neither. I’m going to +wait a while and while I’m waiting I’m +having a glorious time. The Pageites invited me to +a fudge party one night, the Normalites took me for +a long walk, a Pageite treated me to icecream soda +one day and a Normalite gave me some real home-made +cake the same afternoon. It’s great to be on +the fence when both sides are coaxing you to jump +their way.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” said Millie, her +face glowing with interest and pride in the girl, +“if you ain’t the funniest! I just bet +them girls all want you to come their way. But what +kind o’ meals do you get?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good, Millie. Of course, though, +I haven’t any cellar to go to for pie or any +cooky crock filled with sand-tarts with shellbarks +on the top.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t you worry, Manda. +I’ll make you sand-tarts and lemon pie and everything +you like every time you come home still.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Millie, you good soul! With +that promise to help me I’ll work like a Trojan +and win some honors at old M.S.N.S. Just watch me!”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda did work. She brought to her +studies the same whole-hearted interest and enthusiasm +she evinced in her hunts for wild flowers, she applied +to them the same dogged determination and untiring +efforts she showed in her long search for hidden bird +nests, with the inevitable result that her brain, +naturally alert and brilliant, grasped with amazing +celerity both the easy and the hard lessons of the +Normal Training course.</p> + +<p align="left">Millie’s prediction proved well +founded--Amanda Reist stood well in her classes. In +botany she was the preeminent figure of the entire +school. “Ask Amanda Reist, she’ll tell +you,” became the slogan among the students. +“Yellow violets, lady-slippers, wild ginger--she’ll +tell you where they grow or get a specimen for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">When the time for graduation drew +near Amanda was able to carry home the glad news that +she ranked third in her class and was chosen to deliver +an oration at the Commencement exercises.</p> + +<p align="left">“That I want to hear,” +declared Millie, “and I’ll get a new dress +to wear to it, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">On the June morning when the Commencement +exercises of the First Pennsylvania State Normal School +took place there were hundreds of happy, eager visitors +on the campus at Millersville, and later in the great +auditorium, but none was happier than Millie Hess, +Reists’ hired girl. The new dress, bought in +Lancaster and made by Mrs. Reist and Aunt Rebecca, +was a white lawn flecked with black. Millie had decided +on a plain waist with high neck, the inch wide band +at the throat edged with torchon lace, after the style +she usually wore, the skirt made full and having above +the hem, as Millie put it, “Just a few tucks, +then wait a while, then tucks again.” But Amanda, +happening on the scene as the dress was tried on, +protested at the high neck.</p> + +<p align="left">“Please, Millie,” she +coaxed, “do have the neck turned down, oh, just +a little! I’d have a nice pleated ruffle of +white net around it and a little V in front. You’d +look fine that way.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Me-fine! Go long with you, +Amanda Reist! Ain’t I got two good eyes and +a lookin’-glass? But I guess I would look more +like other folks if I had it made like you say. But +now I don’t want it too low. You dare fix it +so it looks right.” Displaying the same meek +acquiescence in the desire of Amanda she bought a +stylish hat instead of the big flat sailor with its +taffeta bow she generally chose. The hat was Amanda’s +selection, a small, modest little thing with pale pink +and gray roses misty with a covering of black tulle.</p> + +<p align="left">“Me with pink roses on my hat +and over forty years old,” said Millie wonderingly, +but when she tried it on and saw the improvement in +her appearance she smiled happily. “It’s +the prettiest hat I ever had and I’ll hold it +up and take good care of it so it’ll last me +years. I’m gettin’ fixed up for sure once, +only my new shoes don’t have no squeak in ’em +at all.”</p> + +<p>“That’s out of style,” Amanda informed +her kindly.</p> + +<p align="left">“It is? Why, when I was little +I remember hearin’ folks tell how when they +bought new shoes they always asked for a ‘fib’s +worth of squeak’ in ’em.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And now they pay the shoemaker +more than a ‘fib’ to put a few pegs in +the shoes and take the squeak out.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, well, how things get +different! But then I’m glad mine don’t +make no noise if that’s the way now.”</p> + +<p align="left">Commencement day Millie could have +held her own with any well-dressed city woman. Her +plain face was almost beautiful as she stood ready +for the great event of Amanda’s life. At the +last moment she thought of the big bush of shrubs +in the yard--"I must get me a shrub to smell in the +Commencement,” she decided. So she gathered one +of the queer-looking, fragrant brown blossoms, tied +it in the corner of her handkerchief and bruised it +gently so that the sweet perfume might be exuded. “Um-ah,” +she breathed in the odor, “now I’m ready +for Millersville.”</p> + +<p align="left">As she stood with Mrs. Reist and Philip +on the front porch waiting for Uncle Amos she said +to Mrs. Reist, “Ain’t Amanda fixed me up +fine? Abody’d hardly know me.”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist in her plain gray Mennonite +dress and stiff black silk bonnet was, as usual, an +attractive figure. Philip, grown to the dignity of +long trousers, carried himself with all the poise of +seventeen. He was now a student in the Lancaster High +School and had he not learned to dress and act like +city boys do! Uncle Amos, in his best Sunday suit +of gray, his Mennonite hat in his hand, ambled along +last as the little group went down the aisle of the +Millersville chapel to see Amanda’s graduation.</p> + +<p align="left">As Amanda marched in, her red hair +parted on the side and coiled into a womanly coiffure, +wearing a simple white organdie, she was just one of +the hundred graduates who marched into the chapel. +But later, as she stood alone on the platform and +delivered her oration, “The Flowers of the Garden +Spot,” she held the interested attention of all +in that vast audience. She knew her subject and succeeded +in waking in the hearts of her hearers a desire to +go out in the green fields and quiet woods and find +the lovely habitants of the flower world.</p> + +<p align="left">After it was all over and she stood, +shining-eyed and happy, among her own people in the +chapel, Martin Landis joined them. He, too, had left +childhood behind. The serious gravity of his new estate +was deepened in his face, but the same tenderness +that had soothed the numerous Landis babies also still +dwelt there. One of the regrets of his heart was the +fact that nature had denied him great stature. He had +always dreamed of growing into a tall man, powerful +in physique, like Lyman Mertzheimer. But nature was +obstinate and Martin Landis reached manhood, a strong, +sturdy being, but of medium height. His mother tried +to assuage his disappointment by asserting that even +if his stature was not great as he wished his heart +was big enough to make up for it. He tried to live +up to her valuation of him, but it was scant comfort +as he stood in the presence of physically big men. +Life had not dealt generously with him as with Amanda +in the matter of education. He wanted a chance to study +at some institution higher than the little school at +Crow Hill but his father needed him on the farm. The +elder man was subject to attacks of rheumatism and +at such times the brunt of farm labor fell upon the +shoulders of Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">Money was scarce in the Landis household, +there were so many mouths to feed and it seemed to +Martin that he would never have the opportunity to +do anything but work in the fields from early spring +to late autumn, snatch a few months for study in a +business college in Lancaster, then go back again +to the ploughing and arduous duties of his father’s +farm. He thought enviously of Lyman Mertzheimer, whose +father had sent him to a well-known preparatory school +and then started him in a full course in one of the +leading universities of the country. If he had a chance +like that! If he could only get away from the farm +long enough to earn some money he knew he could work +his way through school and fit himself for some position +he would like better than farming. Some such thoughts +ran through his brain as he went to congratulate Amanda +on her graduation day.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Martin!” she greeted +him cordially. “So you got here, after all. +I’m so glad!”</p> + +<p align="left">“So am I. I wouldn’t have +missed that oration for a great deal. I could smell +the arbutus--say, it was great, Amanda!”</p> + +<p>At that moment Lyman Mertzheimer joined them.</p> + +<p align="left">“Congratulations, Amanda,” +he said in his affected manner. As the good-looking +son of a wealthy man he credited himself with the possession +of permissible pride. “Congratulations,” +he repeated, ignoring the smaller man who stood by +the side of the girl. “Your oration was beautifully +rendered. You were very eloquent, but if you will pardon +me, I’d like to remind you of one flower you +forgot to mention--a very important flower of the +Garden Spot.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I did?” she said as though +it were a negligible matter. “What was the flower +I forgot?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda Reist,” he said, +and laughed at his supposed cleverness.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” she replied, vexed +at his words and his bold attitude, “I left +that out purposely along with some of the weeds of +the Garden Spot I might have mentioned.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Meaning me?” He lifted +his eyebrows in question. “You don’t really +mean that, Amanda.” He spoke in winning voice. +“I know you don’t mean that so I won’t +quarrel with you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I guess you better not!” +spoke up Millie who had listened to all that was said. +“You don’t have to get our Amanda cross +on this here day. She done fine in that speech and +we’re proud of her and don’t want you +nor no one else to go spoil it by any fuss.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I see you have more than one +champion, Amanda. I’ll have to be very careful +how I speak to you.” He laughed but a glare of +anger shone in his eyes.</p> + +<p align="left">A few moments later the little party +broke up and Lyman went off alone. A storm raged within +him--"A hired girl to speak to me like that--a common +hired girl! I’ll teach her her place when I marry +Amanda. And Amanda was high and mighty to-day. Thought +she owned the world because she graduated from Millersville! +As though that’s anything! She’s the kind +needs a strong hand, a master hand. And I’ll +be the master! I like her kind, the women who have +spirit and fire. But she needs to be held under, subjected +by a stronger spirit. That little runt of a Martin +Landis was hanging round her, too. He has no show when +I’m in the running. He’s poor and has +no education. He’s just a clodhopper.”</p> + +<p align="left">Meanwhile the clodhopper had also +said good-bye to Amanda. For some reason he did not +stop to analyze, the heart of Martin Landis was light +as he went home from the Commencement at Millersville. +He had always detested Lyman Mertzheimer, for he had +felt too often the snubs and taunts of the rich boy. +Amanda’s rebuff of the arrogant youth pleased +Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">“I like Amanda,” he thought +frankly, but he never went beyond that in the analysis +of his feelings for the comrade of his childhood and +young boyhood. “I like her and I’d hate +to see her waste her time on a fellow like Lyman Mertzheimer. +I’m glad she squelched him. Perhaps some day +he’ll find there are still some desirable things +that money can’t buy.”</p> + +<a name="ch7"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER VII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Amanada Reist, Teacher</h2> + +<p align="left">Amanda had no desire to teach far +from her home. “I want to see the whole United +States if I live long enough,” she declared, +“but I want to travel through the distant parts +of it, not settle there to live. While I have a home +I want to stay near it. So I wish I could get a school +in Lancaster County.”</p> + +<p align="left">Her wish was granted. There was an +opening in Crow Hill, in the little rural school in +which she had received the rudiments of her education. +Amanda applied for the position and was elected.</p> + +<p align="left">She brought to that little school +several innovations. Her love and knowledge of nature +helped her to make the common studies less monotonous +and more interesting. A Saturday afternoon nutting +party with her pupils afforded a more promising subject +for Monday’s original composition than the hackneyed +suggestions of the grammar book’s “Tell +all you know about the cultivation of coffee.” +Later, snow forts in the school-yard impressed the +children with the story of Ticonderoga more indelibly +than mere reading about it could have done. During +her last year at Normal, Amanda had read about a school +where geography was taught by the construction of +miniature islands, capes, straits, peninsulas, and +so forth, in the school-yard. She directed the older +children in the formation of such a landscape picture. +When a blundering boy slipped and with one bare foot +demolished at one stroke the cape, island and bay, +there was much merriment and rivalry for the honor +of rebuilding. The children were almost unanimous in +their affection for the new teacher and approval of +her methods of teaching. Most of them ran home with +eager tales concerning the wonderful, funny, “nice” +ways Miss Reist had of teaching school.</p> + +<p align="left">However, Crow Hill is no Eden. Some +of the older boys laughed at the “silly ideas” +of “that Manda Reist” and disliked the +way she taught geography and made the pupils “play +in the dirt and build capes and islands and the whole +blamed geography business right in the school-yard.”</p> + +<p align="left">It naturally followed that adverse +criticism grew and grew, like Longfellow’s pumpkin, +and many curious visitors came to Crow Hill school. +The patrons, taxpayers, directors were concerned and +considered it their duty to drop in and observe how +things were being run in that school. They found that +the three R’s were still taught efficiently, +even if they were taught with the aid of chestnuts, +autumn leaves and flowers; they were glad to discover +that an island, though formed in the school-yard from +dirt and water, was still being defined with the old +standard definition, “An island is a body of +land entirely surrounded by water.”</p> + +<p align="left">If any other school had graduated +Amanda, her position might have been a trifle precarious, +but Millersville Normal School was too well known +and universally approved in Lancaster County to admit +of any questionable suggestions about its recent graduate. +Most of the people who came to inspect came without +any antagonistic feeling and they left convinced that, +although some of Amanda Reist’s ways were a little +different, the scholars seemed to know their lessons +and to progress satisfactorily.</p> + +<p align="left">Later in the school year she urged +the children to bring dried corn husk to school, she +brought brightly colored raffia, and taught them how +to make baskets. The children were clamorous for more +knowledge of basket making. The fascinating task of +forming objects of beauty and usefulness from homely +corn husk and a few gay threads of raffia was novel +to them. Amanda was willing to help the children along +the path of manual dexterity and eager to have them +see and love the beautiful. Under her guidance they +gathered and pressed weeds and grasses and the airy, +elusive milkweed down, caught butterflies, and assembled +the whole under glass, thus making beautiful trays +and pictures.</p> + +<p align="left">On the whole it was a wonderful, happy +year for the new teacher of the Crow Hill school. +When spring came with all the alluring witchery of +the Garden Spot it seemed to her she must make every +one of her pupils feel the thrill of the song-sparrow’s +first note and the matchless loveliness of the anemone.</p> + +<p align="left">One day in early April, the last week +of school, as she locked the door of the schoolhouse +and started down the road to her home an unusual glow +of satisfaction beamed on her face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Only two more days of school, +then the big Spelling Bee to wind it up and then my +first year’s teaching will be over! I have enjoyed +it but I’m like the children--eager for vacation.”</p> + +<p align="left">She hummed gaily as she went along, +this nineteen-year-old school teacher so near the +end of her first year’s work in the schoolroom. +Her eyes roved over the fair panorama of Lancaster +County in early spring dress. As she neared the house +she saw her Uncle Amos resting under a giant sycamore +tree that stood in the front yard.</p> + +<p>“Good times,” she called to him.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Manda,” he answered. “You’re +home early.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Early--it’s half-past +four. Have you been asleep and lost track of the time?”</p> + +<p align="left">He took a big silver watch from a +pocket and whistled as he looked at it. “Whew! +It is that late! Time for me to get to work again. +Your Aunt Rebecca’s here.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Dear me! And I felt so happy! +Now I’ll get a call-down about something or +other. I’m ashamed of myself, Uncle Amos, but +I think Aunt Rebecca gets worse as she grows older.”</p> + +<p align="left">“’Fraid so,” the +man agreed soberly. “Well, we can’t all +be alike. Too bad, now, she don’t take after +me, eh, Amanda?”</p> + +<p>“It surely is! You’re the nicest man I +know!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Hold on now,” he said; +“next you make me blush. I ain’t used to +gettin’ compliments.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But I mean it. I don’t +see how she can be your sister and Mother’s! +I think the fairies must have mixed babies when she +was little. I can see many good qualities in her, +but there’s no need of her being so contrary +and critical. I remember how I used to be half afraid +of her when I was little. She tried to make Mother +dress me in a plain dress and a Mennonite bonnet, +but Mother said she’d dress me like a little +girl and if I chose I could wear the plain dress and +bonnet when I was old enough to know what it means. +Oh, Mother’s wonderful! If I had Aunt Rebecca +for a mother--but perhaps she’d be different +then. Oh, Uncle Amos, do you remember the howl she +raised when we had our house wired for electricity?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Glory, yes! She was scared +to death to come here for a while.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And Phil wickedly suggested +we scare her again! But she was afraid of it. She +was sure the house would be struck by lightning the +first thunder-storm we’d have. And when we put +the bath tub into the house-- whew! Didn’t she +give us lectures then! She has no use for ‘swimmin’ +tubs’ to this day. If folks can’t wash +clean out of a basin they must be powerful dirty! +That’s her opinion.”</p> + +<p align="left">Both laughed at the remembrance of +the old woman’s words. Then the girl asked, +“What did she have to say to you to-day? Did +she iron any wrinkles out of you?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I got it a’ready.” +The man chuckled. “I was plantin’ potatoes +till my back was near broke and I came in to rest +a little and get a drink. She told me it’s funny +people got to rest so often in these days when they +do a little work. She worked in the fields often and +she could stand more yet than a lot o’ lazy +men. I didn’t answer her but I came out here +and got my rest just the same. She ain’t bossin’ +her brother Amos yet! But now I got to work faster +for this doin’ nothin’ under the tree.”</p> + +<p align="left">When Amanda entered the kitchen she +found her mother and the visitor cutting carpet rags. +Old clothes were falling under the snip of the shears +into a peach basket, ready to be sewn together, wound +into balls and woven into rag carpet by the local +carpet weaver on his hand loom.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello,” said the girl +as she laid a few books on the kitchen table.</p> + +<p align="left">“Books again,” sniffed +Aunt Rebecca. “I wonder now how much money gets +spent for books that ain’t necessary.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, lots of it,” answered the girl cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“Umph, did you buy those?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, when I went to Millersville.”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, what a lot o’ +money goes for such things these days! There’s +books about everything, somebody told me. There’s +even some wrote about the Pennsylvania Dutch and about +that there Stiegel glass some folks make such a fuss +about. I don’t see nothin’ in that Stiegel +glass to make it so dear. Why, I had a little white +glass pitcher, crooked it was, too, and nothin’ +extra to look at. But along come one of them anteak +men, so they call themselves, the men that buy up old +things. Anyhow, he offered to give me a dollar for +that little pitcher. Ach, I didn’t care much +for it, though it was Jonas’s granny’s +still. I sold it to that man quick before he’d +change his mind and mebbe only give me fifty cents.”</p> + +<p>“You sold it?” asked Amanda. “And +was it this shape?”</p> + +<p>She made a swift, crude sketch of the well-known Stiegel +pitcher shape.</p> + +<p>“My goodness, you drawed one just like it! It +looked like that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then, Aunt Rebecca, you gave +that man a bargain. That was a real Stiegel pitcher +and worth much more than a dollar!”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, what did I do +now! You mean it was worth <i>more</i> than that?” +The woman was incredulous.</p> + +<p align="left">“You might have gotten five, +perhaps ten, dollars for it in the city. You know +Stiegel glass was some of the first to be made in this +country, made in Manheim, Pennsylvania, way back in +1760, or some such early date as that. It was crude +as to shape, almost all the pieces are a little crooked, +but it was wonderfully made in some ways, for it has +a ring like a bell, and the loveliest fluting, and +some of it is in beautiful blue, green and amethyst. +Stiegel glass is rare and valuable so if you have +any more hold on to it and I’ll buy it from you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I guess! I wouldn’t +leave you pay five dollars for a glass pitcher! But +I wish I had that one back. It spites me now I sold +it. My goodness, abody can’t watch out enough +so you won’t get cheated. Where did you learn +so much about that old glass?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I read about it in a <i>book</i> +last year,” came the ready answer.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca looked at the girl, but +Amanda’s face bore so innocent an expression +that the woman could not think her guilty of emphasizing +the word purposely.</p> + +<p align="left">“So,” the visitor said, +“they did put something worth in a book once! +Well, I guess it’s time you learn something that’ll +help you save money. All the books you got to read! +And Philip’s still goin’ to school, too. +Why don’t he help Amos on the farm instead of +runnin’ to Lancaster to school?”</p> + +<p align="left">“He wants to be a lawyer,” +said Mrs. Reist. “I think still that as long +as he has a good head for learnin’ and wants +to go to school I should leave him go till he’s +satisfied. I think his pop would say so if he was +livin’. Not everybody takes to farmin’ +and it is awful hard work. Amos works that hard.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Poof,” said Aunt Rebecca, +“I ain’t heard tell yet of any man workin’ +himself to death! It wouldn’t hurt Philip to +be a farmer. The trouble is it don’t sound tony +enough for the young ones these days. Lawyer-- what +does he want to be a lawyer for? I heard a’ready +that they are all liars. You’re by far too easy!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Aunt Rebecca,” said +Amanda, “not all lawyers are liars. Abraham +Lincoln was a lawyer.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I guess he was no different +from others, only he’s dead so abody shouldn’t +talk about him.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda sighed and turned to her mother. +“Mother, I’m going up to put on an old +dress and when Phil comes we’re going over to +the woods for arbutus.”</p> + +<p>“All right.”</p> + +<p align="left">But the aunt did not consider it all +right. “Why don’t you help cut carpet +rags?” she asked. “That would be more sense +than runnin’ out after flowers that wither right +aways.”</p> + +<p align="left">“If we find any, Millie is going +to take them to market to-morrow and sell them. Some +people asked for them last week. It’s rather +early but we may find some on the sunny side of the +woods.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” the woman was mollified, +“if you’re goin’ to sell ’em +that’s different. Ain’t it funny anybody +<i>buys</i> flowers? But then some people don’t +know how to spend their money and will buy anything, +just so it’s buyin’!”</p> + +<p align="left">But Amanda was off to the wide stairs, +beyond the sound of the haranguing voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Glory!” she said to herself +when she reached her room. “If my red hair didn’t +bristle! What a life we’d have if Mother were +like that! If I ever think I have nothing to be thankful +for I’m going to remember that!”</p> + +<p align="left">A little while later she went down +the stairs, out through the yard and down the country +road to meet her brother. She listened for his whistle. +In childhood he had begun the habit of whistling a +strain from the old song, “Soldier’s Farewell” +and, like many habits of early years, it had clung +to him. So when Amanda heard the plaintive melody, +“How can I leave thee, how can I from thee part,” +she knew that her brother was either arriving or leaving.</p> + +<p align="left">As she walked down the road in the +April sunshine the old whistle floated to her. She +hastened her steps and in a bend in the road came +face to face with the boy.</p> + +<p align="left">At sight of her he stopped whistling, +whipped off his cap and greeted her, “Hello, +Sis. I thought that would bring you if you were about. +Oh, don’t look so tickled over my politeness--I +just took off my hat because I’m hot. This walk +from the trolley on a day like this warms you up.”</p> + +<p align="left">His words brought a light push from +the girl as she took her place beside him and they +walked on.</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s a mournful whistle +for a home-coming,” Amanda told him. “Can’t +you find a more appropriate one?”</p> + +<p align="left">“My repertoire is limited, sister--I +learned that big word in English class to-day and +had to try it out on some one.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Phil, you’re crazy!” +was the uncomplimentary answer, but her eyes smiled +with pride upon the tall, red-haired boy beside her. +“I see it’s one of your giddy days so +I’ll sober you up a bit--Aunt Rebecca’s +at the house.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yea!” He held his side in mock agony.</p> + +<p>“Again? What’s the row now? Any curtain +lectures?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Be comforted, Phil. She’s +going home to-night if you’ll drive her to Landisville.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Won’t I though!” +he said, with the average High School boy’s disregard +of pure English. “Surest thing you know, Sis, +I’ll drive her home or anywhere else. What’s +she doing?”</p> + +<p>“Helping Mother cut carpet rags.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, that’s the only +redeeming feature about her. She does help Mother. +Aunt Rebecca isn’t lazy. I’m glad to be +able to say one nice thing about her. Apart from that +she’s generally as Millie says, ‘actin’ +like she ate wasps.’ But she can’t scare +me. All her ranting goes in one ear and out the other.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing there to stop it, eh, Phil?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda! That from you! Now +I know how Caesar felt when he saw Brutus with the +mob.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s a case of ‘Cheer +up, the worst is yet to come,’ I suppose, so +you might as well smile.”</p> + +<p align="left">In this manner they bantered until +they reached the Reist farmhouse. There the boy greeted +the visitor politely, as his sister had done.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” was the +aunt’s greeting to him, “you got an armful +of books, too!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. I’m going to be +a lawyer, but I have to do a lot of hard studying +before I get that far.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Umph, that’s nothin’ +to brag about. I’d think more of you if you +stayed home and helped Amos plant corn and potatoes +or tobacco.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d never plant tobacco. +Chewing and smoking are filthy habits and I’d +never have the stuff grow on any farm I owned.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But the money, Philip, just +think once of the money tobacco brings! But, ach, +it’s for no use talkin’ farm to you. You +got nothin’ but books in your head. How do you +suppose this place is goin’ to be run about +ten years from now if Amanda teaches and you turn lawyer? +Amos is soon too old to work it and you can’t +depend on hired help. Then what?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Search me,” said the +boy inelegantly. “But I’m not worrying +about it. We may not want to live here ten years from +now. But, Mother,” he veered suddenly, “got +any pie left from dinner? I’m hungry. May I +forage?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Help yourself, Philip. There’s +a piece of cherry pie and a slice of chocolate cake +in the cellar.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Hurray, Mother! I’m going +to see that you get an extra star in your crown some +day for feeding the hungry.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But you spoil him,” said +Aunt Rebecca as Phil went off to the cellar. “And +if that boy ain’t always after pie! I mind how +he used to eat pie when he was little and you brought +him to see us. Not that I grudged him the pie, but +I remember how he always took two pieces if he got +it. And pie ain’t good for him, neither, between +meals.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I guess it won’t hurt +him,” said Mrs. Reist; “the boy’s +growin’ and he has just a lunch at noon, so +he gets hungry till he walks in from the trolley. +Boys like pie. His father was a great hand for pie.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” said the aunt +decisively, “I would never spoiled children if +I had any. But I had none.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Thank goodness!” Amanda +breathed to herself as she went out to the porch to +wait for her brother.</p> + +<p align="left">“Um, that pie was good,” +was his verdict as he joined her. “But say, +Sis, didn’t you hear the squirrels chatter in +there?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Come on.” Amanda laughed +as she swung the basket to her arm and pulled eagerly +at the sleeve of the boy’s coat. “Let’s +go after the flowers and forget all about her.”</p> + +<p align="left">Along the Crow Hill schoolhouse runs +a long spur of wooded hills skirting the country road +for a quarter of a mile and stretching away into denser +timberland. In those woods were the familiar paths +Amanda and Phil loved to traverse in search of flowers. +In April, when the first warm, sunshiny days came, +the ground under the dead leaves of the overshadowing +oaks was carpeted with arbutus. Eager children soon +found those near the crude rail fence, but Amanda +and Phil followed the narrow trails to the secluded +sheltered spots where the May flowers had not been +touched that spring.</p> + +<p align="left">“No roots, Phil!” warned +the girl as they knelt in the brown leaves and pushed +away the covering from the fragrant blossoms.</p> + +<p align="left">“Sure thing not, Sis! We don’t +want to exterminate the trailing arbutus in Crow Hill. +Say, I passed two kids this morning as I was going +to the trolley. They had a bunch of arbutus, roots +and all. Believe me, I acted up like Aunt Rebecca +for about two minutes. But it’s a shame to take +the roots. I almost hate to pick the flowers--seems +as if they’re at home here in the woods--belong +here, in a way.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I know what you’re thinking +about, Phil; that little verse:</p> + +<p>  ’Hast thou named all the birds without +a gun?<br> +  Loved the wood-rose and left it on its +stalk?<br> +  Oh, be my friend, and teach me to be thine.’</p> + +<p align="left">I agree with the first half of the +requirement, but the latter half can’t always +be followed. At any rate, the wild rose is better left +on the stem, for it withers when plucked. But with +arbutus it’s different. Why, Phil, some of the +people who come to market and buy our wild flowers +would never see any if they could not buy them in the +city. Imagine, if you can, yourself living in a big +city, far away from Crow Hill, where the Mayflowers +grow--Philadelphia or New York, or some such formidable-sounding +place. The city might engross your attention so you’d +be happy for months. But along comes spring with its +call to the woods and meadows. Still the city and +its demands grip you like a vise, and you can’t +run away to where the wild green things are pushing +to the light. Suppose you saw a flower-stand and a +tiny bunch of arbutus--”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d pay my last dollar +for them!” declared Philip. “Guess you’re +right. According to your reasoning, we’re as +good as missionaries when we find wild flowers and +take or send them to the city market to sell. Aunt +Rebecca wouldn’t see that. She’d see the +money end of it. Poor soul! I’m glad I’m +not like her.”</p> + +<p>“Pharisee,” chided his sister.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, do you know, Manda, sometimes +I think there’s something to be said in favor +of the Pharisee.”</p> + +<p>The girl gave him a quizzical look.</p> + +<p align="left">The serious and the light were so +strangely mingled in the boy’s nature. Amanda +caught many glimpses into the recesses of his heart, +recesses he knew she would not try to explore deeper +than he wished. For the natures of brother and sister +were strongly similar--light-hearted and happy, laughing +and gay, keen to enjoy life, but reading some part +of its mysteries, understanding some of its sorrows +and showing at times evidences of searching thought +and grave retrospect.</p> + +<p align="left">“How many dollars’ worth +do we have?” the boy asked in imitation of Aunt +Rebecca’s mercenary way.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Phil! You’re dreadful! +But I bet the flowers will be gone in no time when +Millie puts them out.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d wager they’d +go faster if you sold them,” he replied, looking +admiringly at the girl. “You’d be a pretty +fair peddler of flowers, Sis.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Phil, be sensible.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I mean it, Amanda. You’re +not so bad looking. Your hair isn’t common red, +it’s Titian. And it’s fluffy. Then your +eyes are good and your complexion lacks the freckles +you ought to have. Your nose isn’t Grecian, +but it’ll do--we’ll call it retroussé, +for that sounds nicer than pug. And your mouth--well, +it’s not exactly a rosebud one, but it doesn’t +mar the general landscape like some mouths do. Altogether, +you’re real good-looking, even if you are my +sister.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Philip Reist, you’re +impertinent! But I suppose you are truthful. That’s +a doubtful compliment you’re giving me, but I’m +glad to say your veracity augurs well for your success +as a lawyer. If you are always as honest as in that +little speech you just delivered, you’ll do.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I’ll make grand old +Abe Lincoln look to his laurels.”</p> + +<p align="left">And so, with comradely teasing, threaded +with a more serious vein, an hour passed and the two +returned home with their baskets filled with the lovely +pink and white, delicately fragrant, trailing arbutus.</p> + +<p align="left">They found the supper ready, Uncle +Amos washed and combed, and waiting on the back porch +for the summons to the meal.</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist peeped into the basket +and exclaimed in joy as she breathed in the sweet +perfume of the fresh flowers. Millie paused in the +act of pouring coffee into big blue cups to “get +a sniff of the smell,” but Aunt Rebecca was +impatient at the momentary delay. “My goodness, +but you poke around. I like to get the supper out +before it gets cold.”</p> + +<p align="left">There was no perceptible hurry at +her words, but a few minutes later all were seated +about the big table in the kitchen with a hearty supper +spread before them.</p> + +<p align="left">Uncle Amos was of a jovial, teasing +disposition, prone to occasional shrewd thrusts at +the idiosyncrasies of his acquaintances, but he held +sacred things sacred and rendered to reverent things +their due reverence. It was his acknowledged privilege +to say grace, at the meals served in the Reist home.</p> + +<p align="left">That April evening, after he said, +“Amen,” Philip turned to Amanda and said, +“Polly wants some too.”</p> + +<p align="left">The girl burst into gay laughter. +Everybody at the table looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>“What’s funny?” asked Aunt Rebecca.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll tell you,” +Phil offered. “Last Saturday we were back at +Harnly’s. They have two parrots on the porch, +and all morning we tried to get those birds to talk. +They just sat and blinked at us, looked wise, but +said not a word. I forgot all about them when we went +in to dinner, but we had just sat down and bowed our +heads for grace when those birds began to talk. They +went at it as though some person had wound them up. +‘Polly wants some dinner; Polly wants some, too. +Give Polly some too.’ Well, it struck me funny. +Their voices were so shrill and it was such a surprise +after they refused to say a word, that I got to laughing. +I gave Amanda a nudge, and she got the giggles.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It was awful,” said Amanda. +“If Phil hadn’t nudged me I could have +weathered through by biting my lips.