lane which skirts the edge of the wood. He had a stick in his hand with
which he struck at the foliage of the hazel brush or decapitated a
milkweed.

"There's Nort!" I exclaimed.

It was miraculous to see Harriet twitch off her apron and, with two or
three deft pats, arrange her hair.

When Nort saw us, for we couldn't help going outside to meet him, he
raised one hand, shouting:

"Hello, there, David!"

I remember thinking what a boy he looked. Not large, not very strong,
but with a lithe swinging step and an odd tilt of the head, a little
backward, as though he were looking up for the joy of it. I felt my
heart rising and warming at the very sight of him.

"Well, Miss Grayson," said he, coming up the steps, "have you decided
yet whether you and David are most indebted to the Macintoshes or the
Scribners?"

There was laughter in his eyes as he shook Harriet's hand, and I could
see the faint flush in her cheeks and the little positive nod of the
head she had when she was most pleased, and didn't want it to appear too
plainly. Nort had long ago discovered her undying passion for her
ancestors, and already knew the complete record of that Macintosh who
was an officer in the Colonial army, and who, if one were to judge by
Harriet's account, was the origin of all the good traits of the Grayson
family.

When Harriet is especially pleased with any one, particularly if he is a
man, she thinks at once that he must be hungry; and no sooner were the
greetings well over than she escaped to the kitchen.

Nort at once put on a portentous look of solemn concern, his face
changing so quickly that it was almost comical.

"David," said he, "here we are right up to another issue, and no ideas."

He spoke as though he were the sole proprietor of the _Star_.

"Well," I said, "a little thing like that never yet prevented a
newspaper from appearing regularly."

"No," he laughed, "but think of the perfectly grand opportunity that is
going to waste. Ed Smith away for another week!"

"We enjoyed printing the poetry, didn't we?"

"Didn't we!" he responded. "I thought last Wednesday night that it was
pretty nearly the biggest and most interesting work in the world to edit
a country newspaper."

"And you told Anthy."

He glanced around at me quickly.

"She told you?"

"No," I said, "but I knew."

"Yes, I told her," he said.

He paused and looked off across our quiet hills; the autumn air was cool
and sweet.

"I won