in't neither of
'em been down to the house yit--an' I might's well rest now as any
time."

It was this way all day long. Aunt Almira was never properly through
her work. Things were always "in a clutter." She did not find time
from morning till night (to hear her tell it) to "clean herself up like
other wimmen."

Janice helped in the garden again; but Marty was grumpy, and as soon as
the last row of potatoes was hoed he disappeared until supper time.
Uncle Jason was marking a field for corn planting. A harness strap
broke and he was an hour fixing it, while old Lightfoot dragged the
rickety marker into the fence corner and patiently cropped the weeds.
Later a neighbor leaned on the fence, and Uncle Jason gossiped for
another hour.

The girl saw that none of the neighboring housewives came to call on
Aunt 'Mira. In the afternoon she saw several of them exchanging calls
up and down the lane; but they were in fresh print dresses and carried
their needlework, or the like, in their hands, while Aunt 'Mira was
still "down at the heel" and in her faded calico.

Janice was getting very lonely and homesick. Every hour made the
separation from her father seem harder to bear. And she had scarcely
spoken to a soul save the Days and Walky Dexter since her arrival in
Poketown. Friday noon came, and at dinner Janice desperately broached
the subject of 'Rill Scattergood's school again.

"I'd love to visit it," she said. "Maybe I'd get acquainted with some
of the girls. I might even attend for the remainder of the term."

"Huh!" scoffed Marty. "That old maid can't teach ye nothin'."

"But it would be something to _do_," exclaimed Janice, with vigor.

"My goodness me, child!" drawled Aunt Almira. "Can't you be content to
jest let things go along easy?"

"Yer must want sumthin' ter do mighty bad, ter want ter go ter 'Rill
Scattergood's school," was again Marty's scornful comment.

"Just the same I'm going," declared Janice. "It's not far, is it?"

"Right up at the edge of town," said her uncle. "They built it there
ter git the young'uns out o' the way. Hard on some of 'em in bad
weather, it's sech a long walk. Some o' these here flighty folks has
been talkin' up a new buildin' an' a new teacher; but taxes is high
enough as they be, I tell 'em!"

"'Rill Scattergood ain't no sort er teacher," said Mrs. Day. "She
didn't have no sort er control over Marty."

"Huh!" grunted that young man, "she couldn't teach n