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t see anything +to laugh about when two parrots talk,” was Aunt +Rebecca’s remark. “Anyhow, that was no +time to laugh. I guess you’ll remember what +I tell you, some day when you got to cry for all this +laughin’ you do now.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” said the mother, +“let ’em laugh. I guess we were that way +too once.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Bully for you, Mother,” +cried the boy; “you’re as young as any +of us.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what,” chimed in Millie.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, say, Millie,” asked +Philip, “did you make that cherry pie I finished +up after school to-day?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Was it good?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good? It melted in my mouth. +When I marry, Millie, I’m going to borrow you +for a while to come teach my wife how to make such +pies.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Listen at him now! Ain’t +it a wonder he wouldn’t think to get a wife +that knows how to cook and bake? But, Philip Reist, +you needn’t think I’ll ever leave your +mom unless she sends me off.”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t you, now, Millie?” asked +Uncle Amos.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, be sure, not! I ain’t +forgettin’ how nice she was to me a’ready. +I had hard enough to make through before I came here +to work. I had a place to live out in Readin’ +where I was to get big money, but when I got there +I found I was to go in the back way always, even on +Sunday, and was to eat alone in the kitchen after +they eat, and I was to go to my room and not set with +the folks at all. I just wouldn’t live like +that, so I come back to Lancaster County and heard +about you people wantin’ a girl, and here I +am.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda looked at the hired girl. In +her calico dress and gingham apron, her hair combed +back plain from her homely face, she was certainly +not beautiful, and yet the girl who looked at her +thought she appeared really attractive as the gratitude +of her loyal heart shone on her countenance.</p> + +<p align="left">“Millie’s a jewel,” +thought Amanda. “And Mother’s another. +I hope I shall be like them as I grow older.”</p> + +<p align="left">After the supper dishes were washed, +Aunt Rebecca decided it was time for her to go home.</p> + +<p align="left">“Wouldn’t you like to +go in the automobile this time?” suggested Philip. +“It would go so much faster and is easier riding +than the carriage.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Faster! Well, I guess that +horse of yourn can get me anywhere I want to go fast +enough to suit me. I got no time for all these new-fangled +things, like wagons that run without horses, and lights +you put on and off with a button. It goes good if +you don’t get killed yet with that automobile.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I’ll hitch up Bill,” +said the boy as he went out, an amused smile on his +face.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda was thoughtful as she bunched +the arbutus for the market next day. “I wonder +how Uncle Jonas could live with Aunt Rebecca,” +she questioned. Ah, that was an enlightening test. +“Am I an easy, pleasant person to live with?” +Making full allowance for differences in temperament +and dispositions, there was still, the girl thought, +a possible compatibility that could be cultivated +so that family life might be harmonious and happy.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s that I am going +to consider when I get married, if I ever do,” +she decided that day. “I won’t marry a +man who would ‘jaw’ like Aunt Rebecca. +I’m fiery-tempered myself, and I’ll have +to learn to control my anger better. Goodness knows +I’ve had enough striking examples of how scolding +sounds! But I won’t want to squabble with the +man I really care for--Martin Landis, for instance--” +Her thoughts went off to her castles in Spain as she +gathered the arbutus into little bunches and tied +them. “He offered to help me fix my schoolroom +for the Spelling Bee on Saturday. He’s got a +big heart, my Sir Galahad of childhood.” She +smiled as she thought of her burned hand and his innocent +kiss. “Poor Martin--he’s working like +a man these ten years. I’d like to see him have +a chance at education like Lyman Mertzheimer has. I +know he’d accomplish something in the world +then! At any rate, Martin’s a gentleman and +Lyman’s a--ugh, I hate the very thought of him. +I’m glad he’s not at home to come to my +Spelling Bee.”</p> + +<a name="ch8"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER VIII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Spelling Bee</h2> + +<p align="left">The old-fashioned Spelling Bee has +never wholly died out in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. +Each year readers of certain small-town papers will +find numerous news-titles headed something like this: +“The Bees Will Buzz,” and under them an +urgent invitation to attend a Spelling Bee at a certain +rural schoolhouse. “A Good Time Promised"--"Classes +for All"--"Come One, Come All"--the advertisements +never fail. Many persons walk or ride to the little +schoolhouse. The narrow seats, the benches along the +wall, and all extra chairs that can be brought to the +place are taken long before the hour set for the bees +to buzz. The munificent charge is generally fifteen +cents, and where in this whole United States of America +can so much real enjoyment be secured for fifteen +cents as is given at an old-fashioned Spelling Bee?</p> + +<p align="left">That April evening of Amanda’s +Bee the Crow Hill schoolhouse was filled at an early +hour. The scholars, splendid in their Sunday clothes, +occupied front seats. Parents, friends and interested +visitors from near-by towns crowded into the room.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda, dressed in white, came upon +the platform and announced that the scholars had prepared +a simple program which would be interspersed through +the spelling classes.</p> + +<p align="left">Vehement clapping of hands greeted +her words and then the audience became silent as the +littlest scholar of the school rose and delivered +the address of welcome. There followed music and more +recitations, all amateurish, but they brought feelings +of pride to many mothers and fathers who listened, +smiling, to “Our John” or “Our Mary” +do his or her best.</p> + +<p align="left">But the real excitement began with +the spelling classes. The first was open to all children +under fourteen. At the invitation, boys and girls +walked bravely to the front and joined the line till +it reached from one side of the room to the opposite. +A teacher from a neighboring town gave out the words. +The weeding-out process soon began. Some fell down +on simple words, others handled difficult ones with +ease and spelled glibly through some which many of +the older people present had forgotten existed. Soon +the class narrowed down to two. Back and forth, back +and forth the words rolled until the teacher pronounced +one of the old standby catch-words. One of the contestants +shook his head, puzzled, and surrendered.</p> + +<p align="left">There was more music, several recitations +by the children, a spelling class for older people, +more music, then a General Information class, whose +participants were asked such questions as, “Who +is State Superintendent of Schools?” “How +many legs has a fly?” “How many teeth +has a cow?” “Which color is at the top +of the rainbow arch?” The amazed, puzzled expressions +on the faces of the questioned afforded much merriment +for the others. It was frequently necessary to wait +a moment until the laughter was suppressed before +other questions could be asked.</p> + +<p align="left">A geographical class was equally interesting. +“How many counties has Pennsylvania?” +sent five persons to their seats before it was answered +correctly. Others succeeded in locating such queer +names as Popocatepetl, Martinique, Ashtabula, Rhodesia, +Orkney, Comanche.</p> + +<p align="left">A little later the last spelling class +was held. It was open to everybody. The line was already +stretched across the schoolroom when Lyman Mertzheimer, +home for a few days of vacation, entered the schoolhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, dear,” thought Amanda, +“what does he want here? I’d rather do +without his fifteen cents! He expects to make a show +and win the prize from every one else.”</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman, indeed, swaggered down the +room and entered the line, bearing the old air of +superiority. “I’ll show them how to spell,” +he thought as he took his place. Spelling had been +his strong forte in the old days of school, and it +was soon evident that he retained his former ability. +The letters of the most confusing words fell from his +lips as though the very pages of the spelling-book +were engraved upon his brain. He held his place until +the contest had ruled out all but two beside himself. +Then he looked smilingly at Amanda and reared his head +in new dignity and determination.</p> + +<p align="left">“Stelliform, the shape of a +star,” submitted the teacher. The word fell +to Lyman. He was visibly hesitant. Was it stelli or +stella?</p> + +<p align="left">Bringing his knowledge of Latin into +service, he was inclined to think it was stella. He +began, “S-t-e-l-l--”</p> + +<p align="left">He looked uncertainly at one of his +friends who was seated in the front seat. He, also, +was a champion speller.</p> + +<p>“Oh, if Joe would only help me!” thought +the speller.</p> + +<p align="left">As if telepathy were possible, Joe +raised the forefinger of his left hand to his eye, +looked at Lyman with a meaning glance that told him +what he craved to know.</p> + +<p>“Iform,” finished Lyman in sure tones.</p> + +<p>“Correct.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That was clever of Joe,” +thought the cheat as the teacher gave out a word to +one of the three contestants. “I just caught +his sign in time. Nobody noticed it.”</p> + +<p align="left">But he reckoned without the observant +teacher of Crow Hill school. Amanda, seated in the +front of the room and placed so she half faced the +audience and with one little turn of her head could +view the spellers, had seen the cheating process and +understood its significance. The same trick had been +attempted by some of her pupils several times during +the monthly spelling tests she held for the training +of her classes.</p> + +<p align="left">“The cheat! The big cheat!” +she thought, her face flushing with anger. “How +I hope he falls down on the next word he gets!”</p> + +<p align="left">However, the punishment he deserved +was not meted out to him. Lyman Mertzheimer outspelled +his opponents and stood alone on the platform, a smiling +victor.</p> + +<p align="left">“The cheat! The contemptible +cheat!” hammered in Amanda’s brain.</p> + +<p align="left">After the distribution of prizes, +cheap reprint editions of well-known books, an auctioneer +stepped on the platform and drew from a corner a bushel +basket of packages of various sizes and shapes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oyez, Oyez,” he called +in true auctioneer style, “we have here a bushel +of good things, all to be sold, sight unseen, to the +highest bidder. I understand each package contains +something good to eat, packed and contributed by the +pupils of this school. The proceeds of the sale are +to be used to purchase good books for the school library +for the pupils to read. So, folks, bid lively and don’t +be afraid to run a little risk. You’ll get more +fun from the package you buy than you’ve had +for a long time, I’ll warrant.”</p> + +<p align="left">With much talk and gesticulation the +spirited bidding was kept up until every package was +sold. Shouts of joy came from the. country boys when +one opened a box filled with ten candy suckers and +distributed them among the crowd. Other bidders won +candy, cake, sandwiches, and loud was the laughter +when a shoe-box was sold for a dollar, opened and +found to contain a dozen raw sweet potatoes.</p> + +<p align="left">After the fun of the auction had died +down all rose and sang “The Star-Spangled Banner,” +and the Spelling Bee was over.</p> + +<p align="left">The audience soon began to leave. +Laughing girls and boys started down the dark country +roads. Carriages and automobiles carried many away +until a mere handful of people were left in the little +schoolhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman Mertzheimer lingered. He approached +Amanda, exchanged greetings with her and asked, “May +I walk home with you? I have something to tell you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I suppose so,” she +replied, not very graciously. The dishonest method +of gaining a prize still rankled in her. Lyman walked +about the room impatiently, looking idly at the drawings +and other work of the children displayed above the +blackboards.</p> + +<p align="left">A moment later Martin Landis came +up to Amanda. He had been setting chairs in their +places, gathering singing-books and putting the room +in order.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, Manda,” he said, +“it was a grand success! Everything went off +fine, lots of fun for all. And I heard Hershey, the +director, tell his wife that you certainly know how +to conduct a Spelling Bee.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, did he say that?” +The news pleased her. “But I’m glad it’s +over.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I guess you are. There, we’re +all fixed up now. I’ll send one of the boys +over next week with the team to take back the borrowed +chairs. I’ll walk home with you, Manda. What’s +Lyman Mertzheimer hanging around for? Soon as those +people by the door leave, we can lock up and go.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why--Martin--thank you--but +Lyman asked to walk home with me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh! All right,” came +the calm reply. “I’ll see you again. Good-night, +Amanda.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Martin.”</p> + +<p align="left">She looked after him as he walked +away, the plumed knight of her castles in Spain. She +had knighted him that day long ago when he had put +out the fire and kissed her hand, and during the interval +of years that childish affection had grown in her +heart. In her thoughts he was still “My Martin.” +But the object of that long-abiding affection showed +all too plainly that he was not cognizant of what was +in the heart of his childhood’s friend. To him +she was still “Just Amanda,” good comrade, +sincere friend.</p> + +<p align="left">Fortunately love and hope are inseparable. +Amanda thought frequently of the verse, “God +above is great to grant as mighty to make, and creates +the love to reward the love.” It was not always +so, she knew, but she hoped it would be so for her. +Martin Landis, unselfish, devoted to his people, honest +as a dollar, true as steel--dear Martin, how she wanted +to walk home with him that night of the Spelling Bee +instead of going with Lyman Mertzheimer!</p> + +<p align="left">The voice of the latter roused her +from her revery. “I say, Amanda, are we going +to stay here all night? Why in thunder can’t +those fools go home so you can lock the door and go! +And I say, Amanda, don’t you think Martin Landis +is letting himself grow shabby and seedy? He’s +certainly settling into a regular clodhopper. He shuffled +along like a hecker to-night. I don’t believe +he ever has his clothes pressed.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin’s tired to-night,” +she defended, her eyes flashing fire. “He worked +in the fields all day, helping his father. Then he +and one of his brothers took their team and went after +some chairs I wanted to borrow for the Spelling Bee. +They arranged the room for me, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I see. Poor fellow! It +must be the very devil to be poor!”</p> + +<p align="left">The words angered the girl. “Well,” +she flared out, “if you want to talk about Martin +Landis, you go home. I’ll get home without you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, Amanda,” he pleaded +sweetly, “don’t get huffy, please! I want +you in a good humor. I have something great to tell +you. Can’t you take a bit of joshing? Of course, +it’s fine in you to defend your old friends. +But I didn’t really mean to say anything mean +about Martin. You do get hot so easily.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It must be my red-hair-temper,” +she said, laughing. “I do fly off the handle, +as Phil says, far too soon.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Shall we go now?” Lyman +asked as the last lingering visitors left the room.</p> + +<p align="left">The lights were put out, the schoolhouse +door locked, and Amanda and Lyman started off on the +dark country road. Peals of merry laughter floated +back to them occasionally from a gay crowd of young +people who were also going home from the Spelling +Bee. But there were none near enough to hear what +most wonderful thing Lyman had to say to Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda,” he lost no time +in broaching the subject, “I said I have something +to tell you. I meant, to ask you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes? What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Will you marry me?”</p> + +<p align="left">Before the astonished girl could answer, +he put his arms about her and drew her near, as though +there could be no possibility of an unfavorable reply.</p> + +<p align="left">She flung away from him, indignant. +“Lyman,” she said, with hot anger in her +voice, “you better wait once till I say yes before +you try that!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, Amanda! Now, sweetheart, +none of that temper! You can’t get cross when +I ask you anything like that! I want to marry you. +I’ve always wanted it. I picked you for my sweetheart +when we were both children. I’ve always thought +you’re the dandiest girl I could find. Ever since +we were kids I’ve planned of the time when we +were old enough to marry. I just thought to-night, +when I saw several fellows looking at you as though +they’d like to have you, I better get busy and +ask you before some other chap turns your head. I’ll +be good to you and treat you right, Amanda. Of course, +I’m in college yet, but I’ll soon be through, +and then I expect to get a good position, probably +in some big city. We’ll get out of this slow +country section and live where there’s some +life and excitement. You know I’ll be rich some +day, and then you’ll have everything you want. +Come on, honey, tell me, are we engaged?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I should say not!” +the girl returned with cruel frankness. “You +talk as though I were a piece of furniture you could +just walk into a store and select and buy and then +own! You’ve been taking immeasurably much for +granted if you have been thinking all those things +you just spoke about.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But what don’t you like +about me?” The young man was unable to grasp +the fact that his loyal love could be unrequited. “I’m +decent.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, that’s very important, +but there’s more than that necessary when two +persons think of marrying. You asked me,--I’ll +tell you--I never cared for you. I don’t like +your principles, your way of sneering at poor people, +your laxity in many things--”</p> + +<p>“For instance?” he asked.</p> + +<p align="left">“For instance: the way you spelled +stelliform to-night and won a prize for it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, that!” He laughed +as though discovered in a huge joke. “Did you +see that? Why, that was nothing. It was only a cheap +book I got for the prize. I’ll give the book +back to you if that will square me in your eyes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But don’t you see, can’t +you see, it wasn’t the cheap book that mattered? +It’s the thought that you’d be dishonest, +a cheat.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” he snatched at +the least straw, “here’s your chance to +reform me. If you marry me I’ll be a different +person. I’d do anything for you. You know love +is a great miracle worker. Won’t you give me +a chance to show you how nearly I can live up to your +standards and ideals?”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda, moved by woman’s quick +compassion, spurred by sympathy, and feeling the exaltation +such an appeal always carries, felt her heart soften +toward the man beside her. But her innate wisdom and +her own strong hold on her emotions prevented her +from doing any rash or foolish thing. Her voice was +gentle as she answered, but there was a finality in +it that the man should have noted.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m sorry, Lyman, but +I can’t do as you say. We can’t will whom +we will love. I know you and I would never be happy +together.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But perhaps it will come to +you.” He was no easy loser. “I’ll +just keep on hoping that some day you’ll care +for me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t do that. I’m +positive, sure, that I’ll never love you. You +and I were never made for each other.”</p> + +<p align="left">But he refused to accept her answer +as final. “Who knows, Amanda,” he said +lightly, yet with all the feeling he was capable of +at that time, “perhaps you’ll love and +marry Lyman Mertzheimer yet! Stranger things than +that have happened. I’m sorry about that word. +It seemed just like a good joke to catch on to the +right spelling that way and beat the others in the +match. You are too strict, Amanda, too closely bound +by the Lancaster County ideas of right and wrong. +They are too narrow for these days.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” she said quickly. “Dishonesty +is never right!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” he laughed, “have +it your way! See how docile I have become already! +You’ll reform me yet, I bet!”</p> + +<p align="left">At the door of her home he bade her +good-night and went off whistling, feeling only a +slight unhappiness at her refusal to marry him. It +was, he felt, but a temporary rebuff. She would capitulate +some day. His consummate egotism buoyed his spirits +and he went down the road dreaming of the day he’d +marry Amanda Reist and of the wonderful gowns and +jewels he would lavish upon her.</p> + +<a name="ch9"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER IX</h1> + +<h2 align="center">At the Market</h2> + +<p align="left">The words of Lyman Mertzheimer lingered +with Amanda for many days. He had seemed so confident, +so arrogantly sure, of her ultimate surrender to his +desire to marry her. Soon after the Spelling Bee he +returned to his college and the girl sighed in relief +that his presence was not annoying her. But she reckoned +without the efficient United States mail service. +The rejected lover wrote lengthy, friendly letters +which she answered at long intervals by short, impersonal +little notes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, yea,” she said to +herself one day, “why does it have to be Lyman +Mertzheimer that falls in love with me? But he might +as well fall out as soon as he can. I’ll never +marry him. I read somewhere that one girl said, ’I’d +rather love what I cannot have, than have what I cannot +love,’ and that’s just the way I feel about +it. I won’t marry Lyman Mertzheimer if I have +to die Amanda Reist!”</p> + +<p align="left">As soon as her school term was ended +Amanda entered into the work of the farm. She helped +Millie as much as possible in a determined effort +to forget all about the man who wanted her and whom +she did not want, and, more than that, to think less +about her knight, her Sir Galahad, who evidently had +no time to waste on girls.</p> + +<p align="left">Millie appreciated Amanda’s +help. “There’s one thing sure,” she +said proudly to Mrs. Reist, “our Amanda ain’t +lazy. It seems to abody she’s workin’ +more’n ever this here spring. I guess mebbe she +thinks she better get all the ins and outs o’ +housework so as she can do it right till she gets +married once.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I guess Amanda ain’t +thinkin’ of marryin’ yet,” said the +mother.</p> + +<p align="left">“You fool yourself,” was +Millie’s wise answer. “Is there ever a +woman born that don’t think ’bout it? +Women ain’t made that way. There ain’t +one so ugly nor poor, nor dumb, that don’t hanker +about it sometimes, even if she knows it ain’t +for her.”</p> + +<p>Here the entrance of Amanda cut short the discussion.</p> + +<p>“Millie,” asked the girl, “shall +I go to market with you this week?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, yes. I’d be glad +for you. Of course, you always help get things ready +here and your Uncle Amos drives me in and helps to +get the baskets emptied and the things on the counters, +but I could use you in sellin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I’ll come. This +lovely spring weather makes me want to go. I like +to see the people come in to buy flowers and early +vegetables. It’s like reading a page out of +a romance to see the expressions on the faces of the +city people as they buy the products of the country.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I don’t know what +you mean. I guess you got too much fine learnin’ +for me. But all I can see in market is people runnin’ +up one aisle and down the other to see where the onions +or radishes is the cheapest.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda laughed. “That’s +part of the romance. It proves they are human.”</p> + +<p align="left">The following Saturday Amanda accompanied +Millie to the Lancaster market to help dispose of +the assortment of farm products the Reist stall always +carried.</p> + +<p align="left">Going to market in Lancaster is an +interesting experience. In addition to the famous +street markets, where farmers display their produce +along the busy central streets of the city, there +are indoor markets where crowds move up and down and +buy butter, eggs and vegetables, and such Pennsylvania +Dutch specialties as mince meat, cup cheese, sauerkraut, +pannhaus, apple butter, fresh sausage and smear cheese. +While lovers of flowers choose from the many old-fashioned +varieties--straw flowers, zinnias, dahlias.</p> + +<p align="left">The Reist stall was one of the prominent +stalls of the market. Twice every week Millie “tended +market” there. On the day before market several +members of the Reist household were kept busy preparing +all the produce, and the next day before dawn Uncle +Amos hitched the horse to the big covered wagon and +he and Millie, sometimes Amanda and Philip, drove +over the dark country roads to the city.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda enjoyed the work. She arranged +the glistening domes of cup cheese, placed the fresh +eggs in small baskets, uncovered one of the bags of +dried corn untied the cloth cover from a gray earthen +crock of apple butter, and then stood and looked about +the market house. She felt the human interest it never +failed to waken in her. Behind many stalls stood women +in the quaint garb of the Church of the Brethren or +Mennonite. But quaintest of all were the Amish.</p> + +<p align="left">The Amish are the plainest and quaintest +of the plain sects that flourish in Lancaster County. +Unlike their kindred sects, who wear plain garb, they +are partial to gay colors in dress. So it is no unusual +sight to see Amish women wearing dresses of such colors +as forest green, royal purple, king’s blue or +garnet. But the gay dress is always plainly made, +after the model of their sect, generally partially +subdued by a great black apron, a black pointed cape +over the shoulders and a big black bonnet which almost +hides the face of its wearer and necessitates a full-face +gaze to disclose the identity of the woman. The strings +of the thick white lawn cap are invariably tied in +a flat bow that lies low on the chest.</p> + +<p align="left">The Amish men are equally interesting +in appearance. They wear broad-brimmed hats with +low crowns. Their clothes are so extremely plain that +buttons, universally deemed indispensable, are taboo +and their place is filled by the inconspicuous hook-and-eye, +which style has brought upon them the sobriquet, “Hook-and-eye +people.”</p> + +<p align="left">However, interesting as the men and +women of the Amish faith are in their dress, they +are eclipsed in that aspect by the Amish children. +These are invariably dressed as exact replicas of their +parents. Little boys, mere children of three and four +years, wear long trousers, tight jackets, blocked +hair and broad-brimmed, low-crowned hats. Little girls +of tender years wear brightly colored woolen dresses, +one-piece aprons of black sateen or colored chambray, +and the picturesque big stiff bonnets of the faith.</p> + +<p align="left">A stranger in Lancaster County seeing +an Amish family group might easily wonder if he had +not been magically transported to some secluded spot +of Europe, far from the beaten paths of modernity. +But in the cosmopolitan population of Lancaster the +Amish awakes a mere moment’s interest to the +majority of observers. If a bit of envy steals into +the heart of the little Amish girl who stands at the +Square and sees a child in white organdie and pink +sash tripping along with her feet in silk socks and +white slippers, of what avail is it? The hold of family +customs is strong among them and the world and its +allurements and vanities are things to be left stringently +alone.</p> + +<p align="left">To Amanda Reist, the Amish children +made strong appeal. Their presence was one of the +reasons she enjoyed tending market. Many stories she +wove in her imagination about the little lads in their +long trousers and the tiny girls in their big bonnets.</p> + +<p align="left">But when the marketing was in full +swing Amanda had scant time for any weaving of imaginary +stories. Purchasers stopped at the stall and in a +short time the produce was sold, with the exception +of cheese and eggs which had been ordered the previous +week.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” complained Millie, +“now if these people would fetch this cheese +and the eggs we’d be done and could go home. +Our baskets are all empty but them. But it seems like +some of these here city folks can’t get to market +till eight o’clock. They have to sleep till seven.”</p> + +<p align="left">She was interrupted by the approach +of a young girl, fashionably dressed.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why,” exclaimed Amanda, +“here comes Isabel Souders, one of the Millersville +girls.”</p> + +<p align="left">Isabel Souders was a girl of the butterfly +type, made for sunshine, beauty, but not intended, +apparently, for much practical use. Like the butterfly, +her excuse for being was her beauty. Pretty, with dark +hair, Amanda sometimes had envied her during days +at the Normal School. Well dressed, petted and spoiled +by well-to-do parents who catered to her whims, she +seemed, nevertheless, an attractive girl in manner +as well as in appearance. At school something like +friendship had sprung up between Amanda and the city +girl, no doubt each attracted to the other by the +very directness of their opposite personalities and +tastes.</p> + +<p align="left">Isabel Souders was a year younger +than Amanda. She lacked all of the latter’s +ambition. Music and Art and having a good time were +the things that engrossed her attention. At Millersville +she had devoted her time to the pursuit of the three. +Professors and hall teachers knew that the moving +spirit of many harmless pranks was Isabel, but she +had a way of glossing things, shedding blame without +causing innocent ones to suffer, that somehow endeared +her to students and teachers alike.</p> + +<p align="left">That market day she came laughing +down the market aisle to greet Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello, Amanda! What do you +think of me, here at this early hour of the day? Pin +a medal on me! But it was so glorious a day I felt +like doing something out of the ordinary. I promised +one of the Lancaster girls who is at school now that +I’d ask you about the pink moccasins. Are they +out yet?”</p> + +<p>“Just out. Why?”</p> + +<p align="left">“This girl wants one for her +collection. I remembered you had a perfect one in +your lot of flowers at school and I said I’d +see you about them.”</p> + +<p>“They’ll be at their best next Saturday.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Next Saturday--dear, Helen’s +going home over the week-end. Oh, could I come out +and get one for her?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. I’ll be glad to +take you where they grow. I have a special haunt. +If no botanizers or flower hunters find my spot, we’ll +get a beauty for your friend.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You’re the same old darling, +Amanda,” said the girl sweetly. “Then +I’ll be out to your house Saturday afternoon. +How do I get there?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Take the car to Oyster Point, +then walk till you find a mail-box with our name on +it, and there I’ll be found.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Thank you, Amanda, you are +a dear! I’ll be there for the pink moccasin. +Won’t it be romantic to hunt for such lovely +things as they are? You’re perfectly sweet to +bother about it and offer to take me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I don’t mind doing +that. I’ll enjoy it. Finding the wild pink lady-slipper +is a real joy.”</p> + +<p align="left">Unselfish Amanda, she could not dream +of what would come out of that little hunt for the +pink moccasin!</p> + +<a name="ch10"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER X</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Pink Moccasins</h2> + +<p align="left">The pink moccasin, the largest of +our native orchids, is easily the queen of the rare +woodland spot in which it grows. Its flower of bright +rose pink, veined with red, is held with the stalwart +erectness of an Indian, whose love of solitude and +quiet woods it shares.</p> + +<p align="left">To Amanda it was one of the loveliest +flowers of the woods. She always counted the days +as the time drew near when the moccasins bloomed.</p> + +<p align="left">When Isabel Souders arrived at the +Reist farmhouse she found Amanda ready with basket +and trowel for the lady-slipper hunt. Amanda had put +on a simple white dress and green-and-white sun hat. +She looked with bewilderment at the city girl’s +attire, but said nothing just then. They stopped long +enough for Isabel to meet the mistress of the home +and then they went down the road to the Crow Hill schoolhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">Suddenly Isabel stood still and panted. +“Oh--Manda--you <i>can</i> run! Have compassion +on me. My hair will be all tumbled after such mad +walking, and my organdie torn.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Hair!” echoed the country +girl with a laugh. “Who thinks about hair on +a moccasin hunt? You should not go flower hunting in +city clothes. With your pink and white dress and lovely +Dresden sash, silk stockings and low shoes, you look +more fit for a dance than a ramble after deep woods +flowers, such as moccasins. But we might as well go +on now.”</p> + +<p align="left">She led the way across the school-yard, +climbed nimbly over the rail fence and laughed at +Isabel’s clumsy imitation of her. Pink azaleas +grew in great bushes of bloom throughout the woods. +Isabel would have stopped to pick some but Amanda +said, “That withers easily. Better pick them +when we come back.”</p> + +<p align="left">They followed a narrow path, so narrow +that later the summer luxuriant growth of underbrush +would almost obliterate it. But Amanda knew the way +to her spot. Deeper into the woods they delved, past +bowers of pink azalea and closely growing branches +of trees whose tender green foliage was breaking into +summer growth. The bright May sunshine dripped through +the green and dappled the ground in little discs of +gold.</p> + +<p align="left">Suddenly the path led up-hill in a +steep grade. Amanda stopped and leaned against a slender +sapling.</p> + +<p>“Stand here and look up,” she invited.</p> + +<p>Isabel obeyed, her gaze traveling searchingly along +the steep trail.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, the beauties!” she +cried as she discovered the pink flowers. “The +beauties! Oh, there are more of them! And still more! +Oh, Amanda!”</p> + +<p align="left">Before them was Amanda’s haunt +of the pink moccasin. From the low underbrush of spring +growth rose several dozen gorgeously beautiful pink +lady-slippers, each alone on a thick stem with two +broad leaves spreading their green beauty near the +base. What miracle had brought the rare shy plants +so near the dusty road where rattling wagons and gliding +automobiles sped on their busy way?</p> + +<p>“May I pick them?” asked the city girl.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, but only one root. I’ll +dig that up with the trowel. That’s for your +friend’s botany specimen. The rest we’ll +pull up gently and we’ll get flower, stem and +leaves and leave the roots in the ground for other +years. I never pick all of the flowers. I leave some +here in the woods --it seems they belong here and +I can’t bring myself to walk off with every +last one of them in my arms and leave the hill desolate.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You <i>are</i> a queer girl!” +was the frank statement of the city girl. “But +you’re a dear, just the same.”</p> + +<p>They picked a number of the largest flowers.</p> + +<p>“That’s enough,” Amanda declared.</p> + +<p>Isabel laughed. “I’d take every one if +it were my haunt.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And then other people might +come here after some and find the place robbed of +all its blooms.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” said the other girl +easily, “I look out for Isabel. Now, please, +may I pick some of that pretty wild azalea?” +she asked teasingly as they came down the hill.</p> + +<p align="left">“Help yourself. That isn’t +rare. You couldn’t take all of that if you tried.”</p> + +<p align="left">So Isabel gathered branches of the +pink bloom until her arms were filled with it and +the six moccasins in her hand almost overshadowed.</p> + +<p align="left">As the two girls reached the edge +of the woods and climbed over the fence into the school-yard +Martin Landis came walking down the road.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello,” he called gaily. +“Been robbing the woods, Amanda?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Aren’t they lovely?” +she asked. Then when he drew near she introduced him +to the girl beside her.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin Landis was not a blind man. +A pretty girl, dark-eyed and dusky-haired, her arms +full of pink azaleas, her lips parted in a smile above +the flowers, and that smile given to him--it was too +pretty a picture to fail in making an impression upon +him.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda saw the look of keen interest +in the eyes of the girl and her heart felt heavy. +What fortune had brought the two together? Had the +Fates designed the meeting of Isabel and Martin? “Oh, +now I’ve done it!” thought Amanda. “Isabel +wants what she wants and generally gets it. Pray heaven, +she won’t want ‘My Martin!’”