in the township--as good neighbors as
a man need ask for; except that I never could agree with Zenas Smith
about line fences, when the time came for them. Once we almost came to
the spite-fence stage; but our children were such friends that they kept
us from that disgrace. But Mrs. Smith was as good a woman in sickness as
I ever saw.

George Story was working for the Smiths, and was almost one of the
family. He finally took the northeast quarter of the section, and lives
there yet. David Roebuck, J.P.'s son, when he came of age acquired the
eighty next to me, and thus completed the settlement of the section.
Most of the Roebuck girls and boys became school-teachers, and they had
the biggest mail of anybody in the neighborhood. I never saw Dave
Roebuck spelled down but once, and that was by his sister Theodosia,
called "Dose" for short.

We went to both houses and called as we went home so as to begin
neighboring with them. Magnus stopped at his own place, and I went on,
wondering if the Frost boy I had engaged to look out for my stock while
I was gone had been true to his trust. I saw that there had been a lot
of redding up done; and as I came around the corner of the house I heard
sounds within as of some one at the housework. The door was open, and as
I peeped in, there, of all people, was Grandma Thorndyke, putting the
last touches to a general house-cleaning.

The floor was newly scrubbed, the dishes set away in order, and all
clean. The churn was always clean inwardly, but she had scoured it on
the outside. There was a geranium in bloom in the window, which was as
clear as glass could be made. The bed was made up on a different plan
from mine, and the place where I hung my clothes had a flowered cotton
curtain in front of it, run on cords. It looked very beautiful to me;
and my pride in it rose as I gazed upon it. Grandma Thorndyke had not
heard me coming, and gave way to her feelings as she looked at her
handiwork in her manner of talking to herself.

"That's more like a human habitation!" she ejaculated, standing with her
hands on her hips. "I snum! It looked like a hooraw's nest!"

"It looks a lot better," I agreed. She was startled at seeing me, for
she expected to get away, with Henderson L. Burns as he came back from
his shooting of golden plover, all unknown to me. But we had quite a
visit all by ourselves. She said quite pointedly, that somebody had been
keeping her family in milk and butter and vegeta