rious to her, but everything about looked so much smaller.
The houses appeared to have shrunk, fences were dilapidated, gates hung
by one hinge, the paths at the roadside were overgrown with weeds.
Every street and plot of ground at Westchester was so pretty and tidy,
the hills were so high and grand, and there was the beautiful river. To
be sure the great Creator of all had placed it there, had raised the
mountains to their height, but the residents had added the thriftiness
and beauty. Oh, she could never live here! She wondered how her father
had taken to it, and how Mr. Warfield endured it.

Uncle Jason was a better farmer than most of his neighbors. Aunt Jane
took the credit of that; perhaps she did deserve most of it. People and
towns seldom remain stationary; if they do not improve they retrograde.
The railroad was building up North Hope at the expense of the Center.

The house and the front fence needed painting sadly. The flower-beds
looked rather ragged, the grass wanted cutting. Sam had gone in the
spring to learn a mason's trade and only came home for over Sunday. So
Uncle Jason was short-handed.

The children made a rush, then paused. Helen sprang down with a dignity
that checked them, but she kissed them all round, and Aunt Jane, who
was wiping her arms and hands on her apron.

"I thought I'd get trigged up before anyone came," she exclaimed, "but
there's so much to do on Saturday. You might have opened the front door,
'Reely, but never mind," and they all trailed around through the
kitchen. Off the end of the dining room was a small room that Jenny had
used for sewing and odds and ends, and they went thither.

"Now take off your hat. My, didn't you bring anything but that satchel!
And here's a fan--it's hot in here, and as for flies, they eat you up!
'Reely, you and Fan set the table. How you've changed, Helen, you're
most grown up. But land! When I was fourteen I was grown up and did a
woman's work. And you're fifteen! Well, I suppose you've had a grand
good time, and forgot all the useful things you ever knew."

Aunt Jane's tone was good-humored, but it had a certain air of
authority, indicating that Helen could never outgrow _her_ right or
proprietorship.

"No, I do not think I have forgotten much, and certainly have learned a
great deal more," she replied quietly.

"Well, book-learnin' isn't everything. I'd like to know how houses and
farms would go on if everybody kept to books."

"There's