</p> + +<p align="left">Similar thoughts disturbed her as +they stepped on the sunny road once more and stood +there talking. With a gay laugh Isabel took the finest +pink moccasin from her bunch and handed it to Martin. +“Here, I’ll be generous,” she said +in friendly tones.</p> + +<p align="left">“Thank you, Miss Souders.” +The reply was accompanied with a smile of pleasure.</p> + +<p align="left">A low laugh rippled from the girl’s +red lips. Amanda’s ears tingled so she did not +understand the exchange of light talk. The fear and +jealousy in her heart dulled her senses to all save +them, but she laughed, said good-bye, and hid her +feelings as she and Isabel went down the road to the +Reist farmhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda,” the other girl +said effusively, “what a fine young man! Is he +your beau?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No. Certainly not! I have no +beau. I’ve known Martin Landis ever since I +was born, almost. He lives down the road a piece. He’s +a nice chap.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Splendid! Fine! Such eyes, +such wonderfully expressive gray eyes I have never +seen. And he has such a strong face. Of course, his +clothes are a bit shabby. He’d be great if he +fixed up.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” Amanda agreed mechanically. +She was ill-pleased with the dissection of her knight.</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist, with true rural, Pennsylvania +Dutch hospitality, invited Isabel to have supper with +them, an invitation readily accepted. At the close +of the meal Isabel said suddenly to Mrs. Reist, “How +would you like to have me board with you for a few +weeks--a month, probably?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, I don’t know. All +right, I guess, if Millie, here, don’t think +it makes too much work. Poor Millie’s got the +worst of all the work to do. I ain’t so strong, +and there’s much always to do. Of course, Amanda +helps, but none of us do as much as Millie.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But me, don’t I get paid +for it, and paid good?” asked the hired girl, +sending a loving glance at Mrs. Reist. “Far as +I go it’s all right to have Isabel come for +a while. Mebbe she can help, too, sometimes with the +work.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I wouldn’t be much help, +I’m afraid. I never peeled a potato in my life.”</p> + +<p align="left">Millie looked at the girl with slightly +concealed disfavor. “Why, that’s a funny +way, now, to bring up a girl! I guess it’s time +you learn such things once! You dare come, and I’ll +show you how to do a little work. But why do you want +to board when your folks live just in Lancaster?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Father and Mother are going +to the Elks’ Convention and to California. They +expect to be gone about a month. I was going to stay +in Lancaster with my aunt, but I just thought how +much nicer it would be to spend that time in the country.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I guess, too!” +Millie was quick to understand how one would naturally +prefer the country to the city.</p> + +<p align="left">So it was settled that Isabel Souders +was to spend June at the Reist farmhouse. Everybody +concerned appeared well pleased with the arrangement. +But Amanda’s heart hurt. “Why did I take +her for those moccasins?” she thought drearily +after Isabel had gone back to the city with her precious +flowers. “I know Martin will fall in love with +her and she with him. Oh, I’m a mean, detestable +thing! But I wish she’d go to the coast with +her parents!”</p> + +<a name="ch11"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XI</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Boarder</h2> + +<p align="left">The big automobile that brought Isabel +Souders to the Reist farmhouse one day early in June +brought with her a trunk, a suitcase, a bag, an umbrella +and a green parasol.</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca was visiting there that +day and she followed Amanda to the front door to receive +the boarder.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” came the +exclamation as the luggage was carried in, “is +that girl comin’ here for good, with all <i>that</i> +baggage? And what did you let her come here for on +a Friday? That’s powerful bad luck!”</p> + +<p>“For me,” thought Amanda as she went to +meet Isabel.</p> + +<p align="left">“See,” the newcomer pointed +to her trunk, “I brought some of my pretties +along. I’ll have to make hay while the sun shines. +I’ll have to make the most of this opportunity +to win the heart of some country youth. Amanda, dear, +wouldn’t I be a charming farmer’s wife? +Can you visualize me milking cows, for instance?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No,” answered Amanda, +“I’d say that you were cut out for a different +role.” There was a deeper meaning in the country +girl’s words than the flighty city girl could +read.</p> + +<p align="left">“Just the same,” went +on the newcomer, “I’m going to have one +wonderful time in the country. You are such a dear +to want me here and to take me into the family. I +want to do just all the exciting things one reads +about as belonging to life in the country. I am eager +to climb trees and chase chickens and be a regular +country girl for a month.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I hope you brought some +old clothes,” was the practical reply.</p> + +<p align="left">“Not old, but plain little dresses +for hard wear. I knew I’d need them.”</p> + +<p align="left">Later, as Amanda watched the city +girl unpack, she smiled ruefully at the plain little +dresses for hard wear. Her observant eye told her that +the little dresses of gingham and linen must have cost +more than her own “best dresses.” It was +a very lavish wardrobe Isabel had selected for her +month on the farm. Silk stockings and crepe de chine +underwear were matched in fineness by the crepe blouses, +silk dresses, airy organdies, a suit of exquisite +tailoring and three hats for as many different costumes. +The whole outfit would have been adequate and appropriate +for parades on the Atlantic City boardwalk or a saunter +down Peacock Alley of a great hotel, but it was entirely +too elaborate for a Lancaster County farmhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">Millie, running in to offer her services +in unpacking, stood speechless at the display of clothes. +“Why,” she almost stammered, “what +in the world do you want with all them fancy things +here? Them’s party clothes, ain’t?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No.” Isabel shook her +head. “Some are to wear in the evening and the +plainer ones are afternoon dresses, and the linen and +gingham ones are for morning wear.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I be! What don’t +they study for society folks! A different dress for +every time of the day! What would you think if you +had to dress like I do, with my calico dress on all +day, only when I wear my lawn for cool or in winter +a woolen one for warm?”</p> + +<p>Millie went off, puzzled at the ways of society.</p> + +<p align="left">“Is she just a servant?” +asked Isabel when they heard her heavy tread down +the stairs.</p> + +<p align="left">“She isn’t <i>just</i> +anything! She’s a jewel! Mother couldn’t +do without Millie. We’ve had her almost twenty +years. We can leave everything to her and know it +will be taken care of. Why, Millie’s as much +a part of the family as though she really belonged +to it. When Phil and I were little she was always +baking us cookies in the shape of men or birds, and +they always had big raisin eyes. Millie’s a treasure +and we all think of her as being one of the family.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother says that’s just +the reason she won’t hire any Pennsylvania Dutch +girls; they always expect to be treated as one of the +family. We have colored servants. You can teach them +their place.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I see. I suppose so,” +agreed Amanda, while she mentally appraised the girl +before her and thought, “Isabel Souders, a little +more democracy wouldn’t be amiss for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">Although the boarder who came to the +Reist farmhouse was unlike any of the members of the +family, she soon won her way into their affections. +Her sweet tenderness, her apparent childlike innocence, +appealed to the simple, unsuspicious country folk. +Shaping her actions in accordance with the old Irish +saying, “It’s better to have the dogs of +the street for you than against you,” Isabel +made friends with Millie and went so far as to pare +potatoes for her at busy times. Philip and Uncle Amos +were non-committal beyond a mere, “Oh, I guess +she’s all right. Good company, and nice to have +around.”</p> + +<p align="left">The first Sunday of the boarder’s +stay in the country she invited herself to accompany +the family to Mennonite church. Amanda appeared in +a simple white linen dress and a semi-tailored black +hat, but when Isabel tripped down the stairs the daughter +of the house was quite eclipsed. Isabel’s dark +hair was puffed out becomingly about cheeks that had +added pink applied to them. In an airy orchid organdie +dress and hat to match, white silk stockings and white +buckskin pumps, she looked ready for a garden party. +According to all the ways of human nature more than +one little Mennonite maid in that meeting-house must +have cast sidelong glances at the beautiful vision, +and older members of the plain sect must have thought +the old refrain, “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!”</p> + +<p align="left">Aunt Rebecca was at church that morning +and came to the Reist home for dinner. She sought +out Millie in the kitchen and gave her unsolicited, +frank opinion--"My goodness, I don’t think much +of that there Isabel from Lancaster! She’s too +much stuck up. Such a get-up for a Sunday and church +like she has on to-day! She looks like a regular peacock. +It’ll go good if she don’t spoil our Amanda +yet till she goes home.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I guess not. She’s +a little fancier than I like to see girls, but then +she’s a nice girl and can’t do Amanda no +hurt.”</p> + +<p align="left">“She means herself too big, +that’s what! And them folks ain’t the right +kind for Amanda to know. It might spite you all yet +for takin’ her in to board. Next thing she’ll +be playin’ round with some of the country boys +here, and mebbe take one that Amanda would liked to +get. There’s no trustin’ such gay dressers. +I found that out long a’ready.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” said Millie, “I +guess Amanda don’t like none of the boys round +here in Crow Hill.”</p> + +<p align="left">“How do you know? Guess Amanda +ain’t no different from the rest of us in petticoats. +You just wait once and see how long it goes till the +boys commence to hang round this fancy Isabel.”</p> + +<p align="left">Millie hadn’t long to wait. +Through Mrs. Landis, who had been to Mennonite church +and noticed a stranger with the Reist family, Martin +Landis soon knew of the boarder. That same evening +he dressed in his best clothes. He had not forgotten +the dark eyes of Isabel smiling to him over the pink +azaleas.</p> + +<p align="left">“Where you goin’, Mart?” +asked his mother. “Over to Landisville to church?”</p> + +<p>“No--just out for a little while.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Take me with,” coaxed +the littlest Landis, now five years old and the ninth +in line.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, go on!” spoke up +an older Landis boy, “what d’you think +Mart wants with you? He’s goin’ to see +his girl. Na, ah!” he cried gleefully and clapped +his hands, “I guessed it! Look at him blushin’, +Mom!”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin made a grab for the boy and +shook him. “You’ve got too much romantic +nonsense in your head,” he told the teasing brother. +“Next thing you know you’ll be a poet!” +He released the squirming boy and rubbed a finger +round the top of his collar as he turned to his mother.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m just going down to +Reists’ a while. I met Miss Souders a few weeks +ago and thought it would be all right for me to call. +The country must seem quiet to her after living in +the city.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Of course it’s all right, +Martin,” agreed his mother. “Just you go +ahead.”</p> + +<p align="left">But after he left, Mrs. Landis sat +a long while on the porch, thinking about her eldest +boy, her first-born. “He’s goin’ +to see that doll right as soon as she comes near, +and yet Amanda he don’t go to see when she’s +alone, not unless he wants her to go for a walk or +something like that. If only he’d take to Amanda! +She’s the nicest girl in Lancaster County, I +bet! But he looks right by her. This pretty girl, in +her fancy clothes and with her flippy ways--I know +she’s flippy, I watched her in church--she takes +his eye, and if she matches her dress she’ll +go to his head like hard cider. Ach, sometimes abody +feels like puttin’ blinders on your boys till +you get ’em past some women.”</p> + +<p align="left">A little later the troubled mother +walked back to the side porch, where her husband was +enjoying the June twilight while he kept an eye on +four of the younger members of the family as they +were quietly engaged in their Sabbath recreation of +piecing together picture puzzles.</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin,” she said as +she sat beside the man, “I’ve been thinkin’ +about our Mart.”</p> + +<p>“Yes? What?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, I feel we ain’t +doin’ just right by him. You know he don’t +like farmin’ at all. He’s anxious to get +more schoolin’ but he ain’t complainin’. +He wants to fit himself so he can get in some office +or bank in the city and yet here he works on the farm +helpin’ us like he really liked to do that kind +of work. Now he’s of age, and since Walter and +Joe are big enough to help you good and we’re +gettin’ on our feet a little since the nine +babies are out of the dirt, as they say still, why +don’t we give Martin a chance once?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, why not? I’m agreed, +Ma. He’s been workin’ double, and when +I’m laid up with that old rheumatism he runs +things good as I could. We got the mortgage paid off +now. How’d it be if we let him have the tobacco +money? I was thinkin’ of puttin’ in the +electric lights and fixin’ things up a little +with it, but if you’d rather give it to Mart--”</p> + +<p align="left">“I would. Much rather! I used +oil lamps this long and I guess I can manage with +them a while yet.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, but as soon as we +can we’ll get others. Mart’s young and +ought to have his chance, like you say. I don’t +know what for he’d rather sit over a lot o’ +books in some hot little office or stand in a stuffy +bank and count other people’s money when he could +work on a farm and be out in the open air, but then +we ain’t all alike and I guess it’s a +good thing we ain’t. We’ll tell him he +dare have time for goin’ to Lancaster to school +if he wants. Mebbe he’ll be a lawyer or president +some day, ain’t, Ma?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Martin, I don’t +think that would be so much. I’d rather have +my children just plain, common people like we are. +Mart’s gone up to Reists’ this evening.”</p> + +<p>“So? To see Amanda, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“Her or that boarder from Lancaster.”</p> + +<p>“That ruffly girl we saw this morning?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, don’t you worry, +Ma. Our Mart won’t run after that kind of a +girl! Anyhow, not for long.”</p> + +<p align="left">At that moment the object of their +discussion was approaching the Reist farmhouse. The +entire household, Millie included, sat on the big front +porch as the caller came down the road.</p> + +<p align="left">“Look,” said Philip, and +began to sing softly. “Here comes a beau a-courting, +a-courting---”</p> + +<p>“Phil!” chided Millie and Amanda in one +breath.</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t worry, Sis,” +said the irrepressible youth, “we’ll gradually +efface ourselves, one by one--we’re very thoughtful. +I’ll flip a penny to see whether Isabel stays +or you. Heads you win, tails she does.”</p> + +<p>“Phil!”</p> + +<p align="left">The vehement protest from his sister +did not deter the boy from tossing the coin, which +promptly rolled off the porch and fell into a bed of +geraniums.</p> + +<p align="left">“See,” he continued, “even +the Fates are uncertain which one of you will win. +I suppose the battle’s to the strongest this +time. Oh, hello, Martin,” he said graciously +as the caller turned in at the gate, “Nice day, +ain’t it?”</p> + +<p align="left">“What ails the boy?” asked +Martin, laughing as he raised his hat and joined the +group on the porch.</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin,” said Amanda +after he had greeted Isabel and took his place on +a chair near her, “you’d do me an everlasting +favor if you’d turn that brother of mine up +on your knees and spank him.”</p> + +<p>“Now that I’d like to see!” spoke +up Millie.</p> + +<p align="left">“You would, Millie? You’d +like to see me get that? After all the coal I’ve +carried out of the cellar for you, and the other ways +I’ve helped make your burden lighter--you’d +sit and see me humiliated! Ingratitude! Even Millie +turns against me. I’m going away from this crowd +where I’m not appreciated.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, you needn’t affect +such an air of martyrdom,” his sister told him. +“I know you have a book half read; you want to +get back to that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Say,” said Uncle Amos, +“these women, if they don’t beat all! They +ferret all the weak spots out a man. I say it ain’t +right.”</p> + +<p align="left">Later in the evening the older members +of the household left the porch and the trio of eternal +trouble--two girls and a man--were left alone. It +was then the city girl exerted her most alluring wiles +to be entertaining. The man had eyes and ears for +her only. As Mrs. Landis once said, he looked past +Amanda and did not see her. She sat in the shadow +and bit her lip as her plumed knight paid court before +the beauty and charm of another. The heart of the +simple country girl ached. But Isabel smiled, flattered +and charmed and did it so adeptly that instead of +being obnoxious to the country boy it thrilled and +held him like the voice of a Circe. They never noticed +Amanda’s silence. She could lean back in her +chair and dream. She remembered the story of Ulysses +and his wax-filled ears that saved him from the sirens; +the tale of Orpheus, who drowned their alluring voices +by playing on his instrument a music sweeter than +theirs--ah, that was her only hope! That somewhere, +deep in the heart of the man she loved was a music +surpassing in sweetness the music of the shallow girl’s +voice which now seemed to sway him to her will. “If +he is a man worth loving,” she thought, “he’ll +see through the surface glamour of a girl like that.” +It was scant consolation, for she knew that only too +frequently do noble men give their lives into the precarious +keeping of frivolous, butterfly women.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why so pensive?” the +voice of Isabel pierced her revery.</p> + +<p align="left">“Me--oh, I haven’t had +a chance to get a word in edgewise.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I was telling Mr. Landis he +should go on with his studies. A correspondence course +would be splendid for him if he can’t get away +from the farm for regular college work.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m going to write about +that course right away,” Martin said. “I’m +glad I had this talk with you, Miss Souders. I’ll +do as you suggest-- study nights for a time and then +try to get into a bank in Lancaster. It is so kind +of you to offer to see your father about a position. +I’d feel in my element if I ever held a position +in a real bank. I’ll be indebted to you for +life.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” she disclaimed any +credit, “your own merits would cause you to +make good in the position. I am sure Father will be +glad to help you. He has helped several young men +to find places. All he asks in return is that they +make good. I know you’d do that.”</p> + +<p align="left">When Martin Landis said good-night +his earnest, “May I come again-- soon?” +was addressed to Isabel. She magnanimously put an arm +about Amanda before she replied, “Certainly. +We’ll be glad to have you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” thought Amanda, +“I’ll be hating her pretty soon and then +how will I ever endure having her around for a whole +month! I’m a mean, jealous cat! Let Martin Landis +choose whom he wants--I should worry!”</p> + +<p align="left">She said good-night with a stoical +attempt at indifference, thereby laying the first +block of the hard, high barricade she meant to build +about her heart. She would be no child to cry for the +moon, the unattainable. If her heart bled what need +to make a public exhibition of it! From that hour +on the front porch she turned her back on her gay, +merry, laughing girlhood and began the journey in the +realm of womanhood, where smiles hide sorrows and +the true feelings of the heart are often masked.</p> + +<p align="left">The determination to meet events with +dignity and poise came to her aid innumerable times +during the days that followed. When Martin came to +the Reist farmhouse with the news that his father was +going to give him money for a course in a Business +School in Lancaster it was to Isabel he told the tidings +and from her he received the loudest handclaps.</p> + +<p align="left">The city girl, rosy and pretty in +her morning dresses, ensconced herself each day on +the big couch hammock of the front porch to wave to +Martin Landis as he passed on his way to the trolley +that took him to his studies in the city. Sometimes +she ran to the gate and tossed him a rose for his +buttonhole. Later in the day she was at her post again, +ready to ask pleasantly as he passed, “Well, +how did school go to-day?” Such seemingly spontaneous +interest spurred the young man to greater things ahead.</p> + +<p align="left">Many evenings Martin sat on the Reist +porch and he and Isabel laughed and chatted and sometimes +half-absent-mindedly referred a question to Amanda. +Frequently that young lady felt herself to be a fifth +wheel and sought some diversion. Excuses were easy +to find; the most palpable one was accepted with calm +credulity by the infatuated young people.</p> + +<p align="left">One day, when three weeks of the boarder’s +stay were gone, Lyman Mertzheimer came home from college, +bringing with him a green roadster, the gift of his +wealthy, indulgent father.</p> + +<p align="left">He drew up to the Reist house and +tooted his horn until Amanda ran into the yard to +discover what the noise meant.</p> + +<p align="left">“Good-morning, Lady Fair!” +he called, laughing at her expression of surprise. +“I thought I could make you come! Bump of curiosity +is still working, I see. Wait, I’m coming in,” +he called after her as she turned indignantly and +moved toward the house.</p> + +<p align="left">“Please!” He called again +as she halted, ashamed to be so lacking in cordiality. +“I want to see you. That’s a cold, cruel +way to greet a fellow who’s just come home from +college and rushes over to see you first thing.”</p> + +<p align="left">He entered the yard and Amanda bade +him, “Come up. Sit down,” as she took +a chair on the porch. “So you’re back for +the summer, Lyman.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. Aren’t you delighted?” +He smiled at her teasingly. “I’m back to +the ‘sauerkraut patch’ again. Glory, I +wish Dad would sell out and move to some decent place.”</p> + +<p>“Um,” she grunted, refraining from speech.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. I loathe this Dutch, poky +old place. The only reason I’m glad to ever +see it again is because you live here. That’s +the only excuse I have to be glad to see Lancaster +County. And that reminds me, Amanda, have you forgotten +what I told you at the Spelling Bee? Do you still +feel you don’t want to tackle the job of reforming +me? Come, now,” he pleaded, “give a fellow +a bit of hope to go on.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I told you no, Lyman. I don’t +change my mind so easily.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, you naughty girl!” +came Isabel’s sweet voice as she drifted to the +porch. “I looked all over the house for you, +Amanda, and here I find you entertaining a charming +young man.”</p> + +<p align="left">Isabel was lovely as usual. Amanda +introduced Lyman to her and as the honeyed words fell +from the lips of the city girl the country girl stood +contemplating the pair before her. “That’s +the first time,” she thought, “I was glad +to hear that voice. I do wish those two would be attracted +to each other. They match in many ways.”</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman Mertzheimer was not seriously +attracted to Isabel, but he was at times a keen strategist +and the moment he saw the city girl an idea lodged +in his brain. Here was a pretty girl who could, no +doubt, easily be made to accept attentions from him. +By Jove, he’d make Amanda jealous! He’d +play with Isabel, shower attentions upon her until +Amanda would see what she missed by snubbing a Mertzheimer!</p> + +<p align="left">The following week was a busy one +for Isabel. Lyman danced attendance every day. He +developed a sudden affection for Lancaster County and +took Isabel over the lovely roads of that Garden Spot. +They visited the Cloister at Ephrata, the museum of +antiques at Manheim, the beautiful Springs Park at +Lititz, the interesting, old-fashioned towns scattered +along the road. Over state highways they sped along +in his green roadster, generally going like Jehu, +furiously. The girl enjoyed the riding more than the +society of the man. He was exulting in the thought +that he must be peeving Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">Nevertheless, at the end of Isabel’s +visit, Lyman was obliged to acknowledge to himself, +“All my fooling round with the other girl never +phased Amanda! Kick me for a fool! I’ll have +to think up some other way to make her take notice +of me.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin Landis came in for the small +portion those days. How could he really enjoy his +evenings at the Reist house when Lyman Mertzheimer +sat there like an evil presence with his smirking +smile and his watchful eyes ever open! Some of the +zest went out of Martin’s actions. His exuberance +decreased. It was a relief to him when the boarder’s +parents returned from their trip and the girl went +home. He had her invitation to call at her home in +Lancaster. Surely, there Lyman would not sit like +the black raven of Poe’s poem! Isabel would not +forget him even when she was once more in the city! +Martin Landis was beginning to think the world a fine +old place, after all. He was going to school, had +prospects of securing a position after his own desires, +thanks to Isabel Souders, he had the friendship of +a talented, charming city girl--what added bliss the +future held for him he did not often dream about. +The present held enough joy for him.</p> + +<a name="ch12"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Unhappy Days</h2> + +<p align="left">That September Amanda went back to +her second year of teaching at Crow Hill. She went +bearing a heavy heart. It was hard to concentrate her +full attention on reading, spelling and arithmetic. +She needed constantly to summon all her will power +to keep from dreaming and holding together her tottering +castles in Spain.</p> + +<p align="left">From the little Landis children, pupils +in her school, she heard unsolicited bits of gossip +about Martin--"Our Mart, he’s got a girl in +Lancaster.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, you mustn’t talk +like that!” Amanda interrupted, feeling conscience +stricken.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, that don’t matter,” +came the frank reply; “it ain’t no secret. +Pop and Mom tease him about it lots of times. He gets +all dressed up still evenings and takes the trolley +to Lancaster to see his girl.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he goes in on business.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Business--you bet not! Not +every week and sometimes twice a week would he go +on business. He’s got a girl and I heard Mom +tell Pop in Dutch that she thinks it’s that +there Isabel that boarded at your house last summer +once. Mom said she wished she could meet her, then +she’d feel better satisfied. We don’t +want just anybody to get our Mart. But I guess anybody +he’d pick out would be all right, don’t +you, Aman--I mean, Miss Reist?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I guess so--of course she would,” +Amanda agreed.</p> + +<p align="left">One winter day Martin himself mentioned +the name of Isabel to Amanda. He stopped in at the +Reist farm, seeming his old friendly self. “I +came in to tell you good news,” he told Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now what?” asked Millie, +who was in the room with Mrs. Reist and Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ve been appointed to +a place in the bank at Lancaster.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good! I’m so glad, Martin!” +cried the girl with genuine interest and joy. “It’s +what you wanted, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. But I would never have +landed it so soon if it hadn’t been for Mr. +Souders, Isabel’s father. He’s influential +in the city and he helped me along. Now it’s +up to me to make good.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You’ll do that, I’m +sure you will!” came the spontaneous reply.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin looked at the bright, friendly +face of Amanda. “Why,” he thought, “how +pleased she is! She’s a great little pal.” +For a moment the renewed friendliness of childhood +days was awakened in him.</p> + +<p align="left">“Say, Amanda,” he said, +“we haven’t had a good tramp for ages. +I’ve been so busy with school"--he flushed, +thinking of the city girl to whom he had been giving +so much of his time--"and--well, I’ve been at +it pretty hard for a while. Now I’ll just keep +on with my correspondence work but I’ll have +a little more time. Shall we take a tramp Sunday afternoon?”</p> + +<p align="left">“If you want to,” the +girl responded, her heart pounding with pleasure.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda dressed her prettiest for that +winter tramp. She remembered Queen Esther, who had +put on royal apparel to win the favor of the king. +The country girl, always making the most of her good +features and coloring, was simply, yet becomingly +dressed when she met Martin in the Reist sitting-room. +In her brown suit, little brown hat pulled over her +red hair, a brown woolly scarf thrown over her shoulders, +she looked like a creature of the woodland she loved.</p> + +<p align="left">That walk in the afternoon sunshine +which warmed slightly the cold, snowy earth, was a +happy one to both. Some of the old comradeship sprang +up, mushroom-like, as they climbed the rail fence and +entered the woods where they had so often sought wild +flowers and birds’ nests. Martin spoke frankly +of his work and his ambition to advance. Amanda was +a good listener, a quality always appreciated by a +man. When he had told his hopes and aspirations to +her he began to take interest in her affairs. Her +school, funny incidents occurring there, her basket +work with the children--all were talked about, until +Amanda in dazed fashion brushed her hand across her +eyes and wondered whether Isabel and her wiles was +all an hallucination.</p> + +<p align="left">But the subject came round all too +soon. They were speaking of the Victrola recently +purchased for the Crow Hill school when Martin asked, +“Have you ever heard Isabel Souders play?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, at Millersville. She often played at recitals.”</p> + +<p align="left">“She’s great! Isn’t +she great at a piano! She’s been good enough +to invite me in there. Sometimes she plays for me. +The first time she played ragtime but I told her I +hate that stuff. She said she’s versatile, can +please any taste. So now she entertains me with those +lovely, dreamy things that almost talk to you. She’s +taught me to play cards, too. I haven’t said +anything about it at home, they wouldn’t understand. +Mother and Father still consider cards wicked. I dare +say it wouldn’t be just the thing for Mennonites +to play cards, but I fail to see any harm in it.”</p> + +<p>“No--but your mother would be hurt if she knew +it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“She won’t know it. I +wouldn’t do anything wrong, but Mother doesn’t +understand about such things. The only place I play +is at Isabel’s home. It’s an education +to be taken into a fine city home like theirs and +treated as an equal.”</p> + +<p align="left">“An equal! Why, Martin Landis, +you are an equal! If a good, honest country boy isn’t +as good as a butterfly city girl I’d like to +know who is! Aren’t your people and mine as +good as any others in the whole world? Even if the +men do eat in their shirt sleeves and the women can’t +tell an oyster fork from a salad one.” The fine +face of the girl was flushed and eager as she went +on, “Of course, these days young people should +learn all the little niceties of correct table manners +so they can eat anywhere and not be embarrassed. But +I’ll never despise any middle-aged or old people +just because they eat with a knife or pour coffee +into a saucer or commit any other similar transgression. +It’s a matter of man-made style, after all. When +our grannies were young the proper way to do was to +pour coffee into the saucers. Why, we have a number +of little glass plates made just for the purpose of +holding the cup after the coffee had been poured into +the saucer. The cup-plates saved the cloth from stains +of the drippings on the cup. I heard a prominent lecturer +say we should not be so quick to condemn people who +do not eat as we think they should. He said, apropos +of eating with a knife or, according to present usage, +with a fork, that it’s just a little matter +of the difference between pitching it in or shoveling +it in.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin laughed. “There’s +nothing of the snob about you, is there? I believe +you see the inside of people without much looking on +the exterior.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I hope so,” she said. +“Shall we turn back now? I’m cold.”</p> + +<p align="left">She was cold, but it was an inward +reaction from the joy of being with Martin again. +His words about Isabel and his glad recounting of the +hours he spent with her chilled the girl. She felt +that he was becoming more deeply entangled in the +web Isabel spun for him. To the country girl’s +observant, analytical mind it seemed almost impossible +that a girl of Isabel’s type could truly love +a plain man like Martin Landis or could ever make +him happy if she married him.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s just one more conquest +for her to boast about,” Amanda thought. “Just +as the mate of the Jack-in-the-pulpit invites the insects +to her honey and then catches them in a hopeless trap, +so women like Isabel play with men like Martin. No +wonder the root of the Jack-in-the-pulpit is bitter--it’s +symbolic of the aftermath of the honeyed trap.”</p> + +<p align="left">Worried, unhappy though she was, Amanda’s +second year of teaching was, in the opinion of the +pupils, highly successful. Some of the wonder-thoughts +of her heart she succeeded in imparting to them in +that little rural school. As she tugged at the bell +rope and sent the ding-dong pealing over the countryside +with its call that brought the children from many +roads and byways she felt an irresistible thrill pulsating +through her. It was as if the big bell called, “Here, +come here, come here! We’ll teach you knowledge +from books, and that rarer thing, wisdom. We’ll +teach you in this little square room the meaning of +the great outside world, how to meet the surging tide +of the cities and battle squarely. We’ll show +you how to carry to commerce and business and professional +life the honesty and wholesomeness and sincerity of +the country. We’ll teach you that sixteen ounces +make a pound and show you why you must never forget +that, but must keep exalted and unstained the high +standards of courage and right.”</p> + +<p align="left">Some world-old philosophical conception +of the insignificance of her own joys and sorrows +as compared with the magnitude of the earth and its +vast solar system came to her at times.</p> + +<p align="left">“My life,” she thought, +“seems so important to me and yet it is so little +a thing to weep about if my days are not as full of +joy as I want them to be. I must step out from myself, +detach myself and get a proper perspective. After +all, my little selfish wants and yearnings are so +small a portion of the whole scheme of things.</p> + +<p>  ’For all that laugh, and all that +weep<br> +  And all that breathe are one<br> +  Slight ripple on the boundless deep<br> +  That moves, and all is gone.’”</p> + +<p align="left">Looking back over the winter months +of that second year of teaching Amanda sometimes wondered +how she was able to do her work in the schoolroom +acceptably. But the strain of being a stoic left its +marks upon her.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness,” said Aunt +Rebecca one day in February when a blizzard held her +snowbound at the Reist farmhouse, “that girl +must be doin’ too much with this teachin’ +and basket makin’ and who knows what not! She +looks pale and sharp-chinned. Ain’t you noticed?” +she asked Mrs. Reist.</p> + +<p align="left">“I thought last week she looked +pinched and I asked if she felt bad but she said she +felt all right, she was just a little bit tired sometimes. +I guess teachin’ forty boys and girls ain’t +any too easy, Becky.”</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, no! I’d +rather tend hogs all day! But why don’t you make +a big crock of boneset tea and make her take a good +swallow every day? There’s nothin’ like +that to build abody up. She looks real bad--you don’t +want her to go in consumption like that Ellie Hess +over near my place.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, mercy no! Becky, how you +scare abody! I’ll fix her up some boneset tea +to-day yet. I got some on the garret that Millie dried +last summer.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda protested against the boneset +but to please her mother she promised to swallow faithfully +the doses of bitter tea. She thought whimsically as +she drank it, “First time I knew that boneset +tea is good for an aching heart. Boneset tea--it isn’t +that I want! I’m afraid I’m losing hold +of my old faith in the ultimate triumph of sincerity +and truth. Seems that men, even men like Martin Landis, +don’t want the old-fashioned virtues in a woman. +They don’t look for womanly qualities, but prefer +to be amused and entertained and flattered and appealed +to through the senses. Brains and heart don’t +seem to count. I wish I could be a butterfly! But +I can never be like Isabel. When she is near I feel +like a bump-on-a-log. My tongue is like lead while +she chatters and holds the attention of Martin. She +compels attention and crowds out everybody else. Oh, +yea! as we youngsters used to say when things went +wrong when we were little. Perhaps things will come +out right some day. I’ll just keep on taking +that boneset tea!”