ed, set snares, skated, fished and gone
winters to the district school together. Our houses were within a
stone's throw of each other, and no others nearer than a quarter of a
mile. Never had an evening come but I was at Bub's or Bub with us.

The change came hard, and it came hard on our mothers.

Mrs. Ridlet would come over to ask if mother could spare a couple of
eggs. Mother would run to the barn and come back with half a dozen,
saying:

"Don't mind about returning them. I've so many, I like to get rid of
them."

Mother would go to Mrs. Ridlet's and say she'd like to borrow a pound or
two of butter. Her cream didn't "come good" these cold days. Bub's
mother would give her a big pat, with a bunch of grapes stamped on it.

"Don't you fetch it back, Mrs. Pomfrey," she would say. "I've so much
that I shall never miss it."

Now, when they met, they would not look at each other.

Six months passed, and we were lonesome as could be. But we would have
bitten our tongues off rather than speak to the Ridlets.

I didn't have a speck of fun. I'd go swimming, but what's swimming all
to yourself? or tramping, but what's tramping alone? or setting snares,
or anything?

I knew father missed Mr. Ridlet on wet days, when they had used to sit
in the barn talking over crops and stock, but he never let on.

Mother would look out of the window as if expecting some one; then she'd
turn away and sigh. But she never spoke Bub's mother's name--not once.

I saw Bub running toward our house one day, and thought he was coming
in. But no. He ran past without looking up.

It didn't seem much use to do anything--that is, if you wanted to get
any fun out of it.

I never knew exactly what Mr. Ridlet accused father of stealing, and it
seems mother didn't know, either, until one day, six months after the
quarrel, when father said:

"I'd like to know if Ridlet's found his wife's silver dollars."

"Was it those he lost?" asked mother, speaking quickly.

"Yes."

"Mrs. Ridlet's been three years saving them. She said she meant to have
a dozen as nice silver forks as could be made. She thought it would take
about thirty-six dollars."

"She had just thirty-six. She'd sent them to town by Ridlet, but the
jeweler wouldn't agree to make the forks for less than forty dollars.
Ridlet says he brought them back, but it seems they were gone when he
got home."

"And he accused you of taking Mrs. Ridlet's money," said mother. "Now,
I'll _never