ng tackle. The day's sport resulted in three small
"shiners." But he had enjoyed the day--there had been the stillness and
the sunlight, and the good company of Bob Flippin and his daughter
Mary.

The dogs followed, and Mary from the other side of the stream watched
the little procession, Calvin in the lead with the load, the Judge
straight and slim with his fluff of white hair, the three little dogs
paddling on their short legs.

"Judge Bannister of Huntersfield," said Mary Flippin. Then she raised
Fiddle high in her arms. "Say _Granddad_, Fiddle," she whispered, "say
_Granddad_."

II

The Flippin farmhouse was wide and rambling. It had none of the classic
elegance of the old Colonial mansions, but it had a hall in the middle
with the sitting-room on one side and on the other an old-fashioned
parlor with a bedroom back of it. The dining-room was back of the
sitting-room, and beyond that was the kitchen, and a succession of
detached buildings which served as dairy, granary, tool-house and
carriage house in the old fashion. There was much sunlight and
cleanliness in the farmhouse, and beauty of a kind, for the Flippins had
been content with simple things, and Mary's taste was evidenced in the
restraint with which the new had been combined with the old. She and her
mother did most of the work. It was not easy in these days to get
negroes to help. Daisy, the mulatto, had come down for the summer, but
they had no assurance that when the winter came they could keep her.
Divested of her high heels and city affectations, Daisy was just a
darkey, of a rather plain, comfortable, efficient type. When Mary went
in, she was getting supper.

"Has Mother come, Daisy?"

"No, Miss, she ain', an' yo' Poppa ain' come. An' me makin' biscuits."

"Your biscuits are always delicious, Daisy."

"An' me and John wants to go to the movies, Miss Mary. An' efen the
supper is late."

"You can leave the dishes until mornin', Daisy."

Mary smiled and sighed as she went on with Fiddle to her own room. The
good old days of ordered service were over.

She went into the parlor bedroom. It was the one which she and Fiddle
occupied. She bathed and dressed her baby, and changed her own frock.
Then she entered the long, dim parlor. There was a family Bible on the
table. It was a great volume with steel engravings. It had belonged to
her father's father. In the middle of the book were pages for births and
deaths. The records were written legi