</p> + +<a name="ch13"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XIII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Trouble Maker</h2> + +<p align="left">If “Hell hath no fury like a +woman scorned” a man spurned in love sometimes +runs a close second.</p> + +<p align="left">One day in March Lyman Mertzheimer +came home for the week-end. His first thought was +to call at the Reist home.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda, outwardly improved--Millie +said, “All because of that there boneset tea"--welcomed +spring and its promise, but she could not extend to +Lyman Mertzheimer the same degree of welcome.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s that Lyman again,” +Millie reported after she had opened the door for +the caller. “He looks kinda mad about something. +What’s he hangin’ round here for all the +time every time he gets home from school when abody +can easy see you don’t like him to come?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I don’t know. He +just drops in. I guess because we were youngsters +together.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um, mebbe,” grunted Millie +wisely to herself as Amanda went to see her visitor. +“I ain’t blind and neither did I come in +the world yesterday. That Lyman’s wantin’ +to be Amanda’s beau and she don’t want +him. Guess he’ll stand watchin’ if he +gets turned down. I never did like them Mertzheimers--all +so up in the air they can hardly stand still to look +at abody.”</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman was standing at the window, +looking out gloomily. He turned as Amanda came into +the room.</p> + +<p align="left">“I had to come, Amanda--hang +it, you keep a fellow on pins and needles! You wouldn’t +answer my letters--”</p> + +<p>“I told you not to write.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But why? Aren’t you going +to change your mind? I made up my mind long ago that +I’d marry you some day and a Mertzheimer is a +good deal like a bulldog when it comes to hanging +on.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Lyman, why hash the thing over +so often? I don’t care for you. Go find some +nice girl who will care for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um,” he said dejectedly, +“I want you. I thought you just wanted to be +coaxed, but I’m beginning to think you mean it. +So you don’t care for me--I suppose you’d +snatch Martin Landis in a hurry if you could get him! +But he’s poor as a church mouse! You better tie +him to your apron strings--that pretty Souders girl +from Lancaster is playing her cards there--”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda sprang to her feet. “Lyman,” +she sputtered--"you--you better go before I make you +sorry you said that.”</p> + +<p align="left">The luckless lover laughed, a reckless, +demoniac peal. “Two can play at that game!” +he told her. “You’re so high and mighty +that a Mertzheimer isn’t good enough for you. +But you better look out--we’ve got claws!”</p> + +<p align="left">The girl turned and went out of the +room. A moment later she heard the front door slammed +and knew that Lyman had gone. His covert threat-- +what did he mean? What vengeance could he wreak on +her? Oh, what a complicated riddle life had grown +to be! She remembered Aunt Rebecca’s warning +that tears would have to balance all the laughter. +How she yearned for the old, happy childhood days +to come back to her! She clutched frantically at the +quickly departing joy and cheerfulness of that far-off +past.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m going to keep my +sense of humor and my faith in things in spite of +anything that comes to me,” she promised herself, +“even if they do have to give me boneset tea +to jerk me up a bit!” She laughed at Millie’s +faith in the boneset tea. “I hope it also takes +the meanness and hate out of my heart. Why, just now +I hate Lyman! If he really cared for me I’d +feel sorry for him, but he doesn’t love me, he +just wants to marry me because long ago he decided +he would do so some day.”</p> + +<p align="left">In spite of her determination to be +philosophical and cheerful, the memory of Lyman’s +threat returned to her at times in a baffling way. +What could he mean? How could he harm her? His father +was a director of the Crow Hill school, but pshaw! +One director couldn’t put her out of her place +in the school!</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman Mertzheimer had only a few days +to carry out the plan formulated in his angry mind +as he walked home after the tilt with Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll show her,” +he snorted, “the disagreeable thing! I’ll +show her what can happen when she turns down a Mertzheimer! +The very name Mertzheimer means wealth and high standing! +And she puts up her nose and tosses her red head at +me and tells me she won’t have me! She’ll +see what a Mertzheimer can do!”</p> + +<p align="left">The elder Mertzheimer, school director, +was not unlike his son. When the young man came to +him with an exaggerated tale of the contemptible way +Amanda had treated him, thrown him over as though he +were nobody, Mr. Mertzheimer, Senior, sympathized +with his aggrieved son and stormed and vowed he’d +see if he’d vote for that red-headed snip of +a teacher next year. The Reists thought they were +somebody, anyhow, and they had no more money than +he had, perhaps not so much. What right had she to +be ugly to Lyman when he did her the honor to ask her +to marry him? The snip! He’d show her!</p> + +<p align="left">“But one vote won’t keep +her out of the school,” said Lyman with diplomatic +unconcern.</p> + +<p align="left">“Leave it to me, boy! I’ll +talk a few of them over. There was some complaint +last year about her not doing things like other school-teachers +round here, and her not being a strict enough teacher. +She teaches geography with a lot of dirt and water. +She has the young ones scurrying round the woods and +fields with nets to catch butterflies. And she lugs +in a lot of corn husk and shows them how to make a +few dinky baskets and thinks she’s doing some +wonderful thing. For all that she draws her salary +and gets away with all that tomfoolery--guess because +she can smile and humbug some people--them red-headed +women are all like that, boy. She’s not the +right teacher for Crow Hill school and I’m going +to make several people see it. Then let her twiddle +her thumbs till she gets a place so near home and +as nice as the Crow Hill school!”</p> + +<p align="left">Mr. Mertzheimer, whose august dignity +had been unpardonably offended, lost no time in seeing +the other directors of the Crow Hill school. He mentioned +nothing about the real grievance against Amanda, but +played upon the slender string of her inefficiency, +as talked about by the patrons. He presented the matter +so tactfully that several of the men were convinced +he spoke from a deep conviction that the interests +of the community were involved and that in all fairness +to the pupils of that rural school a new, competent +teacher should be secured for the ensuing term. One +director, being a man with the unfortunate addiction +of being easily swayed by the opinions of others, was +readily convinced by the plausible arguments of Mr. +Mertzheimer that Amanda Reist was utterly unfit for +the position she held.</p> + +<p align="left">When all the directors had been thus +casually imbued with antagonism, or, at least, suspicion, +Mr. Mertzheimer went home, chuckling. He felt elated +at the clever method he had taken to uphold the dignity +of his son and punish the person who had failed to +rightly respect that dignity. In a few weeks the County +Superintendent of Schools would make his annual visit +to Crow Hill, and if “a bug could be put in his +ear” and he be influenced to show up the flaws +in the school, everything would be fine! “Fine +as silk,” thought Mr. Mertzheimer. He knew a +girl near Landisville who was a senior at Millersville +and would be glad to teach a school like Crow Hill. +He’d tell her to apply for the position. It +would take about five minutes to put out that independent +Amanda Reist and vote in the other girl--it just takes +some people to plan! He, Mr. Mertzheimer, had planned +it! Probably in his limited education he had never +read that sententious line regarding what often happens +to the best laid plans of mice and men!</p> + +<p align="left">The Saturday following Mr. Mertzheimer’s +perfection of his plans Millie came home from market +greatly excited.</p> + +<p align="left">“Manda, Manda, come here once!” +she called as she set her empty baskets on the kitchen +table. “Just listen,” she said to the girl, +who came running. “I heard something to-day! +That old Mertzheimer--he--he--oh, yea, why daren’t +I swear just this once! I’m that mad! That old +Mertzheimer and the young one ought to be tarred and +feathered!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, Millie!” said Amanda, +smiling at the unwonted agitation of the hired girl. +“What’s happened?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, this mornin’ two +girls came to my stall and while they was standin’ +there and I waited on some other lady, they talked. +One asked the other if she was goin’ to teach +next year, and what do you think she said--that a +Mr. Mertzheimer had told her to apply for the Crow +Hill school, that they wanted a new teacher there for +another year! I didn’t say nothin’ to +them or let on that I know the teacher of that school, +but I thought a heap. So, you see, that sneakin’ +man is goin’ to put you out if he at all can +do it. And just because you won’t take up with +that pretty boy of his! Them Mertzheimer people think +they own whole Crow Hill and can run everybody in +it to suit themselves.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes--I see.” Amanda’s +face was troubled. “That’s Lyman’s +work.” The injustice of the thing hurt her. +“Of course, I can get another school, but I +like Crow Hill, I know the children and we get along +so well, and it’s near home----”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” came Millie’s +spirited question, “surely you ain’t goin’ +to let Mertzheimers do like they want? I don’t +believe in this foldin’ hands and lookin’ +meek and leavin’ people use you for a shoe mat! +Here, come in once till I tell you somethin’,” +she called as Mrs. Reist, Philip and Uncle Amos came +through the yard. She repeated her account of the +news the strangers had unwittingly imparted to her +at market.</p> + +<p>“The skunk,” said Philip.</p> + +<p align="left">“Skunk?” repeated Uncle +Amos. “I wouldn’t insult the little black +and white furry fellow like that! A skunk’ll +trot off and mind his own business if you leave him +alone, and, anyhow, he’ll put up his tail for +a danger signal so you know what’s comin’ +if you hang around.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, then,” said the +boy, “call him a snake, a rattlesnake.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And that’s not quite +hittin’ the mark, either. A rattlesnake rattles +before he strikes. I say mean people are more like +the copperhead, that hides in the grass and leaves +that are like its own color, and when you ain’t +expectin’ it and without any warnin’, he’ll +up and strike you with his poison fangs. What are +you goin’ to do about it, Amanda?”</p> + +<p>“Do? I’ll do nothing. What can I do?”</p> + +<p align="left">“You might go round and see +the directors and ask them to vote for you,” +suggested Millie. “I wouldn’t let them +people get the best of me --just for spite now I wouldn’t!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I won’t ask for one vote!” +Amanda was decided in that. “The men on the +board have had a chance to see how the school is run, +and if it doesn’t please them, or if they are +going to have one man rule them and tell them how +to vote--let them go! I’ll hand in my application, +that’s all I’ll do.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What for need you be so stiff-headed?” +asked Millie sadly. “It’ll spite us all +if they put you out and you go off somewheres to teach. +Ach, abody wonders sometimes why some people got to +be so mean in this world.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It is always that way,” +said Mrs. Reist gently. “There are weeds everywhere, +even in this Garden Spot. Why, I found a stalk of deadly +nightshade in my rose-bed last summer.”</p> + +<p>“Wheat and chaff, I guess,” was Uncle +Amos’s comment.</p> + +<p align="left">“But, Amanda,” asked Millie, +“ain’t there some person over the directors, +boss over them?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Just the County Superintendent, +and he’s not really boss over them. He comes +round to the schools every year and the directors come +with him and, of course, if he blames a teacher they +hear it, and if he praises one they hear it.”</p> + +<p>“Um--so--I see,” said Millie.</p> + +<a name="ch14"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XIV</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The County Superintendent’s Visit</h2> + +<p align="left">The annual visit of the County Superintendent +of Schools always carries with it some degree of anxiety +for the teacher. Sometimes the visit comes unexpectedly, +but generally the news is sent round in some manner, +and last minute polish and coachings are given for +the hour of trial. The teacher, naturally eager to +make a creditable showing, never knows what vagaries +of stupidity will seize her brightest pupils and cause +them to stand helpless and stranded as she questions +them in the presence of the distinguished visitor +and critic.</p> + +<p align="left">The Superintendent came to the Crow +Hill school on a blustery March day of the sort that +blows off hats and tries the tempers of the sweetest +natured people. Amanda thought she never before lived +through hours so long as those in which she waited +for the visitors. But at length came the children’s +subdued, excited announcement, “Here they come!” +as the grind of wheels sounded outside the windows. +A few minutes later the hour was come--the County +Superintendent and the directors, Mr. Mertzheimer +in the lead, stepped into the little room, shook hands +with the teacher, then seated themselves and waited +for Amanda to go on with her regular lessons and prove +her efficiency.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda, stirred by the underhand workings +of Mr. Mertzheimer, was on her mettle. She’d +just show that man she could teach! Two years’ +experience in handling rural school classes came to +her support. With precision, yet unhurried, she conducted +classes in geography, grammar, reading, arithmetic, +some in beginners’ grades and others in the +advanced classes.</p> + +<p align="left">She saved her trump card for the last, +her nature class, in which the children told from +the colored pictures that formed a frieze above the +blackboard, the names of fifty native birds and gave +a short sketch of their habits, song or peculiarities.</p> + +<p align="left">After that the pupils sang for the +visitors. During that time the eyes of the Superintendent +traveled about the room, from the pressed and mounted +leaves and flowers on the walls to the corn-husk and +grass baskets on a table in the rear of the room.</p> + +<p align="left">When the children’s part was +ended came the time they loved best, that portion +of the visit looked forward to each year, the address +of the County Superintendent. He was a tall man, keen-eyed +and kindly, and as he stood before the little school +the eyes of every child were upon him--he’d +be sure to say something funny before he sat down--he +always did!</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, boys and girls, here +we are again! And, as the old Pennsylvania Dutch preacher +said, ’I’m glad that I can say that I’m +glad that I’m here.’ “He rattled +off the words in rapid Pennsylvania Dutch, at which +the children laughed and some whispered, “Why, +he can talk the Dutch, too!” Then they listened +in rapt attention as the speaker went on:</p> + +<p align="left">“Last year my hour in this schoolroom +was one of the high-lights of my visits to the rural +schools of the county. So I expected big things from +you this year, and it gives me great pleasure to tell +you that I am not disappointed. I might go farther +and tell you the truth--I am more than pleased with +the showing of this school. I listened attentively +while all the classes were in session, and your answers +showed intelligent thinking and reasoning. You had +a surprise for me in that bird class. I like that! +It’s a great idea to learn from colored pictures +the names of our birds, for by so doing you will be +able to identify them readily when you meet them in +the fields and woods. No lover of birds need fear +that one of you will rob a bird’s nest or use +a sling-shot on a feathered neighbor. You show by your +stories about the birds that a proper regard and appreciation +for them has been fostered in you by your teacher. +You all know that it has long been acknowledged that +‘An honest confession is good for the soul,’ +so I’m going to be frank and tell you that as +Miss Reist pointed to the birds there were thirty +out of the fifty that I did not know. I have learned +something of great value with you here to-day, and +I promise you that I’m going to buy a book and +study about them so that when I come to see you next +year I’ll know every one of your pictures. You +make me feel ashamed of my meagre knowledge of our +feathered neighbors on whom, indirectly, our very +existence depends.</p> + +<p align="left">“I made mention last year about +your fine work in basketry, and am glad to do so again. +I like your teacher’s idea of utilizing native +material, corn husk, dried grasses and reeds, all from +our own Garden Spot, and a few colored strands of +raffia from Madagascar, and forming them into baskets. +This faculty of using apparently useless material +and fashioning from it a useful and beautiful article +is one of our Pennsylvania Dutch heritages and one +we should cherish and develop.</p> + +<p align="left">“I understand there has been +some adverse criticism among a few of the less liberal +patrons of the community in regard to the basket work +and nature study Miss Reist is teaching. Oh, I suppose +we must expect that! Progress is always hampered by +sluggish stupidity and contrariness. We who can see +into the future and read the demands of the times must +surely note that the children must be taught more than +the knowledge contained between the covers of our +school books. The teacher who can instil into the +hearts of her pupils a feeling of kinship with the +wild creatures of the fields and woods, who can waken +in the children an appreciation of the beauty and +symmetry of the flowers, even the weeds, and at the +same time not fail in her duty as a teacher of arithmetic, +history, and so forth, is a real teacher who has the +proper conception of her high calling and is conscientiously +striving to carry that conception into action.</p> + +<p align="left">“Directors, let me make this +public statement to you, that in Miss Reist you have +a teacher well worthy of your heartiest cooperation. +The danger with us who have been out of school these +thirty years or more is that we expect to see the +antiquated methods of our own school days in operation +to-day. We would have the schools stand still while +the whole world moves.</p> + +<p align="left">“I feel it is only just to commend +a teacher’s work when it deserves commendation, +as I consider it my duty to point out the flaws and +name any causes for regret I may discover in her teaching. +In this school I have found one big cause for regret---”</p> + +<p align="left">The hard eyes of Mr. Mertzheimer flashed. +All through the glowing praise of the County Superintendent +the schemer had sat with head cast down and face flushed +in mortification and anger. Now his head was erect. +Good! That praise was just a bluff! That red-head would +get a good hard knock now! Good enough for her! Now +she’d wish she had not turned down the son of +the leading director of Crow Hill school! Perhaps +now she’d be glad to accept the attentions of +Lyman. Marriage would be a welcome solution to her +troubles when she lost her position in the school +so near home. The Superintendent was not unmindful +of that “flea in his ear,” after all.</p> + +<p align="left">“I have found one cause for +regret,” the speaker repeated slowly, “one +big cause.”</p> + +<p align="left">His deep, feeling voice stopped and +he faced the school while the hearts of pupils and +teacher beat with apprehension.</p> + +<p align="left">“And that regret is,” +he said very slowly so that not one word of his could +be lost, “that I have not a dozen teachers just +like Miss Reist to scatter around the county!”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda’s lips trembled. The +relief and happiness occasioned by the words of the +speaker almost brought her to tears. The children, +appreciating the compliment to their teacher, clapped +hands until the little room resounded with deafening +noise.</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s good,” said +the distinguished visitor, smiling, as the applause +died down. “You stick to your teacher like that +and follow her lead and I am sure you will develop +into men and women of whom Lancaster County will be +proud.”</p> + +<p align="left">After a few more remarks, a joke or +two, he went back to his seat with the directors. +Mr. Mertzheimer avoided meeting his eyes. The father +of Lyman Mertzheimer, who had been so loud in his +denunciation of the tomfoolery baskets and dried weeds, +suddenly developed an intense interest in a tray of +butterflies and milkweed.</p> + +<p align="left">In a few minutes it was time for dismissal. +One of the older girls played a simple march on the +little organ and the scholars marched from the room. +With happy faces they said good-bye, eager to run home +and tell all about the visit of the County Superintendent +and the things he said.</p> + +<p align="left">As the visitors rose to go the County +Superintendent stepped away from the others and went +to Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“You have been very kind,” +she told him, joy showing in her animated face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Honor to whom honor is due, +Miss Reist,” he said, with that winning smile +of approval so many teachers worked to win. “I +have here a little thing I want you to read after +we leave. It is a copy of a letter you might like +to keep, though I feel certain the writer of it would +feel embarrassed if told of your perusal of it. I +want to add that I should have felt the same and made +similar remarks to-day if I had not read that letter, +but probably I should not have expressed my opinion +quite so forcibly. Keep the letter. I intend to keep +the original. It renews faith in human nature in general. +It makes me feel anew how good a thing it is to have +a friend. Good-bye, Miss Reist. I have enjoyed my +visit to Crow Hill school, I assure you.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda looked at him, wondering. What +under the sun could he mean? Why should she read a +letter written to him? She smiled, shook the hand he +offered, but was still at a loss to understand his +words. The directors came up to say good-bye. Mr. +Mertzheimer bowed very politely but refrained from +meeting her eyes as he said, “Good-afternoon.” +The other men did not bow but they added to their +good-bye, “I’m going to vote for you. +We don’t want to lose you.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda’s heart sang as the two +carriages rolled away and she was left alone in the +schoolroom. She had seen the device of the wicked come +to naught, she gloried in the fact that the mean and +unfair was once more overbalanced by the just and +kind. After the tribute from the County Superintendent +and the promises from all the directors but Mr. Mertzheimer +she felt assured that she would not be ignominiously +put out of the school she loved. Then she thought +of the letter and opened it hastily, her eyes traveling +fast over the long sheet.</p> + +<p>“<i>Dear Mister</i>,</p> + +<p align="left">Maybe it ain’t polite to write +to you when you don’t know me but I got a favor +to ask you and I don’t know no other way to do +it. Amanda Reist is teacher of the Crow Hill school +and she is a good one, everybody says so but a few +old cranks that don’t know nothing. There’s +one of the directors on the school board has got a +son that ain’t worth a hollow bean and he wants +Amanda should take him for her beau. She’s got +too much sense for that, our Amanda can get a better +man than Lyman Mertzheimer I guess. But now since +she won’t have nothing to do with him he’s +got his pop to get her out her school. The old man +has asked another girl to ask for the job and he’s +talked a lot about Amanda till some of the other directors +side with him. He’s rich and a big boss and +things got to go his way. Most everybody says Amanda’s +a good teacher, the children run to meet her and they +learn good with her. I heard her say you was coming +to visit the school soon and that the directors mostly +come with you and I just found out where you live and +am writing this to tell you how it is. Perhaps if +you like her school and would do it to tell them directors +so it would help her. It sometimes helps a lot when +a big person takes the side of the person being tramped +on. Amanda is too high strung to ask any of the directors +to stick to her. She says they can see what kind of +work she does and if they want to let one man run +the school board and run her out she’ll go out. +But she likes that school and it’s near her +home and we’d all feel bad if she got put out +and went off somewheres far to teach. I’m just +the hired girl at her house but I think a lot of her. +I will say thanks very much for what you can do.</p> + +<p>And oblige, AMELIA <i>Hess</i>.</p> + +<p align="left">P. S. I forgot to say Amanda don’t +know I have wrote this. I guess she wouldn’t +leave me send it if she did.”</p> + +<p align="left">Tears of happiness rolled down the +girl’s face as she ended the reading of the +letter. “The dear thing! The loyal old body she +is! So that was why she borrowed my dictionary and +shut herself up in her room one whole evening! Just +a hired girl she says--could any blood relative do +a kinder deed? Oh, I don’t wonder he said it +renews faith in human nature! I guess for every Mertzheimer +there’s a Millie. I’ll surely keep this +letter but I won’t let her know I have any idea +about what she did. I’m so glad he gave it to +me. It takes the bitter taste from my mouth and makes +life pleasant again. Now I’ll run home with the +news of the Superintendent’s visit and the nice +things he said.”</p> + +<p align="left">She did run, indeed, especially when +she reached the yard of her home. By the time the +gate clicked she was near the kitchen door. Millie +was rolling out pies, Mrs. Reist was paring apples.</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother,” the girl twined +an arm about the neck of the white-capped woman and +kissed her fervently on the cheek, “I’m +so excited! Oh, Millie,” she treated the astonished +woman to the same expression of love.</p> + +<p align="left">“What now?” said Millie. +“Now you got that flour all over your nice dress. +What ails you, anyhow?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, just joy. The Superintendent +was here and he puffed me way up to the skies and +the directors, all but Mr. Mertzheimer, promised to +vote for me. I didn’t ask them too, either.”</p> + +<p>“I’m so glad,” said Mrs. Reist.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, now ain’t that nice! +I’m glad,” said Millie, her face bright +with joy. “So he puffed you up in front of them +men? That was powerful nice for him to do, but just +what you earned, I guess. I bet that settled the Mertzheimer +hash once! That County man knows his business. He ain’t +goin’ through the world blind. What all did he +say?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, he was lovely. He liked +the baskets and the classes and the singing and--everything! +And Mr Mertzheimer looked madder than a setting hen +when you take her off the nest. He hung his head like +a whipped dog.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Na-ha!” exulted Millie. +“That’s one time that he didn’t have +his own way once! I bet he gets out of the school +board if he can’t run it.”</p> + +<p align="left">Her prediction came true. Mr. Mertzheimer’s +dignity would not tolerate such trampling under foot. +If that red-headed teacher was going to keep the school +he’d get out and let the whole thing go to smash! +He got out, but to his surprise, nothing went to smash. +An intelligent farmer, more amenable to good judgment, +was elected to succeed him and the Crow Hill school +affairs went smoothly. In due time Amanda Reist was +elected by unanimous vote to teach for the ensuing +year and the Mertzheimers, thwarted, nursed their +wrath, and sat down to think of other avenues of attack.</p> + +<a name="ch15"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XV</h1> + +<h2 align="center">“Martin’s Girl”</h2> + +<p align="left">If the securing of the coveted school, +the assurance of the good will and support of the +patrons and directors, and the love of the dear home +folks was a combination of blessings ample enough to +bring perfect happiness, then Amanda Reist should +have been in that state during the long summer months +of her vacation. But, after the perverseness of human +nature, there was one thing lacking, only one--her +knight, Martin Landis.</p> + +<p align="left">During the long, bright summer days +Amanda worked on the farm, helped Millie faithfully, +but she was never so busily occupied with manual labor +that she did not take time now and then to sit idly +under some tree and dream, adding new and wonderful +turrets to her golden castles in Spain.</p> + +<p align="left">She remembered with a whimsical, wistful +smile the pathetic Romance of the Swan’s Nest +and the musing of Little Ellie--</p> + +<p>  “I will have a lover,<br> +  Riding on a steed of steeds;<br> +  He shall love me without guile,<br> +  And to him I will discover<br> +  The swan’s nest among the reeds.<br> +  “And the steed shall be red-roan,<br> +  And the lover shall be noble"--</p> + +<p align="left">and so on, into a rhapsody of the +valor of her lover, such as only a romantic child +could picture. But, alas! As the dream comes to the +grand climax and Little Ellie, “Her smile not +yet ended,” goes to see what more eggs were +with the two in the swan’s nest, she finds,</p> + +<p>  “Lo, the wild swan had deserted,<br> +  And a rat had gnawed the reeds!”</p> + +<p align="left">Was it usually like that? Amanda wondered. +Were reality and dreams never coincident? Was the +romance of youth just a pretty bubble whose rainbow +tints would soon be pierced and vanish into vapor? +Castles in Spain--were they so ethereal that never +by any chance could they--at least some semblance +to them--be duplicated in reality?</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll hold on to my castles +in Spain!” she cried to her heart. “I’ll +keep on hoping, I won’t let go,” she said, +as though, like Jacob of old, she were wrestling for +a blessing.</p> + +<p align="left">Many afternoons she brought her sewing +to the front porch and sat there as Martin passed +by on his way home from the day’s work at Lancaster. +His cordial, “Hello” was friendly enough +but it afforded scant joy to the girl who knew that +all his leisure hours were spent with the attractive +Isabel Souders.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin was friendly enough, but that +was handing her a stone when she wanted bread.</p> + +<p align="left">One June morning she was working in +the yard as he went by on his way to the bank. A great +bunch of his mother’s pink spice roses was in +his arm. He was earlier, too, than usual. Probably +he was taking the flowers to Isabel.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello,” he called to +the girl. “You’re almost a stranger, Amanda.”</p> + +<p align="left">He was not close enough to see the +tremble of her lips as she called back, “Not +quite, I hope.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, Mother said this morning +that she has not seen you for several weeks. You used +to come down to play with the babies but now your +visits are few and far between. Mother said she misses +you, Amanda. Why don’t you run down to see her +when you have time?”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, Martin, I will. +It is some time since I’ve had a good visit +with your mother. I’ll be down soon.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Do, she’ll be glad,” +he said and went down the road to the trolley.</p> + +<p align="left">“Almost a stranger,” mused +the girl after he was gone. Then she thought of the +old maid who had answered a query thus, “Why +ain’t I married? Goodness knows, it ain’t +my fault!” Amanda’s saving sense of humor +came to her rescue and banished the tears.</p> + +<p align="left">“Guess I’ll run over to +see Mrs. Landis a while this afternoon. It is a long +time since I’ve been there. I do enjoy being +with her. She’s such a cheerful person. The +work and noise of nine children doesn’t bother +her a bit. I don’t believe she knows what nerves +are.”</p> + +<p align="left">That afternoon Amanda walked down +the country road, past the Crow Hill schoolhouse, +to the Landis farm. As she came to the barn-yard she +heard Emma, the youngest Landis child, crying and +an older boy chiding, “Ah, you big baby! Crying +about a pinched finger! Can’t you act like a +soldier?”</p> + +<p align="left">“But girls--don’t be soldiers,” +said the hurt child, sobbing in childish pain.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda appeared on the scene and went +to the grassy slope of the big bank barn. There she +drew the little girl to her and began to comfort her. +“Here, let Amanda kiss the finger.”</p> + +<p>“It hurts, it hurts awful, Manda,” sniffed +the child.</p> + +<p align="left">“I know it hurts. A pinched +finger hurts a whole lot. You just cry a while and +by that time it will stop hurting.” She began +to croon to the child the words of an old rhyme she +had picked up somewhere long ago:</p> + +<p>  “Hurt your finger, little lassie?<br> +  Just you cry a while!<br> +  For some day your heart will hurt<br> +  And then you’ll have to smile.</p> + +<p>  Time enough to be a stoic<br> +  In the coming years;<br> +  Blessed are the days when pain<br> +  Is washed away by tears.”</p> + +<p align="left">By the time the verse was ended the +child’s attention had been diverted from the +finger to the song and the smiles came back to the +little face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now,” said Amanda, “we’ll +bathe it in the water at the trough and it will be +entirely well.”</p> + +<p>“And it won’t turn into a pig’s +foot?”</p> + +<p>“Mercy, no!”</p> + +<p>“Charlie said it would if I didn’t stop +cryin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But you stopped crying, you +know, before it could do that. Charlie’ll pump +water and we’ll wash all nice and clean and go +in to Mother.”</p> + +<p align="left">Water from the watering trough in +the barn-yard soon effaced the traces of tears and +a happy trio entered the big yard near the house. An +older boy and Katie Landis came running to meet them.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Amanda,” said Katie, +“did you come once! Just at a good time, too! +We’re gettin’ company for supper and Mom +was wishin’ you’d come so she could ask +you about settin’ the table. We’re goin’ +to eat in the room to-night,’stead of the kitchen +like we do other times. And we’re goin’ +to have all the good dishes and things out and a bouquet +in the middle of the table when we eat! Ain’t +that grand? But Pop, he told Mom this morning that +if it’s as hot to-night as it was this dinner +he won’t wear no coat to eat, not even if the +Queen of Sheba comes to our place for a meal! But +I guess he only said that for fun, because, ain’t, +the Queen of Sheba was the one in the Bible that came +to visit Solomon?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, she ain’t comin’ +to us, anyhow. It’s that Isabel from Lancaster, +Martin’s girl, that’s comin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh!” Amanda halted on +her way across the lawn. “What time is she coming?” +she asked in panicky way, as though she would flee +before the visitor arrived.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, not for long yet! We don’t +eat till after five. Martin brings her on the trolley +with him when he comes home from the bank.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I’ll go in to see +your mother a while.” A great uneasiness clutched +at the girl’s heart. Why had she come on that +day?</p> + +<p align="left">But Mrs. Landis was glad to see her. +“Well, Amanda,” she called through the +kitchen screen, “you’re just the person +I said I wished would come. Come right in.</p> + +<p align="left">“Come in the room a while where +it’s cool,” she invited as Amanda and +several of the children entered the kitchen. “I’m +hot through and through! I just got a short cake mixed +and in the stove. Now I got nothin’ special +to do till it’s done. I make the old kind yet, +the biscuit dough. Does your mom, too?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, it’s better, too, +than this sweet kind some people make. I split it +and put a lot of strawberries on it and we eat it with +cream.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Um, Mom,” said little +Charlie, “you make my mouth water still when +you talk about good things like that. I wish it was +supper-time a’ready.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And you lookin’ like +that!” laughed the mother, pointing to his bare +brown legs and feet and his suit that bore evidence +of accidental meetings with grass and ground.</p> + +<p align="left">“Did they tell you, Amanda,” +she went on placidly, as she rocked and fanned herself +with a huge palm-leaf fan, “that we’re +gettin’ company for supper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes--Isabel.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. Martin, he goes in to +see her at Lancaster real often and he’s all +the time talkin’ about her and wantin’ +we should meet her. She has him to supper--ach, they +call it dinner--but it’s what they eat in the +evening. I just said to his pop we’ll ask her +out here to see us once and find out what for girl +she is. From what Martin says she’s a little +tony and got money and lots of fine things. You know +Martin is the kind can suit himself to most any kind +of people. He can make after every place he goes, +even if they do put on style. So mebbe she thinks +Martin’s from tony people, too. But when she +comes here she can see that we’re just plain +country people. I don’t put no airs on, but I +did say I’d like to have things nice so that +she can’t laugh at us, for I’d pity Martin +if she did that. Mebbe you know how to set the things +on the table a little more like they do now. It’s +so long since I ate any place tony. I said we’d +eat in the room, too, and not in the kitchen. We always +eat in the kitchen for it’s big and handy and +nice and cool with all the doors and windows open. +But I’ll carry things in the room to-night. +It will please Martin if we have things nice for his +girl.”