came out of the
pot as spongy and light as possible; and the loaf of "seconds" bread
was sweet as it is hard for bread to be that is not made near the mill;
and if you and I had been there, I promise you we would not have minded
the knives and forks, or the cups either. Mrs. Bartlett's tea was not
of corresponding quality, for it came from a country store. However,
the cream went far to mend even that. The back door was open for the
heat; and the hill-side could be seen through the doorway and part of
the soft green meadow slope; and the grasshopper's song and the bell
tinkle were not bad music.

"And who was that came with you, dear?" Mrs. Bartlett asked as they sat
at table.

"With me? Did you see me come?"

"Surely. I was in the garden. What should hinder me? Who was it druv
you, dear?"

"It was an accident. Young Mr. Knowlton had got into some trouble with
his horse, riding out our way, and came to ask how he could get home.
So I brought him."

"That's Evan Knowlton! him they are making a soldier of?"

"He's made. He's done with his education. He is at home now."

"Ain't goin' to be a soldier after all?"

"O yes; he _is_ a soldier; but he has got a leave, to be home for
awhile."

"Well, what sort is he? I don't see what they wanted to make a soldier
of him for; his grand'ther would ha' been the better o' his help on the
farm, seems to me; and now he'll be off to the ends o' the earth, and
doin' nobody knows what. It's the wisdom o' this world. But how has he
turned out, Die?"

"I don't know; well, I should think."

"And his sisters at home would ha' been the better of him. By-and-by
Mr. Bowdoin will die; and then who'll look after the farm, or the
girls?"

"Still, mother, it's something more and something better to be
educated, as he is, and to know the world and all sorts of things, as
he does, than just to live on the farm here in the mountains, and raise
corn and eat it, and nothing else. Isn't it?"

"Why should it be better, child?"

"It is nice to be educated," said Diana softly. And she thought much
more than she said.

"A man can get as much edication as he can hold, and live on a farm
too. I've seen sich. Some folks can't do no better than hoe--corn like
my Joe. But there ain't no necessity for that. But arter all, what does
folks live for, Diana?"

"I never could make out, Mother Bartlett."

The old lady looked at her thoughtfully and wistfully, but said no
more. Diana cleared the