nty good."

"Have I time to run up and tell Miss Nancy?"

"Lan' sakes, no! We gotta get supper spry so's to have the work
cleared away. Nancy Leavitt knows it, I callate--ain't much happens
Webb doesn't carry straight off up to Happy House. I guess maybe
they're pretty busy, too. Things is certainly changin', I said, when
Sabriny Leavitt goes to poor Sarah Hopkins' funeral, sittin' right on
the plush chair over in the right-hand corner near the waxed flowers.
And sure's I'm alive, she's taken the Hopkins baby up to Happy House to
do for. She wanted it to keep regular like her own, but Timothy
Hopkins wouldn't listen for a minit--his children wa'nt a goin' to be
separated if they all starved! Seems to me he was foolish, but he was
awful set and mebbe he was right. Dan'l Hopworth, take off your
slippers! Of course you're goin' to see Archie Eaton come home! I
guess you're as patriotic as any other folks."

Liz's determination won its point so that a little before seven the
entire Hopworth family joined every other "man, woman and child" on the
village common. The common presented a pretty sight, big and small
flags fluttering, the weather-worn service flag again hoisted to its
place of honor and women and children in their best attire. Mrs.
Eaton, upon whom every glance turned with frank curiosity, did not need
her gorgeous purple poplin with its lace ruffles swelling over her
proud bosom, to make her the most conspicuous figure in the
gathering--that she was the mother of the returning soldier was enough!
And her eyes, as they strained down the road like the others, for a
first glimpse of Webb's horses, were wet with tears.

Someone saw a little cloud of dust and set up a shout: "He's comin'!"
Others took up the cry. Mrs. Sniggs frantically gathered her flock of
little singers around the carriage-block in front of the meeting-house,
where Webb had promised to pull up his team. Some one pushed Mrs.
Eaton toward the spot.

"_There_ he is," piped a small boy, pointing to the khaki figure that
leaned out of the stage, violently waving a hat.

"Who's the other fellar?" asked Mr. Todd, but no one around him seemed
to know.

All ceremony was thrown to the four winds; the hysterical piping of the
little girls was lost in the wild rub-a-dub dub of the Freedom's
drummers and the clamor of excited voices from the pushing, jostling
crowd. However, Archie Eaton was utterly unconscious of it all, for in
less tha