</p> + +<p>“Um-huh, Martin’s got a girl!” sang +Charlie gleefully.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” spoke up Johnny, +a little older and wiser than Charlie. “I know +he’s got a girl. He’s got a big book in +his room and I seen him once look in it and pick up +something out of it and look at it like it was something +worth a whole lot. I sneaked in after he went off and +what d’you think it was? Nothing at all but +one of them pink lady-slippers we find in the woods +near the schoolhouse! He pressed it in that book and +acted like it was something precious, so I guess his +girl give it to him.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda remembered the pink lady-slipper. +She had seen Isabel give it to Martin that spring +day when the city girl’s glowing face had smiled +over the pink azaleas, straight into the eyes of the +country boy.</p> + +<p align="left">“Charlie,” chided Mrs. +Landis, “don’t you be pokin’ round +in Martin’s room. And don’t you tell him +what you saw. He’d be awful put out. He don’t +like to be teased. Ach, my,” she shook her head +and smiled to Amanda, “with so many children +it makes sometimes when they all get talkin’ +and cuttin’ up or scrappin’.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But it’s a lively, merry +place. I always like to come here.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Do you, now? Well, I like to +have you. I often say to Martin that you’re +like a streak of sunshine comin’ on a winter +day, always so happy and full of fun, it does abody +good to have you around. Ach"--in answer to a whisper +from the six-year-old baby, “yes, well, go take +a few cookies. Only put the lid on the crock tight +again so the cookies will keep fresh. Now I guess +I better look after my short cake once. Mister likes +everything baked brown. Then I guess we’ll set +the table if you don’t mind tellin’ me +a little how.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be glad to.”</p> + +<p align="left">While Mrs. Landis went up-stairs to +get her very best table-cloth Amanda looked about +the room with its plain country furnishings, its hominess +and yet utter lack of real artistry in decoration. +Her heart rebelled. What business had a girl like +Isabel Souders to enter a family like the Landis’s? +She’d like to bet that the city girl would disdain +the dining-room with its haircloth sofa along one wall +and its organ in one corner, its quaint, silk-draped +mantel where two vases of Pampas grass hobnobbed with +an antique pink and white teapot and two pewter plates; +its lack of buffet or fashionable china closet, its +old, low-backed, cane-seated walnut chairs round a +table, long of necessity to hold plates for so large +a family.</p> + +<p align="left">“Here it is, the finest one +I got. That’s one I got yet when I went housekeepin’. +I don’t use it often, it’s a little long +for the kitchen table.” Mrs. Landis proudly +exhibited her old linen table-cloth. “Now then, +take hold.”</p> + +<p align="left">In a few minutes the cloth was spread +upon the table and the best dishes brought from a +closet built into the kitchen wall.</p> + +<p>“How many plates?” asked Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, let’s count once. +Eleven of us and Isabel makes twelve and--won’t +you stay, too, Amanda?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! I’d make thirteen,” she +said, laughing.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I don’t believe +in that unlucky business. You can just as well stay +and have a good time with us. You know Isabel.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I know her. But really, +I can’t stay. I must get home early. Some other +time I’ll stay.”</p> + +<p>“All right, then, but I’d like it if you +could be here.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll put twelve plates on the table.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What I don’t know about +is the napkins, Amanda. We used to roll them up and +put them in the tumblers and then some people folded +them in triangles and laid them on the plates, but +I don’t know if that’s right now. Mine +are just folded square.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s right. I’ll +place them to the side, so. And the forks go here +and the knives and spoons to this side.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, don’t it beat all? +They lay the spoons on the table now? What for is +the spoon-holder?”</p> + +<p>“Gone out of style.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, that’s funny. I +guess when our Mary gets a little older once, she’ll +want to fix things up, too. I don’t care if she +does, so long as she don’t want to do dumb things +and put on a lot of airs that ain’t fittin’ +to plain people like us. But it’ll be a big wonder +to me if one of the children won’t say something +about the spoons bein’ on the table-cloth. That’s +new to them. Then I need three glass dishes for jelly +so none will have to reach so far for it. And a big +platter for fried ham, a pitcher for the gravy, a +dish for smashed potatoes, one for sweet potatoes, +a glass one for cabbage slaw and I guess I ought to +put desserts out for the slaw, Amanda. I hate when +gravy and everything gets mixed on the plate. Then +I’m going to have some new peas and sour red +beets and the short cake. I guess that’s enough.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It sounds like real Lancaster +County food,” said the girl. “Your company +should enjoy her supper.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I guess she will. Now +I must call in some of the children and get them started +dressin’ once.”</p> + +<p align="left">She stood at the screen door of the +kitchen and rang a small hand bell. Its tintinnabulation +sounded through the yard and reached the ears of the +children who were playing there. The three boys next +in age to Martin were helping their father in the +fields, but the other children came running at the +sound of the bell.</p> + +<p align="left">“Time to get dressed,” +announced Mrs. Landis. “You all stay round here +now so I can call you easy as one gets done washin’. +Johnny, you take Charlie and the two of you get washed +and put on the clothes I laid on your bed. Then you +stay on the porch so you don’t get dirty again +till supper and the company comes. Be sure to wash +your feet and legs right before you put on your stockings.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Aw, stockings!” growled +Charlie. “Why can’t we stay barefooty?”</p> + +<p>“For company?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” he said sulkily +as he walked to the stairs, “I don’t like +the kind of company you got to put stockings on for! +Not on week-days, anyhow!”</p> + +<p align="left">His mother laughed. “Emma,” +she addressed one of the girls, “when the boys +come back you and Mary and Katie must get washed and +dressed for the company. Mary, you dare wear your +blue hair-ribbons today and the girls can put their +pink ones on and their white dresses.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” the little girls +cried happily. Dressing up for company held more pleasure +for them than it did for the boys.</p> + +<p align="left">“I laugh still,” said +Mrs. Landis, “when people say what a lot of work +so many children make. In many ways, like sewing and +cookin’ for them they do, but in other ways +they are a big help to me and to each other. If I +had just one now I’d have to dress it, but with +so many they help the littler ones and all I got to +do is tell them what to do. It don’t hurt them +to work a little. Mary is big enough now to put a big +apron on and help me with gettin’ meals ready. +And the boys are good about helpin’ me, too. +Why, Martin, now, he used to help me like a girl when +the babies were little and I had a lot to do. Mister +said the other day we dare be glad our boys ain’t +give us no trouble so far. But this girl of Martin’s, +now, she kinda worries me. I said to Mister if only +he’d pick out a girl like you.”</p> + +<p align="left">To her surprise the face of the girl +blanched. Mrs. Landis thought in dismay, “Now +what for dumb block am I, not to guess that mebbe Amanda +likes our Martin! Ach, my! but it spites me that he’s +gone on that city girl! Well,” she went on, +talking in an effort at reparation and in seeming +ignorance of the secret upon which she had stumbled, +“mebbe he ain’t goin’ to marry her +after all. These boys sometimes run after such bright, +merry butterfly girls and then they get tired of them +and pick out a nice sensible one to marry. Abody must +just keep on hopin’ that everything will turn +out right. Anyhow, I don’t let myself worry much +about it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Do you ever worry, Mrs. Landis? +I can’t remember ever seeing you worried and +borrowing trouble.”</p> + +<p align="left">“No, what’s the use? I +found out long ago that worry don’t get you +nowhere except in hot water, so what’s the use +of it?”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s a good way to +look at things if you can do it,” the girl agreed. +“I think I’ll go home now. You don’t +need me. You’ll get along nicely, I’m +sure.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yes, I guess so. But now +you must come soon again, Amanda. This company business +kinda spoiled your visit to-day.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda was in the rear of the house +and did not see the vision of loveliness which passed +the Reist farmhouse about five o’clock that +afternoon. One of Martin’s brothers met the two +at the trolley and drove them to the Landis farm. +Isabel Souders was that day, indeed, attractive. She +wore a corn-colored organdie dress and leghorn hat, +her natural beauty was enhanced by a becoming coiffure, +her eyes danced, her lips curved in their most bewitching +bow.</p> + +<p align="left">The visitor was effusive in her meeting +with Martin’s mother. “Dear Mrs. Landis,” +she gushed, “it is so lovely of you to have me +here! Last summer while I boarded at Reists’ +I was so sorry not to meet you! Of course I met Martin +and some of the younger children but the mother is +always the most adorable one of the family! Oh, come +here, dear, you darling,” she cooed to little +Emma, who had tiptoed into the room. But Emma held +to her mother’s apron and refused to move.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Emma,” Katie, a +little older, chided her. “You’ll run a +mile to Amanda Reist if you see her. Don’t act +so simple! Talk to the lady; she’s our company.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, she’s bashful all +of a sudden,” said Mrs. Landis, smiling. “Now, +Miss Souders, you take your hat off and just make yourself +at home while I finish gettin’ the supper ready. +You dare look through them albums in the front room +or set on the front porch. Just make yourself at home +now.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, how lovely!” came the sweet +reply.</p> + +<p align="left">A little while later when Martin left +her and went to his room to prepare for the evening +meal the children, too, scurried away one by one and +left Isabel alone. She took swift inventory of the +furnishings of the front room.</p> + +<p align="left">“Dear,” she thought, “what +atrocious taste! How can Martin live here? How can +he belong to a family like this?”</p> + +<p align="left">But later she was all smiles again +as Martin joined her and Mrs. Landis brought her husband +into the room to meet the guest. Mr. Landis had, in +spite of protests and murmurings, been persuaded to +hearken to the advice of his wife and wear a coat. +Likewise the older boys had followed Martin’s +example and donned the hot woolen articles of dress +they considered superfluous in the house during the +summer days.</p> + +<p align="left">Isabel chattered gaily to the men +of the Landis household until Mrs. Landis stood in +the doorway and announced, “Come now, folks, +supper’s done.”</p> + +<p align="left">After the twelve were seated about +the big table, Mr. Landis said grace and then Mrs. +Landis rose to pour the coffee, several of the boys +started to pass the platters and dishes around the +table and the evening meal on the farm was in full +swing.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” piped out little +Charlie as he lifted his plate for a slice of ham, +“somebody’s went and threw all the spoons +on the table-cloth! Here’s two by my plate. +And Emma’s got some by her place, too!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Sh!” warned Mary, but +Mrs. Landis laughed heartily. “Easy seeing,” +she confessed, “that we ain’t used to +puttin’ on style. Charlie, that’s the +latest way of puttin’ spoons on. Amanda Reist +did it for me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda Reist,” said Mr. +Landis. “Why didn’t she stay for supper +if she was here when you set the table?”</p> + +<p>“I asked her to but she couldn’t.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” the guest said, +“I think Amanda is the sweetest girl. I just +love her!”</p> + +<p>“Me, too,” added Mary. “She’s +my teacher.”</p> + +<p>“Mine too,” said Katie. “I like +her.”</p> + +<p align="left">The Landis children were taught politeness +according to the standards of their parents, but they +had never been told that they should be seen and not +heard. Meal-time at the Landis farm was not a quiet +time. The children were encouraged to repeat any interesting +happening of the day and there was much laughter and +genial conversation and frank expressions about the +taste of the food.</p> + +<p>“Um, ain’t that short cake good!” +said Charlie, smacking his lips.</p> + +<p>“Delicious, lovely!” agreed the guest.</p> + +<p align="left">“Here, have another piece,” +urged Mrs. Landis. “I always make enough for +two times around.”</p> + +<p>“Mom takes care of us, all right,” testified +Mr. Landis.</p> + +<p>“Lovely, I’m sure,” Isabel said +with a bright smile.</p> + +<p align="left">And so the dinner hour sped and at +length all rose and Martin, tagged by two of the younger +boys, showed Isabel the garden and yard, while Mrs. +Landis with the aid of Mary and one of the boys cleared +off and washed the dishes. Then the entire family +gathered on the big porch and the time passed so quickly +in the soft June night that the guest declared it +had seemed like a mere minute.</p> + +<p align="left">“This is the most lovely, adorable +family,” she told them. “I’ve had +a wonderful time. How I hate to go back to the noisy +city! How I envy you this lovely porch on such nights!”</p> + +<p align="left">Later, when Martin returned from seeing +the visitor back to Lancaster, his parents were sitting +alone on the porch.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, Mother, Dad, what do +you think of her?” he asked in his boyish eagerness +to have their opinion of the girl he thought he was +beginning to care for. “Isn’t she nice?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Seems like a very nice girl,” +said his mother with measured enthusiasm.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Mother,” was the +boy’s impatient answer, “of course you +wouldn’t think any girl was good enough for +your boy! I can see that. If an angel from heaven +came down after me you’d find flaws in her.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Easy, Mart,” cautioned +the father. “Better put on the brakes a bit. +Your mom and I think about the same, I guess, that +the girl’s a likely enough lady and she surely +is easy to look at, but she ain’t what we’d +pick out for you if we had the say. It’s like +some of these here fancy ridin’ horses people +buy. They’re all right for ridin’ but no +good for hitchin’ to a plow. You don’t +just want a wife that you can play around with and +dress pretty and amuse yourself with. You need a wife +that’ll work with you and be a partner and not +fail you when trouble comes. Think that over, Mart.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Gosh, you talk as though I +had asked her to marry me. We are just good friends. +I enjoy visiting her and hearing her play.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, Martin, I know, but life +ain’t all piano playin’ after you get +married, is it, Mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Landis laughed. “No, it’s +often other kinds of music! But I’m not sorry +I’m married.” “Me neither,” +confirmed her husband. “And that, Mart, is what +you want to watch for when you pick a wife. Pick one +so that after you been livin’ together thirty +years you can both say you’re not sorry you +married. That’s the test!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, some test!” the boy +said drearily. “I--I guess you’re right, +both of you. I guess it isn’t a thing to rush +into. But you don’t know Isabel. She’s +really a lovely, sweet girl.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Of course she is,” said +his mother. “You just hold on to her and go +see her as often as you like. Perhaps when you’ve +been at the bank a while longer and can afford to +get married you’ll find she’s the very +one you want. Any one you pick we’ll like.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, of course, yes,” +said Mr. Landis. Wise parents! They knew that direct +opposition to the choice of the son would frustrate +their hopes for him. Let him go on seeing the butterfly +and perhaps the sooner he’d outgrow her charms, +they thought.</p> + +<p align="left">But later, as Mr. Landis unlaced his +shoes and his wife took off her white Mennonite cap +and combed her hair for the night, that mild man sputtered +and stormed. All the gentle acquiescence was fallen +from him. “That empty-headed doll has got our +Mart just wrapped round her finger! All she can say +is ‘Delicious, lovely, darling!’”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Landis laughed at his imitation +of the affected Isabel.</p> + +<p align="left">“Good guns, Mom, if any of our +boys tie up with a doll like that it’ll break +our hearts. Why couldn’t Mart pick a sensible +girl that can cook and ain’t too tony nor lazy +to do it? A girl like Amanda Reist, now, would be +more suited to him. Poor Mart, he’s bamboozled +if he gets this one! But if we told him that he’d +be so mad he’d run to-morrow and marry her. +We got to be a little careful, I guess.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yes, he’ll get over +it. He’s a whole lot like you and I don’t +believe he’d marry a girl like that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, let’s hope he shows +as good taste when he picks a wife as I did, ain’t, +Mom?”</p> + +<a name="ch16"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XVI</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Aunt Rebecca’s Will</h2> + +<p align="left">That summer Aunt Rebecca became ill. +Millie volunteered to take care of her.</p> + +<p align="left">“She ain’t got no child +to do for her,” said the hired girl, “and +abody feels forlorn when you’re sick. I’ll +go tend her if you want.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Millie, I’d be so +glad if you’d go! Strangers might be ugly to +her, for she’s a little hard to get along with. +And I can’t do it to take care of her.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You--well, I guess you ain’t +strong enough to do work like that. If she gets real +sick she’ll have to be lifted around and she +ain’t too light, neither. If you and Amanda +can shift here I’ll just pack my telescope and +go right over to Landisville.”</p> + +<p align="left">So Millie packed and strapped her +old gray telescope and went to wait on the sick woman.</p> + +<p align="left">She found Aunt Rebecca in bed, very +ill, with a kind neighbor ministering to her.</p> + +<p align="left">“My goodness, Millie,” +she greeted the newcomer, “I never was so glad +to see anybody like I am you! You pay this lady for +her trouble. My money is in the wash-stand drawer. +Lock the drawer open and get it out”</p> + +<p align="left">After the neighbor had been paid and +departed Millie and the sick woman were left alone. +“Millie,” said Aunt Rebecca, “you +stay with me till I go. Ach, you needn’t tell +me I’ll get well. I know I’m done for. +I don’t want a lot o’ strangers pokin’ +round in my things and takin’ care of me. I’m +crabbit and they don’t have no patience.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, you’ll be around +again in no time,” said Millie cheerfully. “Don’t +you worry. I’ll run everything just like it ought +to be. I’ll tend you so good you’ll be +up and about before you know it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m not so easy fooled. +I won’t get out of this room till I’m carried +out, I know. My goodness, abody thinks back over a +lot o’ things when you get right sick once! +I made a will, Millie, and a pretty good one,” +the sick woman laughed as if in enjoyment of a pleasant +secret. Her nurse attributed the laughter to delirium. +But Aunt Rebecca went on, astonishing the other woman +more and deepening the conviction that the strange +talk was due to flightiness.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I made a will! Some people’ll +say I was crazy, but you tell them for me I’m +as sane as any one. My goodness, can’t abody +do what abody wants with your own money? Didn’t +I slave and scratch and skimp like everything all +my life! And you bet I’m goin’ to give +that there money just where I want!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, people always fuss about +wills. It gives them something to talk about,” +said Millie, thinking argument useless.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, it won’t worry me. +I won’t hear it. I have it all fixed where and +how I want to be buried, and all about the funeral. +I want to have a nice funeral, eat in the meeting-house, +and have enough to eat, too. I was to a funeral once +and everything got all before all the people had eaten. +I was close livin’, but I ain’t goin’ +to be close dead.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now you go to sleep,” +ordered Millie. “You can tell me the rest some +other time.”</p> + +<p align="left">That evening as Millie sat on a low +rocker by the bedside, the dim flare of an oil lamp +flickering on the faces of the two women, Aunt Rebecca +told more of the things she was so eager to detail +while strength lasted.</p> + +<p align="left">“Jonas always thought that if +I lived longest half of what I have should go back +to the Miller people, his side of the family. But I +tell you, Millie, none of them ever come to see me +except one or two who come just for the money. They +was wishin’ long a’ready I’d die +and they’d get it. But Jonas didn’t put +that in the will. He left me everything and he did +say once I could do with it what I want. So I made +a will and I’m givin’ them Millers five +thousand dollars in all and the rest--well, you’ll +find out what I done with the rest after I’m +gone. I never had much good out my money and I’m +havin’ a lot of pleasure lyin’ here and +thinkin’ what some people will do with what I +leave them in my will. I had a lot of good that way +a’ready since I’m sick. People will have +something to talk about once when I die.”</p> + +<p align="left">And so the sick woman rambled on, +while Millie thought the fever caused the strange +words and paid little attention to their import. But, +several weeks later, when the querulous old woman closed +her eyes in her long, last sleep, Millie, who had +nursed her so faithfully, remembered each detail of +the funeral as Aunt Rebecca had told her and saw to +it that every one was carried out.</p> + +<p align="left">According to her wishes, Aunt Rebecca +was robed in white for burial. The cashmere dress +was fashioned, of course, after the garb she had worn +so many years, and was complete with apron, pointed +cape, all in white. Her hair was parted and folded +under a white cap as it had been in her lifetime. +She looked peaceful and happy as she lay in the parlor +of her little home in Landisville. A smile seemed to +have fixed itself about her lips as though the pleasant +thoughts her will had occasioned lingered with her +to the very last.</p> + +<p align="left">She had stipulated that short services +be held at the house, then the body taken to the church +and a public service held and after interment in the +old Mennonite graveyard at Landisville, a public dinner +to be served in the basement of the meeting-house, +as is frequently the custom in that community.</p> + +<p align="left">The service of the burial of the dead +is considered by the plain sects as a sacred obligation +to attend whenever possible. Relatives, friends, and +members of the deceased’s religious sect, drive +many miles to pay their last respects to departed +ones. The innate hospitality of the Pennsylvania Dutch +calls for the serving of a light lunch after the funeral. +Relatives, friends, who have come from a distance or +live close by, and all others who wish to partake +of it, are welcomed. Therefore most meeting-houses +of the plain sects have their basements fitted with +long tables and benches, a generous supply of china +and cutlery, a stove big enough for making many quarts +of coffee. And after the burial willing hands prepare +the food and many take advantage of the proffered +hospitality and file to the long tables, where bread, +cheese, cold meat, coffee and sometimes beets and pie, +await them. This was an important portion of what +Aunt Rebecca called a “nice funeral,” +and it was given to her.</p> + +<p align="left">Later in the day, while the nearest +relatives were still together in the little house +at Landisville, the lawyer arrived and read the will.</p> + +<p align="left">The Millers, who were so eager for +their legacies, were impatient with all the legal +phrasing, “Being of sound mind” and so +forth. They sat up more attentively when the lawyer +read, “do hereby bequeath.”</p> + +<p align="left">First came the wish that all real +estate be sold, that personal property be given to +her sister, the sum of five hundred dollars be given +to the Mennonite Church at Landisville for the upkeep +of the burial ground. Then the announcement of the +sum of five thousand dollars to be equally divided +among the heirs of Jonas Miller, deceased, the sum +of five thousand dollars to her brother Amos Rohrer, +a like amount to her sister, Mrs. Reist, the sum of +ten thousand dollars to Martin Landis, husband of +Elizabeth Anders, and the remainder, if any, to be +divided equally between said brother Amos and sister +Mary.</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin Landis!” exploded +one of the Miller women, “who under the sun +is he? To get ten thousand dollars of Rebecca’s +money!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll tell you,” +spoke up Uncle Amos, “he’s an old beau +of hers.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, who ever heard of such +a thing! And here we are, her own blood, you might +say, close relations of poor Jonas, and we get only +five thousand to be divided into about twenty shares! +It’s an outrage! Such a will ought to be broken!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I guess not,” came Uncle +Amos’s firm reply. “It was all Rebecca’s +money and hers to do with what suited her. She’s +made me think a whole lot more of her by this here +will. I’m glad to know she didn’t forget +her old beau. She was a little prickly on the outside +sometimes, but I guess her heart was soft after all. +It’s all right, it’s all right, that will +is! It ain’t for us to fuss about. She could +have give the whole lot of it to some cat home or +spent it while she lived. It was <i>hers</i>! If that’s +all, lawyer, I guess we’ll go. Mary and I are +satisfied and the rest got to be. I bet Rebecca got +a lot o’ good thinkin’ how Martin Landis +would get the surprise of his life when she was in +her grave.”</p> + +<p align="left">In a short time the news spread over +the rural community that Rebecca Miller willed Martin +Landis ten thousand dollars! Some said facetiously +that it might be a posthumous thank-offering for what +she missed when she refused to marry him. Others, +keen for romance, repeated a sentimental story about +a broken heart and a lifelong sorrow because of her +foolish inability to see what was best for her and +how at the close of her life she conceived the beautiful +thought of leaving him the money so that he might +know she had never forgotten him and so that he might +remember his old sweetheart. But in whatever form the +incident was presented it never failed to evoke interest. +“Ten thousand dollars from an old girl! What +luck!” exclaimed many.</p> + +<p align="left">If persons not directly concerned +in the ten thousand dollar legacy were surprised what +word can adequately describe the emotion of Martin +Landis when Amanda’s verbal report of it was +duly confirmed by a legal notice from the lawyer!</p> + +<p align="left">“Good guns, Mom!” the +man said in astonishment. “I can’t make +it out! I can’t get head nor tail out the thing. +What ailed Becky, anyhow? To do a thing like that! +I feel kinda mean takin’ so much money. It ought +to go to Amos and Mary. They got five thousand apiece +and somebody said the farms will bring more than Becky +thought and by the time they are sold and everything +divided Amos and Mary will get about eleven thousand +each. It’s right for them to get it, but it don’t +seem right for me to have it.”</p> + +<p align="left">But Millie soon paid a visit to the +Landis home and repeated many of the things Aunt Rebecca +had told her those last evenings by the light of the +little oil lamp. “She said, Mr. Landis, that +one day she was lookin’ at the big Bible and +come across an old valentine you sent her when you +and she was young. It said on it, ’If I had the +world I’d give you half of it.’ And that +set her thinkin’ what a nice surprise she could +fix up if she’d will you some of her money. And +she said, too, that Jonas was a good man but it worried +her that she broke off with a poor man to marry a +rich one when she liked the poor one best. I guess +all that made her so queer and crabbit. She never let +on when she was well that she wished she’d married +you but when she come to die she didn’t care +much if it was found out. You just take that there +money and enjoy it; that’s what Rebecca wanted +you should do.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I guess she wanted me +to have it,” the man said thoughtfully. “But +it beats me why she did it. Why, I’d almost forgot +that I ever kept company with her and was promised +to marry her. It’s so long ago.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Men do forget,” said +Millie. “I guess it’s the women that remember. +But the money’s for you, that’s her will, +and she said I should be sure to see that the will +is carried out and that the money goes where she said.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes--we can use it. We’ll +be glad for it. I wish I could say thanks to Becky +for it. It don’t seem right by Amos and Mary, +though.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, they don’t need +it. They got lots a’ready. The only ones that +begrudge it are the relations of Jonas. None of them +come to shake up a pillow for poor Rebecca or bring +her an orange or get her a drink of water, but they +come when the will was read. I just like to see such +people get fooled! They wanted a lot and got a little +and you didn’t expect nothin’ and look +what you got! There’s some nice surprises in +the world, for all, ain’t!”</p> + +<a name="ch17"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XVII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Martin’s Dark Hour</h2> + +<p align="left">That summer Martin Landis was well +pleased with the world in general. He enjoyed his +work at the bank, where his cordiality and adeptness, +his alert, receptive mind, were laying for him a strong +foundation for a successful career.</p> + +<p align="left">He called often at the home of Isabel +Souders, listened to her playing, made one in an occasional +game of cards, escorted her to musicals and dramas. +He played and talked and laughed with her, but he soon +discovered that he could not interest her in any serious +matter. At the mention of his work, beyond the merest +superficialities, she lifted her hands and said in +laughing tones, “Please, Martin, don’t +talk shop! Father never does. I’m like Mother, +I don’t want to hear the petty details of money-making--all +that interests me is the money itself. Dad says I’m +spoiled--I suppose I am.”</p> + +<p align="left">At such times the troublesome memory +of his father’s words came to him, “You +need a wife that will work with you and be a partner +and not fail you when trouble comes.” Try as +he would the young man could not obliterate those +haunting words from his brain. Sometimes he felt almost +convinced in his own heart that he loved Isabel Souders--she +was so appealing and charming and, while she rebuffed +his confidences about his work, nevertheless showed +so deep an interest in him generally, that he was +temporarily blinded by it and excused her lack of real +interest on the world-old ground that pretty women +are not supposed to bother about prosaic affairs of +the male wage-earners of the race.</p> + +<p align="left">There were moments when her beauty +so thrilled him that he felt moved to tell her he +loved her and wanted to marry her, but somewhere in +the subconscious mind of him must have dwelt the succinct +words of the poster, “When in doubt, <i>don’t!</i>” +So the moments of fascination passed and the words +of love were left unsaid.</p> + +<p align="left">“Some day,” he thought, +“I’ll know, I’ll be sure. It will +probably come to me like a flash of lightning whether +I love her or not. I shouldn’t be so undecided. +I think if it were the real thing I feel for her there +would be not the shadow of a doubt in my heart concerning +it. A man should feel that the woman he wants to marry +is the only one in the universe for him. Somehow, +I can’t feel that about her. But there’s +no hurry about marrying. We’ll just go on being +capital friends. Meanwhile I can be saving money so +that if the time comes when I marry I’ll be +able to support a wife. Things look pretty rosy for +me at present. Since Father is fixed with that legacy +and the boys are old enough to take my place on the +farm I have time to study and advance. I’m in +luck all around; guess I got a horseshoe round my +neck!”</p> + +<p align="left">But the emblem of good luck must have +soon lost its potency. The bank force was surprised +one day by an unexpected examination of the books.</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s the trouble?” +asked Martin of another worker in the bank.</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t know. Ask old +Buehlor. He acts as though he knew.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin approached the gray-haired +president, who was stamping about his place like an +angry dog on leash. “Anything the matter, sir? +Can I help in any way?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, yes, there seems to be,” +he snapped. “Come in, Landis.” He opened +the door of his private office and Martin followed +him inside. He gave one long look into the face of +the young man--"I’m going to tell you. Perhaps +you can make things easier for us to adjust in case +there’s anything wrong. An investigation has +been ordered. One of our heaviest depositors seems +to have some inside information that some one is spending +the bank’s money for personal use.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good guns! In this bank? A +thief?” Horror was printed on the face of Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">The man opposite searched that face. +“Yes--I might as well tell you--I feel like +a brute to do so--if it’s false it’s a +damnable trick, for such a thing is a fiendish calumny +for an honest man to bear--you’re the man under +suspicion.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin sat up, his eyes wide in horror, +then his chest collapsed and his neck felt limber. +“Oh, my God,” he whispered, as though in +appeal to the Infinite Father of Mercy and Justice, +“what a thing to say about me! What a lie!”</p> + +<p>“It’s a lie?” asked the older man +tersely.</p> + +<p align="left">“Absolutely! I’ve never +stolen anything since the days I wore short pants +and climbed the neighbors’ trees for apples. +Who says it?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t divulge that now. Perhaps +later.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin groaned. To be branded a thief +was more than he could bear. His face went whiter.</p> + +<p align="left">“See here,” said the old +man, “I almost shocked you to death, but I had +a purpose in it. I couldn’t believe that of you +and knew I’d be able to read your face. You +know, I believe you! It’s all some infernal mistake +or plot. You’re not a clever enough actor to +feign such distress and innocence. Go out and get +some air and come back to-morrow morning. I’ll +stand for you in the meantime. I believe in you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Thank you, sir,” Martin +managed to blurt out between dry lips that seemed +almost paralyzed. “I’ll be back in the +morning. Hope you’ll find I’m telling +the truth.”</p> + +<p align="left">He walked as a somnambulist down the +street. In his misery he thought of Isabel Souders. +He would go to her for comfort. She’d understand +and believe in him! He yearned like a hurt child for +the love and tenderness of some one who could comfort +him and sweep the demons of distress from his soul. +He wanted to see Isabel, only Isabel! He felt relieved +that no older member of the household was at home at +that time, that the colored servant who answered his +ring at the bell said Isabel was alone and would see +him at once.</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s wrong?” +the girl asked as she entered the room where he waited +for her. “You look half dead!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I am, Isabel,” he said +chokingly. “I’ve had a death-blow. They +are accusing me of stealing the bank’s money.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Martin! Oh, how dreadful! +I’ll never forgive you!” The girl spoke +in tearful voice. “How perfectly dreadful to +have such a thing said after Father got you into the +bank! Your reputation is ruined for life! You can +never live down such a disgrace.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But I didn’t do it!” +he cried. “You must know I couldn’t have +done it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I suppose you didn’t +if you say so, but people always are ready to say +that where there’s smoke there must be some fire! +Oh, dear, people know you’re a friend of mine +and next thing the papers will link our names in the +notoriety and--oh, what a dreadful thing to happen! +They’ll print horrible things about you and may +drag me into it, too! Say you spent the money on me, +or something like that! Father will be so mortified +and sorry he helped you. Oh, dear, I think it’s +dreadful, dreadful!” She burst into weeping.</p> + +<p align="left">As Martin watched her and listened +to her utterly selfish words, in spite of the misery +in his heart, he was keenly conscious that she was +being weighed in the balance and found wanting. The +lightning flash had come to him and revealed how impotent +she was, how shallow and selfish.