oetry sure 's you're born. I can tell it in a minute
'cause it don't come out to the aidge o' the book one side or the other.
Read it out loud, Vildy."

"'Oh! the White Farm and the White Farm!
I love it with all my heart;
And I'm to live at the White Farm,
Till death it do us part.'"

Miss Vilda lifted her head, intoxicated with the melody she had evoked.
"Did you ever hear anything like that," she exclaimed proudly.

"'Oh! the White Farm and the White Farm!
I love it with all my heart;
And I'm to live at the White Farm,
Till death it do us part.'"

"Just hear the sent'ment of it, and the way it sings along like a tune.
I'm goin' to show that to the minister this very night, and that boy's
got to have the best education there is to be had if we have to
mortgage the farm."

Samantha Ann was right. The old homestead wore a new aspect these days,
and a love of all things seemed to have crept into the hearts of its
inmates, as if some beneficent fairy of a spider were spinning a web of
tenderness all about the house, or as if a soft light had dawned in the
midst of great darkness and was gradually brightening into the perfect
day.

In the midst of this new-found gladness and the sweet cares that grew
and multiplied as the busy days went on, Samantha's appetite for
happiness grew by what it fed upon, so that before long she was a little
unhappy that other people (some more than others) were not as happy as
she; and Aunt Hitty was heard to say at the sewing-circle (which had
facilities for gathering and disseminating news infinitely superior to
those of the Associated Press), that Samantha Ann Ripley looked so peart
and young this summer, Dave Milliken had better spunk up and try again.

But, alas! the younger and fresher and happier Samantha looked, the
older and sadder and meeker David appeared, till all hopes of his
"spunking up" died out of the village heart; and, it might as well be
stated, out of Samantha's also. She always thought about it at sun-down,
for it was at sun-down that all their quarrels and reconciliations had
taken place, inasmuch as it was the only leisure time for week-day
courting at Pleasant River.

It was sun-down now; Miss Vilda and Jabez Slocum had gone to Wednesday
evening prayer-meeting, and Samantha was looking for Timothy to go to
the store with her on some household errands. She had seen the children
go into the garden a half hour before, Timothy walking gravely, wi