eir corner, and she hurried out
again. The general finished the letter he was writing and wrote
another, and then backed up to the stove with his coat tails in front
of him and stood benignly watching Barclay work. Barclay felt the
man's attention, and whirling about in his chair licking an envelope
flap, he said, "Well, General--what's on your mind?"

"I was just thinking of Lucy--that's all," replied the general.
Barclay knew that the Wards had gone through the winter on less than
one hundred dollars, and it occurred to the younger man that times
might be rather hard in the Ward household. So he asked, "Are you
worried about money matters, General?"

The general's smile broadened to a grin. "Well, to be exact, Lucy and
I just counted cash--it's in her pocketbook, and we find our total
cash assets are eight dollars and thirty-nine cents, and it's got to
tide us over till grass." He stroked his lean chin, and ran his hands
through his iron-gray hair and went on, "That's plenty, the way we've
figured it out--Lucy and I only eat one meal a day anyway, and the
children seem to eat all the time and that averages it up." He smiled
deprecatingly and added: "But Lucy's got her heart set on a little
matter, and we've decided to spend eighty-seven cents, as you might
say riotously, and get it. That's what we were talking about."

Barclay entered into the spirit of Ward's remarks and put in: "But the
National debt, General--if you have all that money to spare, why
don't you pay it off? Practise what you preach, General."

The smile faded from Ward's face. He was not a man to joke on what he
regarded as sacred things. He replied: "Yes, yes, that's just it. My
share of the interest on that debt this winter was just seventy-five
cents, and if it wasn't for that, we would have had enough to get
them; as it is, we are going to cut out meat for a week--we figured
it all out just now--and get them anyway. She's down at the store
buying them."

"Buying what?" asked Barclay.

The general's face lighted up again with a grin, and he replied: "Now
laugh--dog-gone you--buying flower seeds!" They heard a step at the
bottom of the stairs, and the general strode to the door, opened it,
and called down, "All right, Lucy--I'm coming," and buttoning up his
coat, he whisked himself from the room, and Barclay, looking out of
the window, watched the two forms as they disappeared in the dusk. But
appearances are so deceptive. The truth is that w