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, don’t cry about +it,” he said, half bitterly, yet too crushed +to be aught but gentle. “It won’t hurt +you. I’ll see to that. If there’s anything +to bear I’ll bear it alone. My shoulders are +broad.”</p> + +<p align="left">There was more futile exchange of +words, words that lacked any comfort or hope for the +broken-hearted man. Martin soon left and started for +his home.</p> + +<p align="left">Home--he couldn’t go there and +tell his people that he was suspected of a crime. +Home--its old sweet meaning would be changed for all +of them if one of its flock was blackened.</p> + +<p align="left">He flurried past the Reist farmhouse, +head down like a criminal so that none should recognize +him. With quick steps that almost merged into a run +he went up the road. When he reached the little Crow +Hill schoolhouse a sudden thought came to him. He +climbed the rail fence and entered the woods, plodded +up the hill to the spot where Amanda’s moccasins +grew each spring. There he threw himself on the grassy +slope, face down, and gave vent to his despair.</p> + +<a name="ch18"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XVIII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Comforter</h2> + +<p align="left">Amanda Reist knew the woods so well +that she never felt any fear as she wandered about +in them. That August morning as she climbed the fence +by the school-yard and sauntered along the narrow +paths between the trees she hummed a little song--not +because of any particular happiness, but because the +sky was blue and the woods were green and she loved +to be outdoors.</p> + +<p align="left">She climbed the narrow trail, gathering +early goldenrod, which she suddenly dropped, and stood +still. Before her, a distance of about twenty feet, +lay the figure of a man, face down on the ground, his +arms flung out, his hair disheveled. A great fear +rose in her heart. Was it a tramp, an intoxicated +wanderer, was he dead? She shrank from the sight and +took a few backward steps, feeling a strong impulse +to run, yet held riveted to the spot by some inexplicable, +irresistible force.</p> + +<p align="left">The figure moved slightly--why, it +looked like Martin Landis! But he wouldn’t be +lying so in the grass at that time of day! The face +of the man was suddenly turned to her and a cry came +from her lips--it <i>was</i> Martin Landis! But what +a Martin Landis! Haggard and lined, his face looked +like the face of a debilitated old man.</p> + +<p>“Martin,” she called, anxiously. “Martin!”</p> + +<p align="left">He raised his head and leaned on his +elbow. “Oh,” he groaned, then turned his +head away.</p> + +<p align="left">She ran to him then and knelt beside +him in the grass. “What’s wrong, Martin?” +she asked, all the love in her heart rushing to meet +the need of her “knight.” “Tell +me what’s the matter.”</p> + +<p>“They say I’m a thief!”</p> + +<p>“Who says so?” she demanded, a Xantippe-like +flash in her eyes.</p> + +<p align="left">“The bank, they’re examining +the books, swooped down like a lot of vultures and +hunting for carrion right now.”</p> + +<p align="left">“For goodness’ sake! Martin! +Sit up and tell me about it! Don’t cover your +face as though you <i>were</i> a thief! Of course there’s +some mistake, there must be! Get up, tell me. Let’s +sit over on that old log and get it straightened out.”</p> + +<p align="left">Spurred by her words he raised himself +and she mechanically brushed the dry leaves from his +coat as they walked to a fallen log and sat down.</p> + +<p>“Now tell me,” she urged, “the whole +story.”</p> + +<p>Haltingly he told the tale, though the process hurt.</p> + +<p align="left">“And you ran away,” she +exclaimed when he had finished. “You didn’t +wait to see what the books revealed? You ran right +out here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes--no, I stopped at Isabel’s.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh"--Amanda closed her eyes +a moment--it had been Isabel first again! She quickly +composed herself to hear what the city girl had done +in the man’s hour of trial. “Isabel didn’t +believe it, of course?” she asked quietly.</p> + +<p align="left">“No, I suppose she didn’t. +But she cried and fussed and said my reputation was +ruined for life and even if my innocence is proved +I can never wholly live down such a reputation. She +was worried because the thing may come out in the +papers and her name brought into it. She’s mighty +much upset about Isabel Souders, didn’t care +a picayune about Martin Landis.”</p> + +<p align="left">“She’ll get over it,” +Amanda told him, a lighter feeling in her heart. “What +we are concerned about now is Martin Landis. You should +have stayed and seen it through, faced them and demanded +the lie to be traced to its source. Why, Martin, cheer +up, this can’t harm you!”</p> + +<p>“My reputation,” he said gloomily.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, your reputation is what +people think you are, but your character is what you +really are. A noble character can often change a very +questionable reputation. You know you are honest as +the day is long--we are all sure of that, all who +know you. Martin, nothing can hurt <i>you!</i> People +can make you unhappy by such lies and cause the road +to be a little harder to travel but no one except yourself +can ever touch <i>you!</i> Your character is impregnable. +Brace up! Go back and tell them it’s a lie and +then prove it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda"--the man’s voice +quavered. “Amanda, you’re an angel! You +make me buck up. When you found me I felt as though +a load of bricks were thrown on my heart, but I’m +beginning to see a glimmer of light. Of course, I +can prove I’m innocent!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Listen, look!” Amanda +whispered. She laid a hand upon his arm while she +pointed with the other to a tree near by.</p> + +<p align="left">There sat an indigo bunting, that +tiny bird of blue so intense that the very skies look +pale beside it and among all the blue flowers of our +land only the fringed gentian can rival it. With no +attempt to hide his gorgeous self he perched in full +view on a branch of the tree and began to sing in +rapid notes. What the song lacked in sweetness was +quite forgotten as they looked at the lovely visitant.</p> + +<p align="left">“There’s your blue bunting +of hope,” said Amanda as the bird suddenly became +silent as though he were out of breath or too tired +to finish the melody.</p> + +<p align="left">“He’s wonderful,” +said Martin, a light of hope once more in his eyes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, he is wonderful, not only +because of his fine color but because he’s the +one bird that sultry August weather can’t still. +When all others are silent he sings, halts a while, +then sings again. That is why I said he is your blue +bunting of hope. Isn’t it like that with us? +When other feelings are gone hope stays with us, never +quite deserts us--hear him!”</p> + +<p align="left">True to his reputation the indigo +bird burst once more into song, then off he flew, +still singing his clear, rapid notes.</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda,” the man said +as the blue wings carried the bird out of sight, “you’ve +helped me--I can’t tell you how much! I’m +going back to the bank and face that lie. If I could +only find out who started it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t know, but I’d +like to bet Mr. Mertzheimer is back of it, somehow. +The old man is a heavy depositor there, isn’t +he?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, but why under the sun +would he say such a thing about me? I never liked +Lyman and he had no love for me, but he has no cause +to bear me ill will. I haven’t anything he wants, +I’m sure.”</p> + +<p>“No?” The girl bit her lip and felt her +cheeks burn.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin looked at her, amazed. Why +was she blushing? Surely, she didn’t like Lyman +Mertzheimer!</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Martin,” she was +thinking, “how blind you are! You do have something +Lyman Mertzheimer wants. I can see through it all. +He thinks with you disgraced I’ll have eyes +for him at last. The cheat! The cheat!” she +said out loud.</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">“He’s a cheat, Lyman is. +I hope he gets what’s coming to him some day +and I get a chance to see it! You see if that precious +father of his is not at the bottom of all this worry +for you!”</p> + +<p align="left">“It may be. I’m going +in to Lancaster and find out. If he is, and if I ever +get my hands on him---”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good-bye Lyman!” said +Amanda, laughing. “But you wouldn’t want +to touch anything as low as he is.”</p> + +<p>“I’d hate to have the chance; I’d +pound him to jelly.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, no, you wouldn’t. +You’d just look at him and he’d shrivel +till he’d look like a dried crabapple snitz!”</p> + +<p align="left">Both laughed at the girl’s words. +A moment later they rose from the old log and walked +down the path. When they had climbed the fence and +stood in the hot, sunny road Martin said, “I +guess I’ll go home and get cleaned up.” +He rubbed a hand through his tumbled hair.</p> + +<p align="left">“And get something to eat,” +she added. “By that time you’ll be ready, +like Luther, to face a horde of devils.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Thanks to you,” he said. +“I’ll never forget this half-hour just +gone. Your blue bunting of hope will be singing in +my heart whenever things go wrong. You said a few +things to me that I couldn’t forget if I wanted +to--for instance, that nothing, nobody, can hurt <i>me</i>, +except myself. That’s something to keep in mind. +I feel equal to fight now, fight for my reputation. +Some kind providence must have sent you up the hill +to find me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” she said depreciatively, +“I didn’t do a thing but steady you up +a bit. I’m glad I happened to come up and see +you. Go tell them if they’re hunting for a thief +they’re looking in the wrong direction when +they look at Martin Landis! Hurry! So you can get back +before they think you’ve run away. I’ll +be so anxious to hear how much the Mertzheimers have +to do with this. I can see their name written all +over it!”</p> + +<p align="left">Smiling, almost happy again, the man +turned down the road to his home and Amanda went on +to the Reist farmhouse. She, too, was smiling as she +went. She had read between the lines of the man’s +story and had seen there the moving finger writing +above the name of Isabel Souders, “<i>Mene, +Mene, Tekel, Upharsin</i>.”</p> + +<a name="ch19"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XIX</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Vindication</h2> + +<p align="left">When Martin Landis entered the bank +early in the afternoon of that same day he presented +a different appearance from that of his departure in +the morning. His head was held erect, his step determined, +as he opened the swinging door of the bank and entered.</p> + +<p align="left">“What--Landis, you back?” +Mr. Buehlor greeted him, while the quizzical eyes +of the old man looked into those of the younger.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m back and I’m +back to get this hideous riddle solved and the slate +washed clean.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Come in, come in!” Mr. +Buehlor drew him into a little room and closed the +door. “Sit down, Landis.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, how much is the bank +short?” He looked straight into the eyes of +the man who, several hours before, had dealt him such +a death-blow.</p> + +<p align="left">“So far everything is right, +right as rain! There’s a mistake or a damnable +dirty trick somewhere.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Let’s sift it out, Mr. +Buehlor. Will you tell me who had the ’inside +information’ that I was taking bank’s money?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you! It was a farmer near your +home---”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Mertzheimer?” offered Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">“The same! He asked to have +you watched, then changed it and insisted on having +the books examined. Said your people are poor--forgive +me, Landis, but I have to tell you the whole story.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind that. That’s a mere +scratch after what I got this morning.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, he said your father had +a mortgage on his farm up to the time you came to +work in the bank, then suddenly it was paid and soon +after the house was painted, a new bathroom installed, +electric lights put into the house and steam heat, +a Victrola and an automobile bought. In fact, your +people launched out as though they had found a gold +mine, and that in spite of the fact that your crop +of tobacco was ruined by hail and the other income +from the farm products barely enough to keep things +going until another harvest. He naturally thought you +must have a hand in supplying the money and with your +moderate salary you couldn’t do half of that. +He talked with several of the bank directors and an +investigation was ordered. You’ll admit his story +sounded plausible. It looked pretty black for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“To you, yes! But not to him! +Mr. Mertzheimer knows well enough where that money +came from. My father had a legacy of ten thousand dollars +this spring. You people could have found that out with +very little trouble.”</p> + +<p align="left">“We’re a pack of asinine +blunderers, Landis!” Mr. Buehlor looked foolish. +Then he sighed relievedly. “That clears matters +for you. I’m glad. I couldn’t conceive +of you as anything but honest, Landis. But tell me +about that legacy--a pretty nice sum.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s a romantic little +story. An old sweetheart of my father, one who must +have carried under her prickly exterior a bit of tender +romance and who liked to do things other people never +dreamed of doing, left him ten thousand dollars. She +was a queer old body. Had no direct heirs, so she +left Father ten thousand dollars for a little remembrance! +It was that honest money that paid for the conveniences +in our house, the second-hand car Father bought and +the Victrola he gave Mother because we are all crazy +for music and had nothing to create any melody except +an old parlor organ that sounded wheezy after nine +babies had played on it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Landis, forgive me; we’re +a set of fools!” The old man extended his hand +and looked humbly into the face of Martin. The two +gripped hands, each feeling emotion too great for +words.</p> + +<p>After a moment’s silence Mr. Buehlor spoke.</p> + +<p align="left">“This goes no farther. Your +reputation is as safe as mine. If I have anything +to say you’ll be eligible for the first vacancy +in the line of advancement. As for that Mertzheimer, +he can withdraw his account from our bank to-day for +all we care. We can do business without him. But it +puzzles me--what object did he have? If he knew of +the legacy, and he certainly did, he must have known +you were O.K. Is he an enemy of yours?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Not particularly. I never liked +his son but we never had any real tilts.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You don’t happen to want +the same girl he wants, or anything like that?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No--well now--why, I don’t +know!” A sudden revelation came to Martin. Perhaps +Lyman thought he had a rival in him. That would explain +much. “There’s a son, as I said, and we +know a girl I think he’s been crazy about for +years. Perhaps he thinks I’m after her, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I see,” chuckled the +old man. “Well, if the girl’s the right +sort she won’t have to toss a penny to decide +which one to choose.” He noted the embarrassment +of Martin and changed the subject.</p> + +<p align="left">But later in the afternoon as Martin +walked down the road from the trolley and drew near +the Reist farmhouse the old man’s words recurred +to him. Why, he’d known Amanda Reist all his +life! He had never dreamed she could comfort and help +a man as she had done that morning in the woods. Amanda +was a fine girl, a great pal, a woman with a heart.</p> + +<p align="left">Now Isabel--a great disgust rose in +him for the sniveling, selfish little thing and her +impotence in the face of his trouble. “She’s +just the kind to play with,” he thought, “just +a doll, and like the doll, has as much heart as a +thing stuffed with sawdust can have. I guess it took +this jolt to wake me up and know that Isabel Souders +is not the type of girl for me.”</p> + +<p align="left">When he reached the Reist home he +found Amanda and her Uncle Amos on the porch.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, it’s all right!” +the girl cried as he came into the yard. “I can +read it in your face.” Gladness rang in her voice +like a bell.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right,” Martin told her.</p> + +<p>“Good! I’m glad,” said Uncle Amos +while Amanda smiled her happiness.</p> + +<p>“Was I right?” she asked. “Was it +the work of Mertzheimers?”</p> + +<p>“It was. They must hate me like poison.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, he’s a copperhead,” +said Uncle Amos. “He’s so pesky low and +mean he can’t bear to see any one else be honest. +You’re gettin’ up too far to suit him. +It’s always so that when abody climbs up the +ladder a little there’s some settin’ at +the foot ready to joggle it, and the higher abody +climbs the more are there to help try to shake you +down. I guess there’s mean people everywheres, +even in this here beautiful Garden Spot. But to my +notion you got to just go on doin’ right and +not mind ’em. They’ll get what they earn +some day. Nobody has yet sowed weeds and got a crop +of potatoes from it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But,” said the girl, +“I can’t understand it. The Mertzheimer +people come from good families and they have certainly +been taught to be different. I can’t see where +they get their mean streak. With all their money and +chance to improve and opportunities for education and +culture---”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, money"--said Uncle Amos--"what +good does money do them if they don’t have the +right mind to use it? My granny used to say still you +can tie a silk ribbon round a pig’s neck but +she’ll wallow in the dirt just the same first +chance she’ll get. I guess some people are like +that. Well, Martin, I’m goin’ in to tell +Millie--the women--it’s all right with you. +They was so upset about it. And won’t Millie +talk!” He chuckled at the thought of what that +staunch woman would say about Mr. Mertzheimer. “Millie +can hit the nail on the head pretty good, pretty good,” +he said as he ambled into the house.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin lingered on the porch with +Amanda till the sound of the Landis supper bell called +him home.</p> + +<a name="ch20"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XX</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Dinner at Landis’s</h2> + +<p align="left">The following afternoon little Katie +Landis came running down the road and in at the Reist +gate. She greeted Amanda with, “Mom says you +got to come to our place for supper.”</p> + +<p>“To-day?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. She’s goin’ +to kill two chickens and have a big time and she wants +you to come.”</p> + +<p>“Anybody coming? Any company?”</p> + +<p>“No, just you.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Tell Mother I said thank you and +I’ll be glad to come.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, I’ll run and +tell her. I’m in a hurry, for me and Emma’s +playin’ house and I got to get back to my children +before they miss me and set up a howlin’.” +She looked very serious as she ran off down the lane, +Amanda smiling after her.</p> + +<p align="left">Later, as the girl went down the road +to the Landis home she wondered whose birthday it +might be, or what the cause of celebration. The child +had been in such great haste--but what matter the significance +of the festivity so long as she was asked to enjoy +it!</p> + +<p align="left">“Here’s Amanda!” +shouted several of the children gleefully, very boldly +dropping the Miss they were obliged to use during school +hours.</p> + +<p align="left">The guest found Mrs. Landis stirring +up a blackberry pone, the three youngest Landis children +watching the progress of it.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, hello, Amanda. I’m +glad you got here early. Look at these children, all +waitin’ for the dish to lick. Don’t it +beat all how children like raw dough! I used to, but +I wouldn’t eat it now if you paid me.”</p> + +<p>“So did I. Millie chased me many a time.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, people’s tastes +change in more than one way when they get older. I +guess it’s a good thing. Here, Katie, take that +doll off of that chair so Amanda can find a place +to sit down. You got every chair in the house littered +up with things. Ach, Amanda, I scold still about their +things laying round but I guess folks that ain’t +got children would sometimes be glad if they could +see toys and things round the place. They get big +soon enough and the dolls are put away. My, this will +be an awful lonely house when the children all grow +up! I’d rather see it this way, with their things +scattered all around. But the boys are worse than +the girls. What Charlie don’t have in his pants +pocket ain’t in the ’cyclopedia. Martin +was that way, too. He had an old box in the wood-shed +and it was stuffed with all the twine and wire and +nails he could find. But now, Amanda, ain’t it +good he got that all made right at the bank so they +know he ain’t a thief?</p> + +<p align="left">My, that was an awful sin for Mr. +Mertzheimer to make our Mart out a thief! I just wonder +how he could be so mean and ugly. I guess you wonder +why I asked you up to-night. It ain’t nothin’ +special, just a little good time because Martin got +proved honest again. I just said to Mister this morning +that I’m so glad for Martin I feel like makin’ +something extra for supper and ask you up for you ain’t +been here for a meal for long.”</p> + +<p>“It’s grand to ask me to it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, we don’t mind you. +You’re just like one of the family, abody might +say. We won’t fix like for company, eat in the +room or anything like that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I hope not. I’m +no company. Let’s eat in the kitchen and have +everything just as you do when the family’s alone.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Landis. “That +will be more homelike.”</p> + +<p>Mary helped to set the table in the big kitchen.</p> + +<p align="left">“Shall I lay the spoons on the +table-cloth like we did when Isabel was here?” +she asked her mother.</p> + +<p align="left">“Better put them in the spoon-holder,” +Amanda told her. “I’m no company.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m glad you ain’t. +I don’t like tony company like that girl was. +She put on too much when she talked. And she had the +funniest cheeks! Once she wiped her face when it was +hot and pink came off on her handkerchief.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda laughed and kept smiling as +she helped the child set the table for supper. Later +she offered her services to Mrs. Landis. Martin, coming +in from the dusty road, found her before the stove, +one of his mother’s gingham aprons tied around +her waist, and turning sweet potatoes in a big iron +pan.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, hello!” he said, +pleasure written in his face. “Katie ran to meet +me and said I couldn’t guess who was here for +supper. Has Mother got you working? Um,” he +sniffed, “smells awful much like chicken!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” his mother told +him, “you just hold your nose shut a while! You +and your pop can smell chicken off a mile. But you +dare ring the supper bell, Martin, before you go up-stairs +to wash, so your pop and the boys can come in now +and get ready, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">Soon the savory, smoking dishes were +all placed on the big table in the kitchen and the +family with their guest gathered for the meal.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ain’t I dare keep my +coat off, Mom?” asked Mr. Landis, his face flushed +from a long hot day in the fields.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, if Amanda don’t care.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why should I? Look at my cool +dress! Take your coat off, Martin. I never could see +why men should roast while we keep comfortable.”</p> + +<p align="left">As Martin stripped the serge coat +off he thought of that other dinner when coats were +kept on and dinner eaten in “the room” +because of the presence of one who might take offense +if she were expected to share the plain, every-day +ways of the family. What a fool he had been! Their +best efforts at style and convention must have looked +very amateurish and incomplete to her--what a fool +he had been!</p> + +<p align="left">“Ah, that looks good!” +Mr. Landis said after he had said grace and everybody +waited for the food to be passed. “Now we’ll +just hand the platter around and let everybody help +themselves, not so, Mom?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, that’s all right. +Start the potatoes once, Martin. Now you must eat, +Amanda. Just make yourself right at home.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin, you must eat hearty, +too,”, said the father. “Your mom made +this supper for you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“For me? What’s the idea? +Feeding the prodigal? Fatted calf and all that, Mother?” +the boy asked, smiling,</p> + +<p align="left">“Calf--nothing!” exclaimed +little Charlie. “It’s them two roosters +Mom said long a’ready she’s goin’ +to kill once and cook and here they are!”</p> + +<p align="left">Charlie wondered why everybody laughed +at that but he soon forgot about it as his mother +handed him a plate piled high with food.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda scarcely knew what she was +eating that day. Each mouthful had the taste of nectar +and ambrosia to her. If she could <i>belong</i> to +a family like that! She adored her own people and felt +certain that no one could wish for a finer family +than the one in which she had been placed, but it +seemed, by comparison with the Landis one, a very small, +quiet family. She wished she could be a part of both, +make the twelfth in that charming circle in which +she sat that day.</p> + +<p align="left">After supper Mrs. Landis turned to +Amanda--"Now you stay a while and hear our new pieces +on the Victrola.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll help you with the dishes,” +she offered.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, no, it ain’t necessary. +Mary and I will get them done up in no time. You just +go in the room and enjoy yourself.”</p> + +<p align="left">With little Katie leading the way +and Martin following Amanda went to the sitting-room +and sat down while Martin opened the Victrola.</p> + +<p align="left">“What do you like?” he +asked. “Something lively? Or do you like soft +music better?”</p> + +<p>“I like both. What are your new pieces?”</p> + +<p>“McCormack singing ‘Mother Machree---’”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I like that! Play that!”</p> + +<p align="left">As the soft, haunting melody of “Mother +Machree” sounded in the room Mrs. Landis came +to the door of the sitting-room, dish towel in hand.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” she said after +the last verse, “I got that record most wore +out a’ready. Ain’t it the prettiest song? +When I hear that I think still that if only one of +my nine children feels that way about me I’m +more than paid for any bother I had with them.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then, Mother,” said Martin, +“you should feel more than nine times paid, +for we all feel that way about you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Listen, now!” The mother’s +eyes were misty as she looked at her first-born. +“Ach, play it again. I only hope poor Becky knows +how much good her money’s doin’ us!”</p> + +<p align="left">Later Martin walked with Amanda up +the moonlit road to her home. “I’ve had +a lovely time, Martin,” she told him. “You +do have the nicest, lively family! I wish we had a +tableful like that!”</p> + +<p align="left">“You wouldn’t wish it +at dish-washing time, I bet! But they are a lively +bunch. I wonder sometimes how Mother escapes <i>nerves</i>. +If she feels irritable or tired she seldom shows it. +I believe six of us can ask her questions at once +and she knows how to answer each in its turn. But +Mother never does much useless worrying. That keeps +her youthful and calm. She has often said to us, ’What’s +the use of worrying? Worrying never gets you anywhere +except into hot water--so what’s the use of +it?’ That’s a pet philosophy of hers.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I remember that. I’ve +heard her say it. Your mother’s wonderful!”</p> + +<p align="left">“She thinks the same about you, +Amanda, for she said so the other day.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Me?” The girl turned +her face from him so that the moonlight might not +reveal her joy.</p> + +<p align="left">“You,” he said happily, +laughing in boyish contentment. “We think Amanda +Reist is all right.”</p> + +<p align="left">The girl was glad they had reached +the gate of her home. She fumbled with the latch and +escaped an answer to the man’s words. Then they +spoke commonplace good-nights and parted.</p> + +<p align="left">That night as she brushed her hair +she stood a long time before the mirror. “Amanda +Reist,” she said to the image in the glass, “you +better take care--next thing you know you’ll +be falling in love!” She leaned closer to the +glass. “Oh, I’ll have to keep that shine +from my eyes! It’s there just because Martin +walked home with me and was kind. I don’t look +as though I need any boneset tea <i>now!"</i></p> + +<a name="ch21"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXI</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Berrying</h2> + +<p align="left">The next morning Amanda helped her +mother with the Saturday baking while Millie and Uncle +Amos tended market.</p> + +<p align="left">“This hot weather the pies get +soft till Sunday if we bake them a’ready on +Friday,” Mrs. Reist said to Millie, “so +Amanda and I can do the bakin’ while you go +to market. I guess we’ll have a lot of company +again this Sunday, with church near here.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, let ’em come,” +said the hired girl composedly. “I don’t +care if you don’t. It’s a good thing we +all like company pretty good, for I think sometimes +people take this place for a regular boarding-house, +the way they drop in at any time, just as like when +we’re ready to set down for a meal as at any +other hour. Philip said last week, when that Sallie +Snyder dropped in just at dinner, that he’s goin’ +to paint a sign, ‘Mad Dog,’ and hang it +on the gate. But I think we might as well put one +up, ‘Meals served at all hours,’ but ach, +that’s Lancaster County for you!”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist liked to do her baking +early in the day. So it happened that when Martin +Landis stopped in to see Amanda before he went to his +work in the city he saw on the kitchen table a long +row of pies ready for the oven and Amanda deftly rolling +the edge of another.</p> + +<p align="left">“Whew!” he whistled. “Mrs. +Reist, is that your work or Amanda’s so early +in the morning?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Amanda’s! My granny used +to say still that no girl was ready to get married +till she could roll out a thin pie dough. I guess my +girl is almost ready, for she got hers nice and thin +this morning. Ach,” she thought in dismay as +she saw the girl’s face flush, “now why +did I say that? I didn’t think how it would +sound. But Amanda needn’t mind Martin!”</p> + +<p align="left">Merry little twinkles played around +Martin’s gray eyes as he answered, “I +see. Looks as if Amanda’s ready for a husband--if +she’s going to feed him on pies!”</p> + +<p align="left">“On pies--Martin Landis!” +scorned the girl. “I’d have a dyspeptic +on my hands after a few days of pie diet.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you’d make a pretty good nurse, +I believe.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Nurse--not me! The only thing +I know how to nurse is hurt birds and lame bunnies +and such things. You just lay them in a box and feed +them, and if they get well you clap your hands, and +if they die you put some leaves and flowers on them +and bury them out in the woods--remember how we used +to do that?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Do I? I should say I do! The +time we had the fence hackey that Lyman Mertzheimer +hurt with a stone--”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, and I nursed him and fed +him, and when I let him go he bit my finger! I remember +that! I was so cross at him I cried.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Wretch that he was,” +said Martin. “But if we begin talking about those +days I won’t get to work. I stopped in to ask +you to go berrying with us this afternoon. I get out +of the bank early. We can go up to the woods back +of the schoolhouse. The youngsters are anxious to go, +and Mother won’t let them go alone, since that +copperhead was killed near here. I promised to take +them, and we’d all like to have you come.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d love to go. I’ll +be all ready. I haven’t gone for blackberries +all season.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s true, we’ve +been missing lots of fun.” He looked at her as +though he were seeing her after a long absence. Somehow, +he had missed something worth while from his life +during the time his head had been turned by Isabel, +and he had passed Amanda with a smile and a greeting +and had no hours of companionship with her. Why, he +didn’t remember that her eyes were so bright, +that her red hair waved so becomingly, that--</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll bring a kettle,” +she said. “I’m going to pick till I fill +it, too, just as we did when we were youngsters.”</p> + +<p>“All right. We’ll meet you at the schoolhouse.”</p> + +<p align="left">The spur of mountains near Crow Hill +was a favorite berrying range for the people of that +section of Lancaster County. In July and August huckleberries, +elders and blackberries grew there in fragrant luxuriance.</p> + +<p align="left">When Amanda, in an old dress of cool +green, a wide-brimmed hat on her head, came in sight +of the schoolhouse, she saw the Landis party approaching +it from the other direction. She swung her tin pail +in greeting.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, there’s Amanda!” +the children shouted and ran to meet her, tin pails +clanging and dust flying.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin, too, wore old clothes that +would be none the worse for meeting with briars or +crushed berries. A wide straw hat perched on his head +made Amanda think, “He looks like a grown-up +edition of Whittier’s Barefoot Boy.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Here we are, all ready,” +said the leader, as they started off to the crude +rail fence. Martin would have helped Amanda over the +fence, but she ran from him, put up one foot, and +was over it in a trice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Still a nimble-toes,” +he said, laughing. “Mary, can you do as well?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Pooh, yes! Who can’t +climb a fence?” The little girl was over it in +a minute. The smaller children lay flat on the ground +and squirmed through under the lower rail, while one +of the boys climbed up, balanced himself on the top +rail, then leaped into the grass.</p> + +<p align="left">“I see some berries!” +cried Katie, and began to pick them.</p> + +<p align="left">“We’ll go in farther,” +said Martin. “The bushes near the road have been +almost stripped. Come on, keep on the path and watch +out for snakes.”</p> + +<p align="left">There was a well-defined, narrow trail +through the timbered land. Though the weeds had been +trodden down along each side of it there were dense +portions where snakes might have found an ideal home. +After a long walk the little party was in the heart +of the woods and blackberry bushes, dark with clusters, +waited for their hands. Berries soon rattled in the +tin pails, though at first many a handful was eaten +and lips were stained red by the sweet juice. They +wandered from bush to bush, picking busily, with many +exclamations--"Oh, look what a big bunch!” “My +pail’s almost full!” Little Katie and Charlie +soon grew tired of the picking and wandered around +the path in search of treasures. They found them--three +pretty blue feathers, dropped, no doubt, by some screaming +blue jay, a handful of green acorns in their little +cups, a few pebbles that appealed to them, one lone, +belated anemone, blooming months after its season.</p> + +<p align="left">The pails were almost filled and the +party was moving up the woods to another patch of +berries when little Mary turned to Amanda and said, +“Ach, Amanda, tell us that story about the Bear +Charm Song.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, do!” seconded Charlie. +“The one you told us once in school last winter.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda smiled, and as the little party +walked along close together through the woods, she +began:</p> + +<p>“Once the Indians lived where we are living +now---”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, did they?” interrupted +Charlie. “Real Indians, with bows and arrows +and all?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, real Indians, bows and +arrows and all! They owned all the land before the +white man came and drove them off. But now the Indians +are far away from here and they are different from +the ones we read about in the history books. The Indians +now are more like the poor birds people put in cages---” +Her eyes gleamed and her face grew eloquent with expression +as she thought of the gross injustice meted out to +some of the red men in this land of the free.</p> + +<p align="left">“Go on, Manda, go on with the +story,” cried the children. Only Martin had +seen the look in her eyes, that mother-look of compassion.</p> + +<p>“Very well, I’ll go on.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And, Charlie,” said Mary, +“you keep quiet now and don’t break in +when Manda talks.