They were filled with all kinds of eatables—salads, delicious looking
rolls, pies, puddings, and chicken done to a turn. It took some time to
convince her that everything was cooked in those queer-looking boxes.
“Fireless cookers!” she exclaimed incredulously. “It do beat everythin’,
Tally, how they do things here.”
“I can make one for you, mother, if Martin can’t find time; it may not
look just like the ones here, but it will work splendidly, I know.”
“Shore?” asked her mother doubtfully. “I’d be proud ter hev one.”
The men folks seemed equally interested. They gazed at the canned fruit
in the open cupboards, at the model table set for four, and were quite
unwilling to leave when the boys came to take them to the Sloyd room.
The hall upstairs was crowded, there were so many things to see in the
different rooms. Mrs. Gooch kept an eye out for Billy and Sudie, who had
not put in an appearance.
“They’ll be in the Sloyd room, I know,” Talitha assured her. “The
Shackley boys fairly live there; Abner and Martin wouldn’t be much better
if they weren’t taking extra studies.”
The crowd in the room was beginning to thin a little. A few were still
buying bookracks, paper knives, and other small things which were for
sale.
Sam Coyle could hardly believe that the students had made everything on
exhibition. He halted in front of a big, leather-covered chair. “Look
here, you-all,” he said, sinking down with characteristic indolence.
“Hit sets powerful easy, too. Thet’s what I’d hone ter do if I war
young; we wouldn’t live like we do now, but thet’s plumb past mendin’.”
“No, it isn’t, father, if you’ll let Martin help you,” Talitha answered
decidedly. “I always knew you were handy with tools, and we’re going to
have some—there’s Sudie now, Mrs. Gooch; they’re all over behind that
stack of things in the corner. Come on.”
“Look, mammy!” announced Billy as he pointed to a small oak table,
polished to an astonishing perfection. “Abner did hit, and here’s
somethin’ else,” dragging her farther along toward a wide, hanging shelf.
“Hit’s fer books, and I’m ter have one eend.” He fairly danced with
happiness, and Mrs. Gooch turned to her husband and son a face full of
pride. Not one sacrifice which she had made for her children seemed
worth remembering now.
It was Mrs. Coyle’s turn for self-gratification when Martin showed her
his book-case and seat which were to be carried home in the jolt wagon.
“I’ve some books to put into it, too. Professor Johns is going to let me
take charge of the travelling library in a week or two, then we’ll have
some good times at Goose Creek. Nights, after supper is over, we’ll take
turns reading. Tally and I have it all planned out.”
The Shackley boys were not to be outdone by Martin and Abner. They
showed their planting pins, clock case, and umbrella rack with much
pride. Kid examined everything carefully for the fourth or fifth time.
“I’m comin’ ter Bentville next year,” he announced decidedly. “I’m goin’
ter work in the wood-working department; they want more boys.”
Dan Gooch patted the broad back. “See you do, son. Your pappy kin git
plenty of husky fellers fer blacksmithin’ ’thout usin’ brains, and you’ve
got ’em.” Kid blushed and eyed Sam Coyle furtively, waiting for the
accustomed gibes, but they did not come. The latter individual was
apparently engrossed in a mental estimation of the height of the huge
standpipe in plain sight of the back windows.
“If thar ain’t the Twilligers!” he said, looking around suddenly. “I’d
an idee they’d drapped off’n the fur aidge of the yarth ’fore this, and
had a notion ter begin sarchin’ fer ’em.”
Piny, radiant in a new pink lawn, with her father and mother in tow, bore
directly down upon them.
“Here you are!” she exclaimed. “I reckoned the boys had tolled you over
this way for the wind-up. Look here, pappy, what do you think of this,
and this?” pointing to the various pieces of furniture.
Zeb Twilliger stared open-mouthed to the unconcealed delight of the young
folks. It took some time to convince him and his wife that the boys had
really done the work. “Wal, wal, I swan!” he ejaculated at last, peering
down at each article critically.
“Ye’d better give ’em a lift gittin’ hit home,” suggested Mrs. Twilliger
generously, and Zeb agreed.
A white cloud of dust hovered over the long procession which filed
homeward, back to the hills. Talitha waved good-bye as, one by one, the
college buildings were lost to sight, and Kid—with Abner behind him in
the saddle—voiced the general sentiment of the crowd when he turned to
shout cheerily:
“Hurrah fer Bentville and the Goose Creek folks who’ll be thar next
year!”
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