efore it, and wide,
screened verandas.

"Why, it's only its name that is against it!" cried the wondering
tourists. "It's not _poky_ at all."

These remarks, repeated as they were, made the merchants of the village
stop and think. Ere this a board of trade had been formed, and the
welfare of the town was eagerly discussed at the meetings of the board.
Mr. Massey, the druggist, who was active, of course, got another idea
from Janice.

He began to delve into the past history of Poketown. He learned how and
when it had been settled--and by whom. People had mostly forgotten (if
they ever had known) the true history of the town.

A pioneer named Cyrus Polk had first built his cabin on the heights
overlooking this little bay. He had been the first smith in this region,
too, and gradually around "Polk's Smithy" had been reared the nucleus of
the present town.

Through the years the silent "l" in the original settler's name had been
lost entirely. But the post office agreed to put it back into the name,
and a big signboard was painted and set up at the dock:

"POLKTOWN."

"It sartain sure looks a hull lot diff'rent, even if ye _do_ pernounce
it the same," admitted Walky Dexter.

So much was happening these balmy June days! The school year--the first
in the new schoolhouse--was going to end in a blaze of glory for Nelson
Haley, Janice was sure. Elder Concannon had promised in writing to give
his lot upon High Street for the site of a library building, whenever
the association should have subscribed twelve hundred dollars toward the
building itself.

Then came the first love letter that Janice Day had ever received! Such
a letter was it that she treasures it yet and will always do so. It was
one that she could proudly show to anybody she chose, without betraying
that intimacy that the ordinary love letter is supposed to contain.

News had come regularly to Hopewell Drugg from the teachers at the
school where little Lottie had taken up her abode. Because the child was
naturally so bright, and because of the fact that before she lost her
eyesight she had learned the alphabet and some primary studies, and had
not forgotten it all, Lottie was making marvelous progress the teachers
declared.

A much-bethumbed envelope, addressed in crooked "printed" characters to
"Mis Janis Day, Pokton," enclosed in a teacher's letter to the
store-keeper, was the cover of Janice's love letter. Inside, the child
said: