This was
offered as a wedge to break the silence, for the needles were going
very rapidly now, and the stitches seemed to call for the closest
watching.

"Yes," said Mary.

I lighted my pipe again.

"What a grand man Tim will be when he comes back home." I suggested
this after a long silence. "He'll look fine in his city clothes, for
somehow those city men do dress differently from us country chaps. Now
just picture Tim in a--in a----"

Mary was humming softly to herself.

XI

The county paper always comes on Thursday. This was Thursday. Elmer
Spiker sat behind the stove, in a secluded corner, the light of the
lamp on the counter falling over his left shoulder on the leading
column of locals. Elmer was reading. There was a store rule
forbidding him to read aloud, which caused him much hardship, for as he
worked his way slowly down the column, his right eye and left ear kept
twitching and twitching as though trying to keep time with his lips.

Josiah Nummler's long pole rested on the counter at his side, and his
great red hands were spread out to drink in the heat from the glowing
bowl of the stove.

"It's a-blowin' up most a-mighty, ain't it?" he said, cheerfully. "Any
news, Elmer?"

"Oh now, go home," grunted Mr. Spiker, rolling his pipe around so the
burning tobacco scattered over his knees. "See what you've done!" he
snapped angrily, brushing away the sparks.

"I didn't notice you was in the middle of a word, Elmer, really I
didn't," pleaded old Mr. Nummler.

"I wasn't in the middle of a word," retorted Elmer, as he drove his
little finger into his pipe in an effort to save some of the tobacco.
"I was just beginnin' a new piece. Things is gittin' so there ain't a
place left in this town for a man to read in peace and comfort. Here I
am, tryin' to post up on the local doin's, on polytics and religion,
and ringin' in my ears all the time is 'lickin' the teacher, lickin'
the teacher, lickin' the teacher.' S'pose every man here did lick the
teacher in his time--what of it, I says, what of it?"

"Yes, what of it?" said I, closing the door with a bang.

I was plodding home from Mary's. She had hummed me out at last, and I
had tucked Tim's letter in my pocket and hobbled back to the village.
The light in the store had drawn me aside and I stopped a moment just
to look in. The store is always a fascinating place. There is always
something doing there, and I opened the door a crack to he