out the country road to his home. He could not
resist the temptation to run into the yard of the gray farmhouse and
into the kitchen where Aunt Maria and Phoebe were working.

"David!"

"Why, David!"

The cries came gladly from the two women as he bounded over the sill and
extended his hand, first to the older woman, then to Phoebe.

"I just had to stop in here for a minute! Then I must run up the hill to
mother. This place looks too good to pass by. How are you? You're both
looking fine."

"Ach, we're well," Aunt Maria had to answer, Phoebe remaining
speechless. "But why, David! You got two legs and no crutches! I thought
you lost a leg."

"I did," he said, smiling, "but Uncle Sam gave me another one."

"Why, abody'd hardly know it. Ain't, Phoebe, he just limps a little?
Now I bet your mom'll be glad to see you--to have you back again, I
mean."

"Yes. I can't wait to get up the hill. I must go now. I'll be down
later, Phoebe," he added.

"All right," she said quietly.

"Ach, Phoebe," Aunt Maria exclaimed after he left, "did you hear me? I
almost give it away that his mom can see. Abody can be awful dumb still!
But won't he be glad when he knows that she ain't blind! She can see him
again. Ach, Phoebe, it's lots of nice people in the world, for all. It
makes abody feel good to know them two are havin' a happy time."

"I'm so glad for both I could sing."

"Go on," said the woman; "I'm glad too, and I believe I could help you
to holler."

As David climbed the hill by the woodland he thought musingly, "Strikes
me Phoebe didn't seem extra glad to see me. Perhaps she was just
surprised, perhaps my being crippled changed her. Oh, Phoebe, I want you
more than ever! I wonder--is it some nerve to ask you to marry a
cripple?"

However, all disquieting thoughts were forgotten as he reached the
summit of the hill and saw his boyhood home.

He whistled his old greeting whistle. At the sound of it Mother Bab ran
to the door.

"It's David come home!" she cried, her renewed eyes turned to the road,
her hands outstretched.

"I'm back, mommie!" he called before his running feet could take him to
her. But as he held her again to his heart there were no words adequate
for the greeting. Their joy was great enough to be inarticulate for a
while.

"But, Davie," the mother said after a long silence, "you come running!
You have no crutches!"

"Why, mommie!" There was questioning wonder in his voice. "How do you
know