in't very
rugged. She's a real little farmer, she's helped me a sight this
spring; an' you've got Susan Ellen, that makes a complete little
housekeeper for ye as far as she's learnt. I don't see but we're
better off than most folks, each on us having a work mate."

"That's so, John," acknowledged Mrs. Hilton wistfully, beginning to
rock steadily in her straight, splint-bottomed chair. It was always a
good sign when she rocked.

"Where be the little girls so late?" asked their father. "'T is
gettin' long past eight o'clock. I don't know when we've all set up so
late, but it's so kind o' summer-like an' pleasant. Why, where be they
gone?"

"I've told ye; only over to Becker's folks," answered the mother. "I
don't see myself what keeps 'em so late; they beseeched me after
supper till I let 'em go. They're all in a dazzle with the new
teacher; she asked 'em to come over. They say she's unusual smart with
'rethmetic, but she has a kind of a gorpen look to me. She's goin' to
give Katy some pieces for her doll, but I told Katy she ought to be
ashamed wantin' dolls' pieces, big as she's gettin' to be. I don't
know's she ought, though; she ain't but nine this summer."

"Let her take her comfort," said the kind-hearted man. "Them things
draws her to the teacher, an' makes them acquainted. Katy's shy with
new folks, more so 'n Susan Ellen, who's of the business kind. Katy's
shy-feelin' and wishful."

"I don't know but she is," agreed the mother slowly. "Ain't it
sing'lar how well acquainted you be with that one, an' I with Susan
Ellen? 'T was always so from the first. I'm doubtful sometimes our
Katy ain't one that'll be like to get married--anyways not about here.
She lives right with herself, but Susan Ellen ain't nothin' when she's
alone, she's always after company; all the boys is waitin' on her
a'ready. I ain't afraid but she'll take her pick when the time comes.
I expect to see Susan Ellen well settled,--she feels grown up
now,--but Katy don't care one mite 'bout none o' them things. She
wants to be rovin' out o' doors. I do believe she'd stand an' hark to
a bird the whole forenoon."

"Perhaps she'll grow up to be a teacher," suggested John Hilton. "She
takes to her book more 'n the other one. I should like one on 'em to
be a teacher same's my mother was. They're good girls as anybody's
got."

"So they be," said the mother, with unusual gentleness, and the creak
of her rocking-chair was heard, regular as the ticking