ness from which Pete took refuge in Rose Mary's skirts
and Jennie behind her mother's chair. But at this juncture the arrival
on the scene of action of young Bob Nickols with a whole two-horse
wagon-load of pine cones, which the old lady doted on for the freshing
up of the tiny fires always kept smoldering in her andironed fireplace
the summer through, distracted the attention of the company and was
greeted with great applause. Bob had been from early morning over on
Providence Nob collecting the treasures, and, seated beside him on the
front of the wagon, was Louisa Helen Plunkett, blushing furiously and
most obviously avoiding her mother's stern eye of inquiry as to where
she had spent the valuable morning hours.

The sensation of young Bob's offering was only offset at the unpacking
of the complacent Mr. Crabtree's gift, which he bore over from the
store in his own arms. With dramatic effect he placed it on the floor
at Miss Lavinia's feet and called for a hatchet for its opening. And
as from their wrappings of paper and excelsior he drew two large gilt
and glass bottles, one containing bay rum and the other camphor, that
precious lotion for fast stiffening joints, little Miss Amanda heaved
a sigh of positive rapture. Mr. Crabtree was small and wiry, with a
hickory-nut countenance and a luscious peach of a heart, and, though
of bachelor condition, he at all times displayed sympathetic and
intuitive domestic inclinations. He kept the Sweetbriar store and was
thus in position to know of the small economies practised by the two
old ladies in the matter of personal necessities. For the months past
they had not bought the quantity of lubricating remedies that he
considered sufficient and this had been his tactful way of supplying
enough to last for some time to come. And from over the pile of gifts
heaped around her, Miss Lavinia beamed upon him to such an extent that
he felt like following young Pete's example, committing the awful
impropriety of hiding his embarrassment in any petticoat handy, but
just at this juncture up the front walk came the birthday cake
navigating itself by the long legs of Mr. Caleb Rucker and attended by
a riot of Sweetbriar youth, mad with excitement over its safe landing
and the treat in prospect. In its wake followed Mrs. Rucker,
complacent and beaming over the sensation caused by this her high
triumph in the culinary line.

"Fly-away, if that's not Providence Nob gone and turned to a cake f