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” the story-teller +resumed, “the Indians who lived out in the woods, +far from towns or cities, had to find all their own +food. They caught fish, shot animals and birds, planted +corn and gathered berries. Some of them they ate at +once, but many of them they dried and stored away +for winter use. While the older Indians did harder +work, the little Indian children ran off to the woods +and gathered the berries. But one thing they had to +look out for--bears! Great big bears lived in the +woods and they are very fond of sweet things. The bears +would amble along, peel great handfuls of ripe berries +from the bushes with their big clawed paws and eat +them. So all good Indian mothers taught their children +a Bear Charm Song to sing as they gathered berries. +Whenever the bears heard the Bear Charm Song they +went to some other part of the woods and left the +children to pick their berries unharmed. But once +there was a little Indian boy who wouldn’t mind +his mother. He went to the woods one day to gather +berries, but he wouldn’t sing the Bear Charm +Song, not he! So he picked berries and picked berries, +and all of a sudden a great big bear stood by him. +Then the little Indian boy, who wouldn’t mind +his mother, began to sing the Bear Charm Song. But +it was too late. The great big bear put his big paws +around the little boy and squeezed him, squeezed him, +tighter and tighter and tighter--till the little boy +who wouldn’t mind his mother was changed into +a tiny black bat. Then he flew back to his mother, +but she didn’t know him, and so she chased him +and said, ’Go away! Little black bird of the +night, go away!’ And that is where the bats +first came from.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ain’t that a good story?” +said Charlie as Amanda ended. “Tell us another.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Not now. Perhaps after a while,” +she promised. “Here’s another patch of +berries. Shall we pick here?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, fill the pails,” +said Martin, “then we’ll be ready for the +next number on the program. It seems Amanda’s +the committee of one to entertain us.”</p> + +<p align="left">But the next number on the program +was furnished by an unexpected participant. The berrying +party was busy picking when a crash was heard as if +some heavy body were running wild through the leaves +and sticks of the woods near by.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” cried Charlie, “I +bet that’s a bear! Manda, sing a Bear Charm +Song!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” echoed Katie in +alarm, and ran to the side of Amanda, while Martin +lifted his head and stood, alert, looking into the +woods in the direction of the noise. The crashing +drew nearer, and then the figure of a man came running +wildly through the bushes, waving his hands frantically +in the air, then pressing them to his face.</p> + +<p>“It’s Lyman Mertzheimer!” Amanda +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“With hornets after him,” added Martin.</p> + +<p>The children, reassured, ran to the newcomer.</p> + +<p align="left">It was Lyman Mertzheimer, his face +distorted and swollen, his necktie streaming from +one shoulder, where he had torn it in a mad effort +to beat off the angry hornets whose nest he had disturbed +out of sheer joy in the destruction and an audacious +idea that no insect could scare him away or worst +him in a fight. He had underestimated the fiery temper +of the hornets and their concentrated and persistent +methods of defending their home. After he had run +wildly through the woods for fifteen minutes and struck +out repeatedly the insects left him, just as he reached +the berrying party. But the hornets had wreaked their +anger upon him; face, hands and neck bore evidence +of the battle they had waged.</p> + +<p align="left">“First time hornets got me!” +he said crossly as he neared the little party. “Oh, +you needn’t laugh!” he cried in angry tones +as Charlie snickered.</p> + +<p>“But you look funny--all blotchy.”</p> + +<p align="left">The stung man allowed his anger to +burst out in oaths. “Guess you think it’s +funny, too,” he said to Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“No. I’m sure it hurts,” +she said, though she knew he deserved no pity from +her.</p> + +<p align="left">“We all know that it hurts,” +said Martin. But there was scant sympathy in his voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Smear mud on,” suggested +Mary. “Once I got stung by a bumblebee when +he went in a hollyhock and I held the flower shut so +he couldn’t get out, and he stung me through +the flower. Mom put mud on and it helped.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mud!” stormed Lyman, +stepping about in the bush and twisting his head in +pain. “There isn’t any mud in Lancaster +County now. The whole place is dry as punk!”</p> + +<p align="left">“If you had some of the mud +you slung at me recently it would come in handy now,” +Martin could not refrain from saying.</p> + +<p align="left">Another oath greeted his words. Then +the stung young man started off down the road to find +relief from his smarts, ignoring the fling.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” said Amanda, “well, +of all things! For him to tackle a hornets’ +nest! Just for the fun of it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“But he got his come-uppance +for once! Got it from the hornets,” said Martin. +“Serves him right.”</p> + +<p align="left">“But that hurts,” said +Mary sympathetically. “Hornets hurt awful bad!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” said Martin as +they turned homeward. “But he’s getting +paid for all the mean tricks he’s played on +other people.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mebbe God made the hornets +sting him if he’s a bad man,” said Charlie.</p> + +<p align="left">“We all get what we give out,” +agreed Martin. “Lyman Mertzheimer will feel +those hornet stings for a few days. While I’ve +always been taught not to rejoice at the misfortunes +of others I’m not sorry I saw him. I’ll +call our account square now. You pitied him, didn’t +you?” he asked Amanda suddenly. “I saw +it in your eyes. So did Mary and Katie.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Of course I pitied him,” +she confessed. “I’d feel sorry for anything +or anybody who suffers. I know it serves him right, +that he’s earned worse than that, and yet I +would have relieved him if I could have done so. Nature +meant that we should be decent, I suppose.”</p> + +<p align="left">The man was thoughtful for a moment. +“Yes, I suppose so. It is a woman’s nature.”</p> + +<p>“Would you have us different?”</p> + +<p align="left">“No--no--we wouldn’t have +you different. Many of the best men would be mere +brutes if women’s pity and tenderness and forgiveness +were taken out of their lives--we wouldn’t have +you different.”</p> + +<a name="ch22"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">On the Mountain Top</h2> + +<p align="left">The following Sunday at noon Martin +passed the Reist farmhouse as he drove his mother +and several of the children to Mennonite church at +Landisville. After the service he passed that way again +and noticed several cars stopping at Reists’. +Evidently they were entertaining a number of visitors +for Sunday dinner after the service, as is the custom +in rural Lancaster County. The big porch was filled +with people who rocked or leaned idly against the +pillars, while in the big kitchen Millie, Amanda and +Mrs. Reist worked near the hot stove and prepared an +appetizing dinner for them.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda did not shirk her portion of +the necessary work, but rebellion was in her heart +as she noted her mother’s flushed, tired face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother, if you’d only +feel that Millie and I could get the dinner without +you! It’s a shame to have you in this kitchen +on a day like this!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I’m not so hot. +I’m not better than you or Millie,” the +mother insisted, and stuck to her post, while Amanda +murmured, “This Sunday visiting--how I hate +it! We’ve outgrown the need of it now, especially +with automobiles.”</p> + +<p align="left">But at length the meal was placed +upon the table, the guests gathered from porches and +lawn and an hour later the dishes were washed and +everything at peace once more in the kitchen. Then +Amanda walked out to the garden at the rear of the +house.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ooh,” she sighed in relief, +“I’m glad that’s over! Visiting on +such a day should be made a misdemeanor!” She +pulled idly on a zinnia that lifted its globular red +head in the hot August sun.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hey, Sis,” came Phil’s +voice to her, “he wants you on the ’phone!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Who’s he?” she +asked as the boy ran out to her in the garden.</p> + +<p>They turned to the house, talking as they went.</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, Sis, you know who <i>he</i> +is! He’s coming round here all the time lately.”</p> + +<p align="left">A gentle shove from the girl rewarded +the boy for his teasing, but he was not easily daunted. +“Don’t you remember,” he said, “how +that old Mrs. Haldeman who kept tine candy store near +the market house in Lancaster used to call her husband +<i>he</i>? She never called him Mister or Mr. Haldeman, +just <i>he</i>, and you could feel she would have +written it in italics if she could.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, that was all right, there +was only one <i>he</i> in the world so far as she +was concerned. But do you remember, Phil, the time +Mother took us in her store to buy candy and we talked +to her canary and the old woman said, ’Ach, +yes, I think still how good birds got it! I often +wish I was a canary, but then he would have to be one +too!’ We disgraced Mother by giggling fit to +kill ourselves. But the old woman just smiled at us +and gave us each a pink and white striped peppermint +stick. Now run along, Phil, don’t be eavesdropping,” +she said as they reached the hall and she sat down +to answer the telephone.</p> + +<p>“That you, Amanda?” came over the wire.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Got a houseful of company? +It seemed like that when we drove past. Overflow meeting +on the porch!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, as usual.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What I wanted to know is--are +there any young people among the visitors, that makes +it a matter of courtesy for you to stay at home all +afternoon?”</p> + +<p>“No, they are all older people to-day, and a +few little children.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good! Then how would you like +to have a little picnic, just we two? I want to get +away from Victrola music and children’s questions +and four walls, and I thought you might have a similar +longing.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mental telepathy, Martin! That’s +just what I was thinking as I was out in the garden.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then I’ll call for you +and we’ll go up past the sandpit to that hilltop +where the breeze blows even on a day like this.”</p> + +<p align="left">When Martin came for her she was ready, +a lunch tucked under one arm, two old pillows in the +other. She had given the red hair a few pats, added +several hairpins, slipped off her white dress and buttoned +up a pale green chambray one with cool white collar +and cuffs. She stood ready, attractive, as Martin +entered the lawn.</p> + +<p align="left">“Say!” he whistled. “You +did that in short order! I thought it took girls hours +to dress.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then you’re like Solomon; +you can’t understand the ways of women!” +She laughed as she handed him the lunch-box.</p> + +<p align="left">Her calm efficiency puzzled him. Lately +he was discovering so many undreamed of qualities +in this lively friend of his childhood. He was beginning +to feel some of the wonder those people must have felt +whose children played with pebbles that were one day +discovered to be priceless uncut diamonds. Until that +day she had found him prostrate in her moccasin woods +he had thought of her as just Amanda Reist, a nice, +jolly girl with a quick temper if you tried her too +hard and a quick tongue to express it, but a good +comrade and a pleasant companion if you treated her +fairly.</p> + +<p align="left">Then his attitude had undergone a +change. After that day of his great unhappiness he +thought of her as a woman, staunch, courageous, yet +gentle and feminine, one who had faith in her old friend, +who could comfort a man when he was downcast and help +him raise his head again. A wonderful woman she was! +One who loved pretty clothes and things modern and +yet appreciated the charm of the old-fashioned, and +seemed to dovetail perfectly into the plain grooves +of her people and his with their quaint old dress +and houses and manners. A woman, too, who had an intense +love for the great outdoors. Not the shallow, pretentious +love that would call forth gushing rhapsodies about +moonlight or sunsets or the spectacular alone in nature, +but a sincere, deep-rooted love that shone in her +eyes as she stooped to see more plainly the tracery +of veins in a fallen leaf and moved her to gentle +speech to the birds, butterflies and woodland creatures +as though they could understand and answer.</p> + +<p align="left">As they walked down the country road +he looked at her. He had a way of noticing women’s +clothes and had become an observant judge of their +becomingness. In her growing-up days Amanda had been +frequently angered by his frank, unsolicited remarks +about the colors she wore--this blue was off color +for her red hair, or that golden brown was just the +thing. Later she grew accustomed to his remarks and +rather expected them. They still disconcerted her +at times, but she had long ago ceased to grow angry +about them.</p> + +<p align="left">“That green’s the color +for you to-day,” he said, as they went along. +“Do you know, I’ve often thought I’d +like to see you in a black gown and a string of real +jade beads around your neck.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Jade! Was there ever a red +head who didn’t wish she had a string of jade +beads?”</p> + +<p>“You’d be great!”</p> + +<p align="left">“So would the price,” +she told him, laughing. “A string of real jade +would cost as much as a complete outfit of clothes +I wear.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Then you should have black +hair and cheap coral ones would do.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, Martin,” she said +in surprise, “you <i>are</i> studying color +combinations, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, not exactly; I’m +not interested in all colors. But say, that reminds +me--I saw a girl in Lancaster last winter who had hair +like yours and about the same coloring. She wore a +brown suit and brown hat and furs--it was great.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d like to have that.” +Daughter of Eve! She liked it because he did! “But +don’t speak about furs on a day like this! It’s +hot--too hot, Martin, for a houseful of company, don’t +you think so?”</p> + +<p>“It is hot to stand and cook for extra people.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, perhaps it’s wicked, +but I hate this Sunday visiting the people of Lancaster +County indulge in! I never did like it!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m not keen about it +myself. Sunday seems to me to be a day to go to church +and rest and enjoy your family, sometimes to go off +to the woods like this. But a houseful of buzzing +visitors swarming through it-- whew! it does spoil +the Sabbath.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I never did like to visit,” +confessed the girl. “Not unless I went to people +I really cared for. When we were little and Mother +would take Phil and me to visit relatives or friends +I merely liked I’d be there a little while and +then I’d tug at Mother’s skirt and beg, +’Mom, we want to go home.’ I suppose I +spoiled many a visit for her. I was self-willed even +then.”</p> + +<p align="left">“You are a stubborn person,” +he said, with so different a meaning that Amanda flushed.</p> + +<p>“I know I am. And I have a nasty temper, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Don’t you know,” +he consoled her, “that a temper controlled makes +a strong personality? George Washington had one, the +history books say, but he made it serve him.”</p> + +<p align="left">“And that’s no easy achievement.” +The girl spoke from her own experience. “It’s +like pulling molars to press your lips together and +be quiet when you want to rear and tear and stamp your +feet.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, come down to hard facts, +and how many of us will have to admit that we have +feelings like that at times? There is still a good +share of the primitive man left in our natures. We’re +not saints. Why, even the churches that believe in +saints don’t canonize mortals until they have +been a hundred years dead--they want to be sure they +are dead and their mortal weaknesses forgotten.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda laughed. A moment later they +turned from the country road and followed a narrower +path that was bordered on one side by green fields +and on the other by a strip of woods, an irregular +arm reaching out from Amanda’s moccasin haunt. +The road led up-hill at a sharp angle, so that when +the traveler reached the top, panting and tired, there +stretched before him in delightful panorama a view +of Lancaster County that more than compensated for +the discomfort and effort of the climb.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda and Martin stood facing that +sight. Behind them lay the cool, tree-clad hill, before +them the blue August sky looked down on Lancaster +County farms, whose houses and red barns seemed dropped +like kindergarten toys into the midst of undulating +green fields. One could sit or stand under the sheltering +shade of the trees along the edge of the woods and +yet look up to the sky or out upon the Garden Spot +and farther off, to the blue, hazy mountain ridge +that touched the sky-line and cut off the view of +what lay beyond.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin threw the pillows on the ground +and they sat down in the cool shade.</p> + +<p align="left">“Can anything beat this?” +he asked lazily as he ruffled the dry leaves about +him with his hands. “You know, Amanda, I could +never understand why, with my love for outdoors, I +can’t be a farmer. When I was a boy I used to +consider it the natural thing for me to do as my father +did. I did help him, but I never liked the work. You +couldn’t coax the other boys to the city; they’d +rather pitch hay or plant corn. And yet I like nothing +better than to be out in the open. During the summer +I’m out in the garden after I come home from +the city, and that much of working the soil I like, +but for a steady job--not for me!”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s best to do work +one likes,” said the girl. “Not every person +who likes outdoors was meant to be a farmer. Be glad +you like to be out in the open. But I can’t +conceive of any person not liking it. I could sit +and look at the sky for one whole day. It’s so +encouraging. Sometimes when I walk home from school +after a hard day and I look down on the road and think +over the problems of handling certain trying children +so as to get the best out of them and the latent best +in them developed, I look up all of a sudden and the +sky is so wonderful that, somehow, my troubles seem +trivial. It’s just as though the sky were saying, +’Child, you’ve been looking down so long +and worrying about little things that you’ve +forgotten that the sky is blue and the clouds are still +sailing over you.’ And, Martin, don’t +you like the stars? I never get tired of looking at +them. I never care to gaze at the full moon unless +there are clouds sailing over her. She’s too +big and brazen, too compelling. But the twinkle of +the stars and the sudden flashing out of dim ones you +didn’t see at first always makes me feel like +singing. Ever feel that way?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but I couldn’t put it all into words +like that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ah,” he thought, “she +has the mind of a poet, the heart of a child, the +soul of a woman.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I read somewhere,” she +went on, as though certain of his understanding and +sharing her mood, “that the Pagans said man was +made to stand upright so that he might raise his face +to heaven and his eyes to the stars. Somehow, it seems +those old Pagans had a finer conception of many vital +truths than some of us have in this age.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s true. We have +them beaten in many ways, but when we come across +a thing like that we stop to think and wonder where +they got it. I always did like mythology. Pandora +and her box, Clytie and her emblem of constancy, and +Ulysses--what schoolboy escaped the thrills of Ulysses? +I bet you pitied Orpheus!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I did! But aren’t we +serious for a picnic? Next thing we know one of us +will be saying thirdly, fourthly, or amen!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t know--it suits +me. You’re so sensible, Amanda, it’s a +pleasure to talk with you. Most girls are so frothy.”</p> + +<p align="left">“No disparaging remarks about +our sex,” she said lightly, “or I’ll +retaliate.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Go on,” he challenged, +“I dare you to! What’s the worst fault +in mere man?”</p> + +<p align="left">She raised her hand in protest. “I +wash my hands of that! But I will say that if most +girls are frothy, as you say, it’s because most +men seem to like them that way. Confess now, how many +shallow, frothy girls grow into old maids? It’s +generally the butterfly that occasions the merry chase, +straw hats out to catch it. You seldom see a straw +hat after a bee.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Amanda, that’s not +fair, not like you!” But he thought ruefully +of Isabel and her butterfly attractions. “I +admit we follow the butterflies but sometimes we wake +up and see our folly. True, men don’t chase +honeybees, but they have a wholesome respect for them +and build houses for them. After all, the real men +generally appreciate the real women. Sometimes the +appreciation comes too late for happiness, but it +seldom fails to come. No matter how appearances belie +it, it’s a fact, nevertheless, that in this +crazy world of to-day the sincere, real girl is still +appreciated. The frilly Gladys, Gwendolyns and What-nots +still have to yield first place to the old-fashioned +Rebeccas, Marys and Amandas.”</p> + +<p align="left">Her heart thumped at the words. She +became flustered and said the first thing that came +into her head to say, “I like that, calling me +old-fashioned! But we won’t quarrel about it. +Let’s eat our lunch; that will keep us from +too much talking for a while.”</p> + +<p align="left">Martin handed her the box. He was +silent as she opened it. She noted his preoccupation, +his gray eyes looking off to the distant fields.</p> + +<p align="left">“Come back to earth!” +she ordered. “What are you dreaming about?”</p> + +<p align="left">“I was just thinking that you +<i>are</i> old-fashioned. I’m glad you are.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I’m not!” +she retorted. “Come on, eat. I just threw in +some rolls and cold chicken and pickles and a few +peaches.”</p> + +<p align="left">The man turned and gave his attention +to the lunch and ate with evident enjoyment, but several +times Amanda felt his keen eyes scrutinizing her face. +“What ails him?” she thought.</p> + +<p align="left">“This is great, this is just +the thing!” he told her several times during +the time of lunch. “Let’s do this often, +come up here where the air is pure.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right,” she agreed +readily. “It will do you good to get up in the +hills. I don’t see how you stand being housed +in a city in the summer! It must be like those awful +days in the early spring or in the fall when I’m +in the schoolroom and rebel because I want to be outdoors. +I rebel every minute when the weather is nice, do +it subconsciously while I’m teaching the states +and capitals or hearing tables or giving out spelling +words. Something just keeps saying inside of me, ’I +want to be out, want to be out, be out, be out!’ +It’s a wonder I don’t say it out loud +sometimes.”</p> + +<p align="left">“If you did you’d hear +a mighty echo, I bet! Every kid in the room would +say it after you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, I’m sure of that. +I feel like a slave driver when I make them study +on days that were made for the open. But it’s +the only way, I suppose. We have to learn to knuckle +very early.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, but it’s a great +old world, just the same, don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s the only one I ever +tried, so I’m satisfied to stay on it a while +longer,” she told him.</p> + +<p align="left">They laughed at that as only Youth +can laugh at remarks that are not clever, only interesting +to each other because of the personality of the speaker.</p> + +<p align="left">So the afternoon passed and the two +descended again to the dusty country road, each feeling +refreshed and stimulated by the hours spent together.</p> + +<a name="ch23"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXIII</h1> + +<h2 align="center">Tests</h2> + +<p align="left">That September Amanda began her third +year of teaching at Crow Hill.</p> + +<p align="left">“I declare,” Millie said, +“how quick the time goes! Here’s your third +year o’ teachin’ started a’ready. +A body gets old fast.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ll soon be an old maid school +teacher.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, mebbe not!” The +hired girl had lost none of her frankness. “I +notice that Mart Landis sneaks round here a good bit +this while past.”</p> + +<p>“Ach, Millie, he’s not here often.”</p> + +<p align="left">“No, o’ course not! He +just stops in in the afternoon about every other day +with a book or something of excuse like that, and about +every other day in the morning he’s likely to +happen to drop in to get the book back, and then in +between that he comes and you go out for a walk after +flowers or birds or something, and then between times +there he comes with something his mom told him to +ask or bring or something like that --no, o’ +course not, he don’t come often! Not at all! +I guess he’s just neighborly, ain’t, Amanda?” +Millie chuckled at her own wit and Amanda could not +long keep a frown upon her face.</p> + +<p align="left">“Of course, Millie,” she +said with an assumed air of indifference, “the +Landis people have always been neighborly. Pennsylvania +Dutch are great for that.”</p> + +<p align="left">It was not from Millie alone that +Amanda had to take teasing. Philip, always ready for +amusement, was at times almost insufferable in the +opinion of his sister.</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s the matter with +Mart Landis’s home?” the boy asked innocently +one day at the supper table.</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Uncle Amos. “I’ll +bite.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, he seems to be out of +it a great deal; he spends half of his time in our +house. I think, Uncle Amos, as head of the house here, +you should ask him what his intentions are.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Phil!” Amanda’s +protest was vehement. “You make me as tired as +some other people round here do. As soon as a man +walks down the road with a girl the whole matter is +settled--they’ll surely marry soon! It would +be nice if people would attend to their own affairs.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Makes me tired too,” +said Philip fervently. “Last week I met that +Sarah from up the road and naturally walked to the +car with her. You all know what a fright she is--cross-eyed, +pigeon-toed, and as brilliant mentally as a dark night +in the forest. When I got into the car I heard some +one say, ’Did you see Philip Reist with that +girl? I wonder if he keeps company with her.’ +Imagine!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Serves you right,” Amanda +told him with impish delight. “I hope every +cross-eyed, pigeon-toed girl in the county meets you +and walks with you!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Feel better now, Sis?” +His grin brought laughter to the crowd and Amanda’s +peeved feeling was soon gone.</p> + +<p align="left">It was true, Martin Landis spent many +hours at the Reist farmhouse. He seemed filled with +an insatiable desire for the companionship of Amanda. +Scarcely a day passed without some glimpse of him at +the Reist home.</p> + +<p align="left">Just what that companionship meant +to the young man he did not stop to analyze at first. +He knew he was happy with Amanda, enjoyed her conversation, +felt a bond between them in their love for the vast +outdoors, but he never went beyond that. Until one +day in early November when he was walking down the +lonely road after a pleasant evening with Amanda. +He paused once to look up at the stars, remembering +what the girl had said concerning them, how they comforted +and inspired her. A sudden rush of feeling came to +him as he leaned on the rail fence and looked up.... +“Look here,” he told himself, “it’s +time you take account of yourself. What’s all +this friendship with your old companion leading to? +Do you love Amanda?” The “stars in their +courses” seemed to twinkle her name, every leafless +tree along the road she loved seemed to murmur it +to him--Amanda! It was suddenly the sweetest name +in the whole world to him!</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, I know it now!” he +said softly to himself under the quiet sky. “I +love her! What a woman she is! What a heart she has, +what a heart! I want her for my wife; she’s +the only one I want to have with me ’Till death +us do part’--that’s a fair test. Why, I’ve +been wondering why I enjoyed each minute with her +and just longed to get to see her as often as possible--fool, +not to recognize love when it came to me! But I know +it now! I’m as sure of it as I am sure those +stars, her stars, are shining up there in the sky.”</p> + +<p align="left">As he stood a moment silently looking +into the starry heavens some portion of an old story +came to him. “My love is as fair as the stars +and well-nigh as remote and inaccessible.” Could +he win the love of a girl like Amanda Reist? She gave +him her friendship freely, would she give her love +also? A woman like Amanda could never be satisfied +with half-gods, she would love as she did everything +else--intensely, entirely! He remembered reading that +propinquity often led people into mistakes, that constant +companionship was liable to awaken a feeling that +might masquerade as love. Well, he’d be fair +to her, he’d let separation prove his love.</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s just what I’ll +do,” he decided. “Next week I’m to +go on my vacation and I’ll be gone two weeks. +I’ll not write to her and of course I won’t +see her. Perhaps ’Absence will make the heart +grow fonder’ with her. I hope so! It will be +a long two weeks for me, but when I come back--” +He flung out his arms to the night as though they +could bring to him at once the form of the one he loved.</p> + +<p align="left">So it happened that after a very commonplace +goodbye given to Amanda in the presence of the entire +Reist household Martin Landis left Lancaster County +a few weeks before Thanksgiving and journeyed to South +Carolina to spend a quiet vacation at a mountain resort.</p> + +<p align="left">To Amanda Reist, pegging away in the +schoolroom during the gray November days, his absence +caused depression. He had said nothing about letters +but she naturally expected them, friendly little notes +to tell her what he was doing and how he was enjoying +the glories of the famous mountains of the south. +But no letters came from Martin.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” she bit her lip +after a week had gone and he was still silent. “I +won’t care! He writes home; the children tell +me he says the scenery is so wonderful where he is--why +can’t he send me just one little note? But I’m +not going to care. I’ve been a fool long enough. +I should know by this time that it’s a case +of ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ I’m +about done with castles in Spain! All my sentimental +dreams about my knight, all my rosy visions are, after +all, of that substance of which all dreams are made. +I suppose if I had been practical and sensible like +other girls I could have made myself like Lyman Mertzheimer +or some other ordinary country boy and settled down +into a contented woman on a farm. Why couldn’t +I long ago have put away my girlish illusions about +knights and castles in Spain? I wonder if, after all, +gold eagles are better and more to be desired than +the golden roofs of our dream castles? If an automobile +like Lyman Mertzheimer drives is not to be preferred +to Sir Galahad’s pure white steed! I’ve +clung to my romanticism and what has it brought me? +It might have been wiser to let go my dreams, sweep +the illusions from my eyes and settle down to a sordid, +everyday existence as the wife of some man, like Lyman +Mertzheimer, who has no eye for the beauties of nature +but who has two eyes for me.”</p> + +<p align="left">Poor Amanda, destruction of her dream +castles was perilously imminent! The golden turrets +were tottering and the substance of which her dreams +were made was becoming less ethereal. If Lyman Mertzheimer +came to her then and renewed his suit would she give +him a more encouraging answer than those she had given +in former times? Amanda’s hour of weakness and +despair was upon her. It was a propitious moment for +the awakening of the forces of her lower nature which +lay quiescent in her, as it dwells in us all--very +few escape the Jekyll-Hyde combination.</p> + +<p align="left">When Martin Landis returned to Lancaster +County he had a vagrant idea of what the South Carolina +mountains are like. He would have told you that the +trees there all murmur the name of Amanda, that the +birds sing her name, the waterfalls cry it aloud! +During his two weeks of absence from her his conviction +was affirmed--he knew without a shadow of doubt that +he loved her madly. All of Mrs. Browning’s tests +he had applied--</p> + +<p>  “Unless you can muse in a crowd +all day,<br> +    On the absent face that fixed +you;<br> +  Unless you can love, as the angels may,<br> +    With the breadth of heaven +betwixt you;<br> +  Unless you can dream that his faith is +fast,<br> +    Through behoving and unbehoving;<br> +  Unless you can die when the dream is past--<br> +   Oh, never call it loving!”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda was enthroned in his heart, +he knew it at last! How blind he had been! He knew +now what his mother had meant one day when she told +him, “Some of you men are blinder’n bats! +Bats do see at night!”</p> + +<p align="left">As he rode from Lancaster on the little +crowded trolley his thoughts were all of Amanda--would +she give him the answer he desired? Could he waken +in her heart something stronger than the old feeling +of friendship, which was not now enough?</p> + +<p align="left">He stepped from the car--now he would +be with her soon. He meant to stop in at the Reist +farmhouse and ask her the great question. He could +wait no longer.</p> + +<p align="left">“Hello, Landis,” a voice +greeted him as he alighted from the car. He turned +and faced Lyman Mertzheimer, a smiling, visibly happy +Lyman.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, hello,” Martin said, +not cordially, for he had no love for the trouble-maker. +“I see you’re in Lancaster County for your +vacation again.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, home from college for +Thanksgiving. I hear you’ve been away for several +weeks.”</p> + +<p align="left">The college boy fell into step beside +Martin, who would have turned and gone in another +direction if he had not been so eager to see Amanda.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, Landis,” continued +the unwelcome companion. “I’m home for +Thanksgiving. It’ll be a great day for me this +year. By the way, I saw Amanda Reist a number of times +since I’m here. Perhaps you’ll be interested +to know that Amanda’s promised to marry me--congratulate +me!”</p> + +<p align="left">“To marry you! Amanda?” +Martin’s face blanched and his heart seemed +turned to lead.</p> + +<p align="left">“Why not?” The other laughed +softly. “I’m not as black as I’m +painted, you know.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I--I hope not,” Martin +managed to say, his body suddenly seeming to be rooted +in the ground. His feet dragged as he walked along. +Amanda to marry Lvman Mertzheimer! What a crazv world +it was all of a sudden. What a slow, poky idiot he +had been not to try for the prize before it was snatched +from him!</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman, rejoicing over the misery so +plainly written in the face of Martin, walked boldly +down the middle of the road, while Martin’s feet +lagged so he could not keep pace with the man who had +imparted the bewildering news. Martin kept along the +side of the road, scuffing along in the grass, thinking +bitter thoughts about the arrogant youth who walked +in the middle of the road. The honk, honk of a speeding +automobile fell heedlessly upon the ears of both, till +Martin looked back in sudden alarm. His startled eyes +saw a car tearing down the road like a huge demon +on wheels, its driver evidently trusting to the common +sense of the man in the way to get out of the path +of danger in time. But Lyman walked on in serene preoccupation, +gloating over the unlucky, unhappy man who was following. +With a cry of warning Martin rushed to the side of +the other man and pushed him from the path of the +car, but when the big machine came to a standstill +Martin Landis lay in the dusty road, his eyes closed, +a thin red stream of blood trickling down his face.</p> + +<p align="left">The driver was concerned. “He’s +knocked out,” he said as he bent over the still +form. “I’m a doctor and I’ll take +him home and fix him up. He’s a plucky chap, +all right! He kept you from cashing in, probably. +Say, young fellow, are you deaf? I honked loud enough +to be heard a mile. Only for him you’d be in +the dust there and you’d have caught it full. +The car just grazed him. It’s merely a scalp +wound,” he said in relief as he examined the +prostrate figure. “Know where he lives?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, just a little distance +beyond the schoolhouse down this road.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Good. I’ll take him home. +I can’t say how sorry I am it happened. Give +me a lift, will you? You sit in the back seat and hold +him while I drive.”</p> + +<p align="left">Lyman did not relish the task assigned +to him but the doctor’s tones admitted of no +refusal. Martin Landis was taken to his home and in +his semiconscious condition he did not know that his +head with its handkerchief binding leaned against +the rascally breast of Lyman Mertzheimer.</p> + +<a name="ch24"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXIV</h1> + +<h2 align="center">“You Saved the Wrong One”</h2> + +<p align="left">The news of the accident soon reached +the Reist farmhouse. Amanda telephoned her sympathy +to Mrs. Landis and asked if there was anything she +could do.