he was not entirely the same, but he went about his work, making
shoes in the winter and in summer going from house to house to tend the
gardens. At first the neighbors had deprecated his spending so much
unrewarded time, or even forcing them to resuscitate old gardens against
their will; but they had been obliged to yield. He continued his task
with a gentle persistency, and the little town became resplendent in
gardens--great tangles of cherished growth, or little thrifty squares
like patchwork quilts. Jim was not particular as to color and effect. He
was only determined that every plant should prosper. Only the Miller
sisters he had neglected until to-day, and nobody knew whether he
remembered that it was at their house the man had stayed, charming
hearts, before he went away again upon his travels, taking the prettiest
woman of all with him, or whether it was merely connected with a vague
discomfort in his mind.

To-night Jim went into his kitchen and cooked his supper with all a
woman's deftness. His kitchen was always clean, though, to the end of
keeping it so, he had discarded one thing or another, not imperatively
needed. One day he had made a collection of articles only used in a less
primitive housekeeping, from nutmeg-grater to fluting-iron, and tossed
them out of the window into a corner of the yard. There they stayed,
while he added to them a footstool, a crib, and a mixed list of
superfluities; then some of the poorer inhabitants of the town, known as
"Frenchies," discovered that such treasure was there, and grew into the
habit of stealing into the yard twice a week or so and, unmolested,
taking away the plunder.

To-night Jim determined to go to bed early. He had more to do next day
than could possibly be done. As he sat on the front steps, having his
after-supper smoke, he heard the beat of hoofs, and looked up to see
Wilfred whirling by. Lily Marshall sat beside him, all color and
radiance, in her youthful bloom. As Wilfred looked over at him, with a
nod, Jim threw out his arm in a wild beckoning.

"Here!" he called. "Here, you stop a minute!"

Wilfred drew up at the gate, and Jim hurried down to them.

"Which way you goin'?" he called, while Lily looked at him curiously and
Wilfred reddened with shame. He was sorry that this new girl come into
town must see for herself how queer his uncle was.

"Oh, 'most anywheres!" he answered bluffly. "We're just takin' a ride."

"Well, you go down over Alew