ores, seemed a veritable
city. She delighted in walking on its brick sidewalks, looking at its
different houses and entering its stores. How many attractions these
stores held for the little country girl! There was the big one on the
Square which had in one of its windows a great lemon tree on which grew
real lemons. Another store had a large Santa Claus in its window every
Christmas--not that Phoebe Metz had ever been taught to believe in that
patron saint of the children--oh, no! Maria Metz would have considered
it foolish, even sinful, to lie to a child about any mythical Santa
Claus coming down the chimney Christmas Eve! Nevertheless, the smiling,
rotund face of the red-habited Santa in the store window seemed so real
and so emanative of cheer that Phoebe delighted in him each year and
felt sure there must be a Santa Claus somewhere in the world, even
though Aunt Maria knew nothing about him.

Most little towns can boast of one or more persons like Granny
Hogendobler, well-nigh community owned, certainly community
appropriated. Did any one need a helper in garden or kitchen or sewing
room, Granny Hogendobler was glad to serve. Did a housewife remember
that a rose geranium leaf imparts to apple jelly a delicious flavor,
Granny Hogendobler was able and willing to furnish the leaf. Did a lover
of flowers covet a new phlox or dahlia or other old-fashioned flower,
Granny Hogendobler was ready to give of her stock. Should a young wife
desire a recipe for crullers, shoo-fly pie, or other delectable dish,
Granny had a wealth of reliable recipes at her tongue's end. This
admirable desire to serve found ample opportunities for exercise in the
constant demands from her friends and neighbors. But Granny's greatest
joy lay in the fond ministrations for her husband, Old Aaron, as the
town people called him, half pityingly, half accusingly. For some said
Old Aaron was plain shiftless, had always been so, would remain so
forever, so long as he had Granny to do for him. Others averred that the
Confederate bullets that had shattered his leg into splinters and
necessitated its amputation must have gone astray and struck his
liver--leastways, that was the kindest explanation they could give for
his laziness.

Granny stoutly refuted all these charges--gossip travels in circles in
small towns and sooner or later reaches those most concerned--"Aaron
lazy! I-to-goodness no! Why, he's old and what for should he go out and
work every day,