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Amanda,” came the +reply, “I do wish you’d come over! You’re +such a comforting person to have around. Did you hear +that it was Lyman Mertzheimer helped to bring him +home? Lyman said he and Martin were walkin’ +along the road and were so busy talkin’ that +neither heard the car and it knocked Martin down. +It beats me what them two could have to talk about +so much in earnest that they wouldn’t hear the +automobile. But perhaps Lyman wanted to make up with +Martin for all the mean tricks he done to him a’ready. +Anyhow, we’re glad it ain’t worse. He’s +got a cut on the head and is pretty much bruised. +He’ll be stiff for a while but there ain’t +no bones broke.”</p> + +<p>“I’m so glad it isn’t worse.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, ain’t, abody still +has something to be thankful for? Then you’ll +come on over, Amanda?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ll be over.”</p> + +<p align="left">As the girl walked down the road she +felt a strange mingling of emotions. She couldn’t +refuse the plea of Mrs. Landis, but one thing was +certain--she wouldn’t see Martin! He’d +be up-stairs and she could stay down. Perhaps she +could help with the work in the kitchen-- anything +but see Martin!</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Landis was excited as she drew +her visitor into the warm kitchen, but the excitement +was mingled with wrath. “What d’you think, +Amanda,” she exclaimed, “our Mart---”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, our Mart---” piped +out one of the smaller children, but an older one +chided him, “Now you hush, and let Mom tell about +it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That Lyman Mertzheimer,” +said Mrs. Landis indignantly, “abody can’t +trust at all! He let me believe that he and Martin +was walkin’ along friendly like and that’s +how Mart got hurt. But here after Lyman left and the +doctor had Mart all fixed up and was goin’ he +told me that Martin was in the side of the road and +wouldn’t got hurt at all if he hadn’t +run to the middle to pull Lyman back. He saved that +mean fellow’s life and gets no thanks for it +from him! After all Lyman’s dirty tricks this +takes the cake!”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda’s eyes sparkled. “He--I +think Martin’s wonderful!” she said, her +lips trembling.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes,” the mother agreed +as she wiped her eyes with one corner of her gingham +apron. “I’d rather my boy laid up in bed +hurt like he is than have him like Lyman.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Mom,” little Emma +came running into the room, “I looked in at Mart +and he’s awake. Mebbe he wants somebody to talk +to him like I did when I had the measles. Dare I go +set with him a little if I keep quiet?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why,” said Mrs. Landis, +“that would be a nice job for Amanda. You go +up,” she addressed the girl, “and stay +a little with him. He’ll appreciate your comin’ +to see him.”</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda’s heart galloped. Her +whole being was a mass of contradictions. One second +she longed to fly up the steps to where the plumed +knight of her girlish dreams lay, the next she wanted +to flee down the country road away from him.</p> + +<p align="left">She stood a moment, undecided, but +Mrs. Landis had taken her compliance for granted and +was already busy with some of her work in the kitchen. +At length Amanda turned to the stairs, followed by +several eager, excited children.</p> + +<p align="left">“Here,” called the mother, +“Charlie, Emma, you just leave Amanda go up +alone. It ain’t good for Mart to have so much +company at once. I’ll leave you go up to-night.” +They turned reluctantly and the girl started up the +stairs alone, some power seeming to urge her on against +her will.</p> + +<p align="left">Martin Landis returned to consciousness +through a shroud of enveloping shadows. What had happened? +Why was a strange man winding bandages round his head? +He raised an arm--it felt heavy. Then his mother’s +voice fell soothingly upon his ears, “You’re +all right, Martin.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, you’re all right,” +repeated the doctor, “but that other fellow +should have the bumps you got.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That other fellow"--Martin +thought hazily, then he remembered. The whole incident +came back to him, etched upon his memory. How he had +started from the car, eager to get to Amanda, then +Lyman had come with his news of her engagement and +the hope in his heart became stark. Where was her +blue bunting with its eternal song? Ah, he had killed +it with his indifference and caution and foolish blindness! +He knew he stumbled along the road, grief and misery +playing upon his heart strings. Then came the frantic +honk of the car and Lyman in its path. Good enough +for him, was the first thought of the Adam in Martin. +The next second he had obeyed some powerful impulse +and rushed to the help of the heedless Lyman. Then +blackness and oblivion had come upon him. Blessed +oblivion, he thought, as the details of the occurrence +returned to him. He groaned.</p> + +<p>“Hurt you?” asked the doctor kindly.</p> + +<p align="left">“No. I’m all right.” +He smiled between his bandages. “I think I can +rest comfortably now, thank you.”</p> + +<p align="left">He was grateful they left him alone +then, he wanted to think. Countless thoughts were +racing through his tortured brain. How could Amanda +marry Lyman Mertzheimer? Did she love him? Would he +make her happy? Why had he, Martin, been so blind? +What did life hold for him if Amanda went out of it? +The thoughts were maddening and after a while a merciful +Providence turned them away from him and he fell to +dreaming tenderly of the girl, the Amanda of his boyhood, +the gay, laughing comrade of his walks in the woods. +Tender, understanding Amanda of his hours of unhappiness--Amanda--the +vision of her danced before his eyes and lingered +by his side--Amanda---</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin"--the voice of her broke +in upon his dreaming! She stood in the doorway and +he wondered if that, too, was a part of his dream.</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin,” she said again, +a little timidly. Then she came into the room, a familiar +little figure in her brown suit and little brown hat +pulled over her red hair.</p> + +<p>“Oh, hello,” he answered, “come +in if you care to.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I <i>am</i> in.” She +laughed nervously, a strange way for her to be laughing, +but the man did not take heed of it. Had she come to +laugh at him for being a fool? he thought.</p> + +<p align="left">“Sit down,” he invited +coolly. She sat on the chair by his bed, her coat +buttoned and unbuttoned by her restless fingers as +she stole glances at the bandaged head of the man.</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s good of you to come,” +he began. At that she turned and began to speak rapidly.</p> + +<p align="left">“Martin, I must tell you! You +must let me tell you! I know what you did, how you +saved Lyman. I think it was wonderful of you, just +wonderful!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach.” He turned his flushed +face toward her then. “There’s noticing +wonderful about that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I think there is,” she +insisted, scarcely knowing what to say. She remembered +his old aversion to being lionized.</p> + +<p align="left">“Tell me why you did it,” +she asked suddenly. She had to say something!</p> + +<p align="left">The man lay silent for a moment, then +a rush of emotion, struggling for expression, swayed +him and he spoke, while his eyes were turned resolutely +from her.</p> + +<p align="left">“I’ll tell you, Amanda! +I’ve been a fool not to recognize the fact long +ago that I love you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh!” There was a quick +cry from the girl. But the man went on, impelled by +the pain of losing her.</p> + +<p align="left">“I see now that I have always +loved you, even while I was infatuated by the other +girl. You were still you, right there when I needed +you, ready to give your comfort and help. I must have +loved you in the days we ran barefooted down the hills +and looked for flowers or birds. I’ve been asleep, +blind--call it what you will! Perhaps I could have +taught you to love me if I had read my own heart in +time. I took so much for granted, that you’d +always be right there for me--now I’ve found +out the truth too late. Lyman told me--I hope he’ll +make you happy. Perhaps you better go now. I’m +tired.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="illus-3.png"><img src="illus-3.png" alt="“What did Lyman tell you? I must know”" border="0" /></a><br /> +“What did Lyman tell you? I must know”</p> + +<p>But the request fell on deaf ears.</p> + +<p>“Lyman told you--just what did he tell you?” +she asked.</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh,” the man groaned. +“There’s a limit to human endurance. I +wish you’d go, dear, and leave me alone for +a while.”</p> + +<p>“What did Lyman tell you?” she asked again. +“I must know.”</p> + +<p align="left">“What’s the use of threshing +it over? It brings neither of us happiness. Of course +he told me about the engagement, that you are going +to marry him.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh!” Another little cry, +not of joy this time, of anger, rather. There was +silence then for a space, while the man turned his +face to the wall and the girl tried to still the beating +of her heart and control herself sufficiently to be +able to speak.</p> + +<p align="left">“Then, Martin,” she whispered, +“you saved Lyman for me, because you thought +I loved him?”</p> + +<p>He lifted a protesting hand as if pleading for silence.</p> + +<p>She went on haltingly, “Why, Martin, you saved +the wrong one!”</p> + +<p align="left">He raised his head from the pillow +then; a strangling sound came from his lips.</p> + +<p align="left">The girl’s face burned with +blushes but her eyes looked fearlessly into his as +she said again, “You saved the wrong one. Why, +Martin--Martin-- if you wanted to save the man I love--you--you +should have saved yourself!”</p> + +<p align="left">He read the truth in her eyes; his +arms reached out for her then and her lips moved to +his as steel to a magnet.</p> + +<p align="left">When he spoke she marveled at the +tenderness in his voice; she never dreamed, even in +her brightest romantic dreams, that a man’s voice +could hold so much tenderness. “Amanda, I began +to read my own heart that day you found me in the +woods and helped and comforted me.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Martin,” she pressed +her lips upon his bandaged head, her eyes were glowing +with that “light that never was on land or sea"--"Oh, +Martin, I’ve loved <i>you</i> ever since that +day you saved my life by throwing me into the bean-patch +and then kissed my burnt hand.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Not your hand this time, sweetheart,” +he whispered, “your lips!”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m glad,” Amanda +said after they had told each other the old, old story, +“I’m so glad I kept my castles in Spain. +When you went away and didn’t write I almost +wrecked them purposely. I thought they’d go +tumbling into ashes but somehow I braced them up again. +Now they’re more beautiful than ever. I pity +the people who own no castles in Spain, who have no +dreams that won’t come true exactly as they dreamed. +I’ll hold on to my dreams even if I know they +can never come true exactly as I dream them. I wouldn’t +give up my castles in Spain. I’ll have them +till I die. But, Martin, that automobile might have +killed you!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Nonsense. I’m just scratched +a bit. I’ll be out of this in no time.”</p> + +<p>“That rascal of a Lyman--you thought I could +marry him?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t believe it, yet he said so. +Some liar, isn’t he?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, but not quite so black +as you thought. He is going to marry a girl named +Amanda, one from his college town, and they are going +to live in California.”</p> + +<p>“Good riddance!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes. The engagement was announced +last week while you were away. He knew you had probably +not heard of it and saw a chance to make you jealous.”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’d like to wring his +neck,” said Martin, grinning. “But since +it turned out like this for me I’ll forgive +him. I don’t care how many Amandas he marries +if he leaves me mine.”</p> + +<p align="left">At that point little Charlie, tiptoeing +to the open door of Martin’s room, saw something +which caused him to widen his eyes, clap a hand over +his mouth to smother an exclamation, and turn quickly +down the stairs.</p> + +<p align="left">“Jiminy pats, Mom!” he +cried excitedly as he entered the kitchen, “our +Mart’s holdin’ Amanda’s hand and +she’s kissin’ him on the face! I seen +it and heard it! Jiminy pats!”</p> + +<p align="left">The small boy wondered what ailed +his mother, why she was not properly shocked. Why +did she gather him into her arms and whisper something +that sounded exactly like, “Thank God!”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s all right,” +she told him. “You mustn’t tell; that’s +their secret.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, is it all right? Then I +won’t tell. Mart says I can keep a secret good.”</p> + +<p align="left">But Martin and Amanda decided to take +the mother into the happy secret. “Look at my +face,” the girl said. “I can’t hide +my happiness. We might as well tell it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mother!” Martin’s +voice rang through the house. At the sound a happy, +white-capped woman wiped her eyes again on the corner +of her gingham apron and mounted the stairs to give +her blessing to her boy and the girl who had crowned +him with her woman’s love.</p> + +<p align="left">The announcement of the troth was +received with gladness at the Reist farmhouse. Mrs. +Reist was happy in her daughter’s joy and lived +again in memory that hour when the same miracle had +been wrought for her.</p> + +<p align="left">“Say,” asked Philip, “I +hope you two don’t think you’re springing +a surprise? A person blind in one eye and not seeing +out of the other could see which way the wind was +blowing.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, Phil!” Amanda replied, +but there was only love in her voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“It must be nice to be so happy +like you are,” said Millie.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, it must be,” Uncle +Amos nodded his head in affirmation. He looked at +the hired girl, who did not appear to notice him. “I +just wish I was twenty years younger,” he added.</p> + +<p align="left">A week later Amanda and Martin were +sitting in one of the big rooms of the Reist farmhouse. +Through the open door came the sound of Millie and +Mrs. Reist in conversation, with an occasional deeper +note in Uncle Amos’s slow, contented voice.</p> + +<p align="left">“Do you know,” said Martin, +“I was never much of a hand to remember poetry, +but there’s one verse I read at school that keeps +coming to me since I know you are going to marry me. +That verse about</p> + +<p>  ’A perfect woman, nobly planned<br> +    To warn, to comfort, and command.’”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, no, Martin! You put me +on a pedestal, and that’s a tottering bit of +architecture.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Not on a pedestal,” he +contradicted, “but right by my side, walking +together, that’s the way we want to go.”</p> + +<p align="left">“That’s the only way. +It’s the way my parents went and the way yours +are still going.” She rose and brought to him +a little book. “Read Riley’s ‘Song +of the Road,’” she told him.</p> + +<p>He opened the book and read the musical verses:</p> + +<p>  “’O I will walk with you, +my lad, whichever way you fare,<br> +  You’ll have me, too, the side o’ +you, with heart as light as air.<br> +  No care for where the road you take’s +a-leadin’--anywhere,--<br> +  It can but be a joyful ja’nt the +whilst <i>you</i> journey there.<br> +  The road you take’s the path o’ +love, an’ that’s the bridth o’ two--<br> +  An’ I will walk with you, my lad--O +I will walk with you.’</p> + +<p align="left">“Why,” he exclaimed, “that’s +beautiful! Riley knew how to put into words the things +we all feel but can’t express. Let’s read +the rest.”</p> + +<p align="left">Her voice blended with his and out +in the adjoining room Millie heard and listened. Silently +the hired girl walked to the open door. She watched +the two heads bending over the little book. Her heart +ached for the happy childhood and the romance she +had missed. The closing words of the poem came distinctly +to her;</p> + +<p>  “’Sure, I will walk with you, +my lad,<br> +    As love ordains me to,--<br> +  To Heaven’s door, and through, my +lad,<br> +    O I will walk with you.’”</p> + +<p align="left">“Say,” she startled the +lovers by her remark, “if that ain’t the +prettiest piece I ever heard!”</p> + +<p>“Think so?” said Martin kindly. “I +agree with you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it sounds nice but the meanin’ is +what abody likes.”</p> + +<p align="left">The hired girl went back to her place +in the other room. But Amanda turned to the man beside +her and said, “Romance in the heart of Millie! +Who would guess it?”</p> + +<p align="left">“There’s romance everywhere,” +Martin told her. “Millie’s heart wouldn’t +be the fine big thing it is if she didn’t keep +a space there for love and romance.”</p> + +<a name="ch25"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXV</h1> + +<h2 align="center">The Heart of Millie</h2> + +<p align="left">The Reist farmhouse, always a busy +place, was soon rivaling the proverbial beehive. Mrs. +Reist, to whom sentiment was ever a vital, holy thing, +to be treasured and clung to throughout the years, +had long ago, in Amanda’s childhood, begun the +preparation for the time of the girl’s marriage. +After the fashion of olden times the mother had begun +the filling of a Hope Chest for her girl. Just as she +instilled into the youthful mind the homely old-fashioned +virtues of honesty, truthfulness and reverence for +holy things which made Amanda, as she stood on the +threshold of a new life, so richly dowered in spiritual +and moral acquisitions, so had the mother laid away +in the big wooden chest fine linens, useful and beautiful +and symbolic of the worth of the bride whose home +they were destined to enrich.</p> + +<p align="left">But in addition to the precious contents +of the Hope Chest many things were needed for the +dowry of the daughter of a prosperous Lancaster County +family. So the evenings and Saturdays of that year +became busy ones for Amanda. Millie helped with much +of the plainer sewing and Mrs. Reist’s exquisite +tiny stitches enhanced many of the garments.</p> + +<p align="left">“Poor Aunt Rebecca,” Amanda +said one day, “how we miss her now!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, ain’t?” agreed +Millie. “For all her scoldin’ she was a +good help still. If she was livin’ yet she’d +fuss about all the sewin’ you’re doin’ +to get married but she’d pitch right in and help +do it.”</p> + +<p align="left">Philip offered to pull basting threads, +but his generosity was not appreciated. “Go +on,” Millie told him, “you’d be more +bother than you’re worth! Next you’d be +pullin’ out the sewin’!” He was frequently +chased from the room because of his inappropriate remarks +concerning the trousseau or his declaration that Amanda +was spending all the family wealth by her reckless +substitution of silk for muslin.</p> + +<p align="left">“You keep quiet,” Millie +often reproved him. “I guess Amanda dare have +what she wants if your mom says so. If she wants them +things she calls cammysoles made out of silk let her +have ‘em. She’s gettin’ married +only once.”</p> + +<p align="left">“How do you know?” he +asked teasingly. “Say, Millie, I thought a camisole +is a dish you make rice pudding in.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, that shows you don’t +know everything yet, even if you do go to Lancaster +to school!” And he was driven from the room in +laughing defeat.</p> + +<p align="left">It is usually conceded that to the +prospective bride belongs the privilege of naming +the day of her marriage, but it seemed to Amanda that +Millie and Philip had as much to do with it as she. +Each one had a favorite month. Phil’s suggestion +finally decided the month. “Sis, you’re +so keen about flowers, why don’t you make it +a spring wedding? About cherry blossom time would +be the thing.”</p> + +<p>“So it would. We could have it in the orchard.”</p> + +<p>“On a nice rainy day in May,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Pessimist! It doesn’t rain every day +in May!”</p> + +<p align="left">There followed happy, excited times +when the matter of a house was discussed. Those were +wonderful hours in which the two hunted a nest that +would be near enough to the city for Martin’s +daily commuting and yet have so much of the country +about it as to boast of green grass and space for +flowers. It was found at length, a little new bungalow +outside the city limits in a residential section where +gardens and trees beautified the entire street.</p> + +<p align="left">“Do you know,” Mrs. Reist +said to Uncle Amos one day, “there’s another +little house for sale in that street. If it wasn’t +for breakin’ up the home for you and Millie +I’d buy it and Philip and I could move in there. +It would be nice and handy for him. I’m gettin’ +tired of such a big house. There I could do the work +myself. There’d be room for you to come with +us, but I wouldn’t need Millie. I don’t +like to send her off to some other people. We had +her so long a’ready, and she’s a good, +faithful worker. Ach, I guess I’ll have to give +up thinkin’ about doin’ anything like +that.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, well, now let me think +once.” Uncle Amos scratched his head. Then an +inscrutable smile touched his lips. “Well, now,” +he said after a moment’s meditation, “now +I don’t see why it can’t be arranged some +way. There’s more’n one way sometimes to +do things. I don’t know--I don’t know--but +I think I can see a way we could manage that-- providin’--ach, +we’ll just wait once, mebbe it’ll come +out right.”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist looked at her brother. +What did he mean? He stammered and smiled like a foolish +schoolboy. Poor Amos, she thought, how hard he had +worked all his life and how little pleasure he had +seemed to get out of his days! He was growing old, +too, and would soon be unable to do the work on a +big farm.</p> + +<p align="left">But Uncle Amos seemed spry enough +several days later when he and Millie entered the +big market wagon to go to Lancaster with the farm products. +They left the Reist farmhouse early in the morning, +a cold, gray winter day.</p> + +<p align="left">“Say, Millie,” he said +soon after they began the drive, “I want to talk +with you.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well,” she answered dryly, +“what’s to keep you from doin’ so? +Here I am. Go on.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Millie, now don’t +get obstreperous! Manda’s mom would like to +sell the farm and move to Lancaster to a little house. +Then she wouldn’t need me nor you.”</p> + +<p>“What? Are you sure, Amos?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Sure! She told me herself. +That would leave us out a home. For I don’t +want to live in no city and set down evenings and look +at houses or trolley cars. You can hire out to some +other people, of course.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, yea! Amos. What in the +world--I don’t want to live no place else.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, now, wait once, Millie. +I got a plan all fixed up, something I wished long +a’ready I could do, only I hated to bust up the +farm for my sister. Millie--ach, don’t you know +what I mean? Let’s me and you get married!”</p> + +<p align="left">Millie drew her heavy blanket shawl +closer around her and pulled her black woolen cap +farther over her forehead, then she turned and looked +at Amos, but his face was in shadow; the feeble oil +lamp of the market wagon sent scant light inside.</p> + +<p align="left">“Now, Amos, you say that just +because you take pity for me and want to fix a home +for me, ain’t?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, yammer, no!” came +the vehement reply. “I liked you long a’ready, +Millie, and used to think still, ‘There’s +a girl I’d like to marry!’”</p> + +<p align="left">“Why, Amos,” came the +happy answer, “and I liked you, too, long a’ready! +I used to think still to myself, ’I don’t +guess I’ll ever get married but if I do I’d +like a man like Amos.’”</p> + +<p align="left">Then Uncle Amos suddenly demonstrated +his skill at driving one-handed and something more +than the blanket-shawl was around Millie’s shoulders.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, my,” she said after +a while, “to think of it--me, a hired girl, +to get a nice, good man like you for husband!”</p> + +<p align="left">“And me, a fat dopple of a farmer +to get a girl like you! I’ll be good to you, +Millie, honest! You just see once if I won’t! +You needn’t work so hard no more. I’ll +buy the farm off my sister and we’ll sell some +of the land and stop this goin’ to market. It’s +too hard work. We can take it easier; we’re +both gettin’ old, ain’t, Millie?” +He leaned over and kissed her again.</p> + +<p align="left">“You know,” he said blissfully, +“I used to think still this here kissin’ +business is all soft mush, but--why--I think it’s +all right. Don’t you?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” she laughed as +she pushed his face away gently. “They say still +there ain’t no fools like old ones. I guess we’re +some.”</p> + +<p align="left">“All right, we don’t care, +long as we like it. Here,” he spoke to the horse, +“giddap with you! Abody’d think you was +restin’ ‘stead of goin’ to market. +We’ll be late for sure this morning.” His +mittened hands flapped the reins and the horse quickened +his steps.</p> + +<p align="left">“Ha, ha,” the man laughed, +“I know what ails old Bill! The kissin’ +scared him. He never heard none before in this market +wagon. No wonder he stands still. Here’s another +for good measure.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, Amos, I think that’s +often enough now! Anyhow for this morning once.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ha, ha,” he laughed. +“Millie, you’re all right! That’s +what you are!”</p> + +<p align="left">That evening at supper Philip asked +suddenly, “What ails you two, Uncle Amos, you +and Millie? I see you grin every time you look at each +other.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, nothin’ ails me +except a bad case of love that’s been stickin’ +in me this long while and now it’s broke out. +Millie’s caught it too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I declare!” Amanda +was quick to detect his meaning. “You two darlings! +I’m so glad!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach,” the hired girl +said, blushing rosy, “don’t go make so +much fuss about it. Ain’t we old enough to get +married?”</p> + +<p align="left">“I’m glad, Millie,” +Mrs. Reist told her. “Amos just needs a wife +like you. He worried me long a’ready, goin’ +on all alone. Now I know he’ll have some one +to look out for him.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Finis! You’re done for!” +Phil said. “Lay down your arms and surrender. +But say, that makes it bully for Mother and me. We +can move to Lancaster now. May we run out to the farm +and visit you, Millie?”</p> + +<p>“Me? Don’t ask me. It’s Amos’s.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Millie, you goose,” the +man said happily, “when you marry me everything +I have will be yours, too.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, did I ever! I don’t +believe I’ll know how to think about it that +way. This nice big house won’t seem like part +mine.”</p> + +<p>“It’ll be <i>ours</i>” Uncle Amos +said, smiling at the word.</p> + +<p align="left">And so it happened that the preparation +of another wedding outfit was begun in the Reist farmhouse.</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t need fancy things +like Amanda,” declared the hired girl. “I +wear the old style o’ clothes yet. And for top +things, why, I made up my mind I’m goin’ +to wear myself plain and be a Mennonite.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Plain,” said Mrs. Reist. +“Won’t Amos be glad! He likes you no matter +what clothes you wear, but it’s so much nicer +when you can both go to the same church. He’ll +be glad if you turn a Mennonite.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, I’m goin’ +to be one. So I won’t want much for my weddin’ +in clothes, just some plain suits and bonnets and +shawl. But I got no chest ready like Amanda has. I +never thought I’d need a Hope Chest. When I +was little I got knocked around, but as soon as I could +earn money I saved a little all the time and now I +got a pretty good bit laid in the bank. I can take +that and get me some things I need.”</p> + +<p align="left">Mrs. Reist laid her hands on the shoulders +of the faithful hired girl. “Never mind, Millie, +you’ll have your chest! We’ll go to Lancaster +and buy what you want. Amos got his share of our mother’s +things when we divided them and he has a big chest +on the garret all filled with homespun linen and quilts +and things that you can use. That will all be yours.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Mine? I can’t hardly +believe it. You couldn’t be nicer to me if you +was my own mom. And I ain’t forgettin’ +it neither! I said to Amos we won’t get married +till after Amanda and when you and Phil are all fixed +in your new house. Then we’ll go to the preacher +and get it done. We don’t want no fuss, just +so we get married, that’s all we want. It needn’t +be done fancy.”</p> + +<a name="ch26"></a> +<h1 align="center">CHAPTER XXVI</h1> + +<h2 align="center">“One Heart Made o’ Two”</h2> + +<p align="left">Amanda married Martin that May, when +the cherry blossoms transformed the orchard into a +sea of white.</p> + +<p align="left">To the rear of the farmhouse stood +a plot of ground planted with cherry trees. Low grass +under the trees and little paths worn into it led like +aisles up and down. There, near the centre of the plot, +Amanda and Martin chose the place for the ceremony. +The march to and from that spot would lead through +a white-arched aisle sweet with the breath of thousands +of cherry blossoms.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda selected for her wedding a +dress of white silk. “I do want a wedding dress +I can pack away in an old box on the attic and keep +for fifty years and take out and look at when it’s +yellow and old,” she said, romance still burning +in her heart.</p> + +<p align="left">“Uh,” said practical Millie. +“Why, there ain’t no attic in that house +you’re goin’ to! Them bungalows ain’t +the kind I like. I like a real house.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Well, there’s no garret +like ours, but there is a little raftered room with +a slanting ceiling and little windows and I intend +to put trunks and boxes in it and take my spinning-wheel +that Granny gave me and put it there.”</p> + +<p align="left">“A spinning-wheel! What under +the sun will you do with that?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Look at it,” was the +strange reply, at which Millie shook her head and +went off to her work.</p> + +<p align="left">“Are you going to carry flowers, +and have a real wedding?” Philip asked his sister +the day before the wedding.</p> + +<p align="left">“I don’t need any, with +the whole outdoors a mass of bloom. If the pink moccasins +were blooming I’d carry some.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Pink--with your red hair!” +The boy exercised his brotherly prerogative of frankness.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, pink! Whose wedding is +this? I’d carry pink moccasins and wear my red +hair if they--if the two curdled! But I’ll have +to find some other wild flowers.”</p> + +<p>He laughed. “Then I’ll help you pick them.”</p> + +<p>“Martin and I are going for them, thanks.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Oh, don’t mention it! +I wouldn’t spoil that party!” He began +whistling his old greeting whistle. He had forgotten +it for several years but some chord of memory flashed +it back to him at that moment.</p> + +<p align="left">At the sound of the old melody Amanda +stepped closer to the boy. “Phil,” she +said tenderly, “you make me awful mad sometimes +but I like you a lot. I hope you’ll be as happy +as I am some day.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ah,” he blinked, half +ashamed of any outward show of emotion. “You’re +all right, Sis. When I find a girl like you I’ll +do the wedding ring stunt, too. Now, since we’ve +thrown bouquets at each other let’s get to work. +What may I do if I’m debarred from the flower +hunt?”</p> + +<p>“Go ask Millie.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Gee, Sis, have a heart! She’s +been love struck, too. Regular epidemic at Reists’!” +But he went off to offer his services to the hired +girl.</p> + +<p align="left">As Amanda dressed in her white silk +gown she wished she were beautiful. “Every girl +ought to have beauty once in her life,” she thought. +“Even for just one hour on her wedding day it +would be a boon. But then, love is supposed to be +blind, so perhaps Martin will think I am beautiful +to-day.”</p> + +<p align="left">She was not beautiful, but her eyes +shone soft and her face was expressive of the joy +in her heart as she stood ready for the ceremony which +was the consummation of her love for the knight of +her girlhood’s dreams.</p> + +<p align="left">It would be impossible to find a more +beautiful setting for a wedding than the Reist cherry +orchard that May day. There were rows of trees, with +their fresh young green and their canopies of lacy +bloom through which the warm May sunshine trickled +like gold. As Amanda and Martin stood before the waiting +clergyman and in the presence of relatives, friends +and neighbors, faint breezes stirred the branches and +fugitive little petals loosened from the hearts of +the blossoms and fell upon the happy people gathered +under the white glory of the orchard.</p> + +<p align="left">Several robins with nests already +built on broad crotches of the cherry trees hovered +about, their black eyes peering questioningly down +at the unwonted visitors to the place. Once during +the marriage service a Baltimore oriole flashed into +a tree near by, his golden plumage made more intense +against the white blossoms. With proud assurance he +demonstrated his appreciation of the orchard and perched +fearlessly on an outer bough while he whistled his +insistent, imperious, “Here, here, come here!”</p> + +<p align="left">As the words, “Until death do +us part"--the old, inadequate mortal expression for +love that is deathless--sounded in that white-arched +temple Amanda thought of Riley’s “Song +of the Road” and its</p> + +<p>  “To Heaven’s door, and <i>through</i>, +my lad,<br> +  O I will walk with you.”</p> + +<p align="left">After the ceremony the strains of +a Wedding March fell upon the ears of the people gathered +in the orchard.</p> + +<p align="left">Amanda’s lips parted in pleasure. +“That’s Phil’s work!” she cried +and ran behind the clump of bushes from where the +music seemed to come. Philip was stooping to grind +the motor of Landis’s Victrola.</p> + +<p>“Phil, you dear!”</p> + +<p align="left">“Aren’t I though!” +he said frivolously. “I had the heck of a time +getting this thing here while you were dressing and +keeping it hidden. I had to bribe little Charlie twice +to keep him from telling you. He was so sure you’d +want to know all about it.”</p> + +<p align="left">“It’s just the last touch +we needed to make this perfect.”</p> + +<p align="left">“Leave it to your devoted brother. +Now go back and receive the best wishes or congratulations +or whatever it is they give the bride.”</p> + +<p align="left">Later there was supper out under the +trees. A supper at which Millie, trim in her new gray +Mennonite garb and white cap, was able to show her +affection for the bride, but at which the bride was +so riotously happy that she scarcely knew what she +was eating.</p> + +<p align="left">Of course there was a real bride’s +cake with white icing. Amanda had to cut it and hand +out pieces for the young people to dream upon.</p> + +<p align="left">After a while the bride slipped away, +took off her white dress and put on a dark suit. Then +she and Martin dodged rice and were whirled away in +a big automobile.</p> + +<p align="left">The other members of the household +had much to occupy their hands for the next hour, +setting things to rights, as Millie said, the while +their hearts and thoughts were speeding after the two +who had smiled and looked as though no other mortals +had ever known such love.</p> + +<p align="left">When the place was once more in order +and the Landis family, the last guests, had gone off +in the darkness, the children flinging back loud good-nights, +Mrs. Reist, Philip, Millie and Uncle Amos sat alone +on the porch and talked things over.</p> + +<p align="left">“It was some wedding, Mother,” +was the opinion of the boy.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes.” “Prettiest +thing I ever seen,” said the hired girl.</p> + +<p align="left">“Yes, so it was,” Uncle +Amos agreed. “But say, Millie, it’s dandy +and moonlight. What d’you say to a little walk +down the road? Or are you too tired?”</p> + +<p align="left">“Ach, I’m not tired.” +And the two went off in the soft spring night for +a stroll along the lane, Millie in her gray Mennonite +dress, Uncle Amos in his plain suit of the faith. +The two on the porch saw her homely face transfigured +by a smile as she looked up into the countenance of +the man who had brought romance into her life, then +they saw Uncle Amos draw the hand of Millie through +his arm and in that fashion they walked along in the +moonlight, the man, contented and happy, holding the +hand of the woman warmly in his grasp. To them, no +less than to the youthful lovers, was given the promise +of happiness and in their hearts was ringing Amanda’s +and Martin’s pledge:</p> + +<p>  “Sure, I will walk with you, my +lad,<br> +    As love ordains me to,--<br> +  To Heaven’s door, and <i>through</i>, +my lad,<br> +    O I will walk with you.” +</p> +<PRE> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, AMANDA *** + +This file should be named 6330-h.htm or 6330-h.zip + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +https://gutenberg.org or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart [hart@pobox.com] + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* +</PRE> + +</BODY> +</HTML> diff --git a/6330-h/illus-1.png b/6330-h/illus-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccaf8d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/6330-h/illus-1.png diff --git a/6330-h/illus-2.png b/6330-h/illus-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3007d08 --- /dev/null +++ b/6330-h/illus-2.png diff --git a/6330-h/illus-3.png b/6330-h/illus-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e49ced --- /dev/null +++ b/6330-h/illus-3.png |
