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THE LILAC LADY
THE SECOND OF THE PEACE GREENFIELD BOOKS
BY RUTH ALBERTA BROWN
Author of "At The Little Brown House," "Tabitha At Ivy Hall,"
"Tabitha's Glory," "Tabitha's Vacation," Etc.
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
CHICAGO AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, MCMXIV
By The Saalfield Publishing Co.
TO
EDITH HASERICK MCFARLANE,
THE SAINT ELSPETH OF MY GIRLHOOD,
THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
[Illustration: "Oh," cried Gail in quick sympathy, "what a feeble old
creature! It is a shame she has to beg her living. Where is my purse?"]
CONTENTS
I. EXPLORING THE NEW HOME
II. THE FLAG ROOM
III. CHRISTMAS DAY WITH THE CAMPBELLS
IV. A ZEALOUS LITTLE MISSIONARY
V. AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION
VI. PEACE'S SPRING VACATION
VII. A VOICE FROM THE LILAC BUSHES
VIII. A PICNIC IN THE ENCHANTED GARDEN
IX. GIUSEPPE NICOLI AND THE MONKEY
X. THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL
XI. PEACE FINDS NEW PLAYMATES
XII. A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM
XIII. CHILDREN'S DAY AT HILL STREET CHURCH
XIV. HOW THE FOURTH OF JULY MONEY WAS SPENT
XV. PEACE GIVES THE LILAC LADY AN IDEA
XVI. THE LILAC LADY FALLS ASLEEP
THE LILAC LADY
CHAPTER I
EXPLORING THE NEW HOME
Two days after the night of the memorable surprise party in the little
brown house, the place stood dismantled and deserted under the naked,
shivering trees, good-byes had been spoken, and the six smiling sisters
had driven away from their Parker home amid much fluttering of
handkerchiefs and waving of hands. Everyone was sorry to see them go,
yet all rejoiced in the great good fortune which had befallen the little
orphan brood. Even after the Judge's carriage, which was to take them to
the station, disappeared around the bend of the creek road, the
enthusiastic crowd of friends and neighbors clustered about the sagging
gate continued to shout their joking warnings and happy wishes upon the
crisp, frosty, morning air.
"There," breathed Peace, grinning from ear to ear, as she slowly unwound
from the corkscrew twist she had assumed in her attempt to catch the
last glimpse of the old home. "They're all out of sight now. I can't
even see Hec Abbott any longer up in the tree with his dirty
handkerchief. Oh, Mr. Judge, I forgot you were our coachman this
morning, but his handkerchief _is_ awful dirty! It always is. I guess
his mother doesn't chase him up like Gail does us with clean ones. Faith
Greenfield, what do you mean by kicking me like that? Ain't there room
enough on that back seat for your big feet?"
"Little girls should be heard and not seen," quoted Cherry with her most
sanctimonious air, noting the gathering frown on the older sister's
face, and not quite understanding what had gone amiss.
"Yes, that's just what Peace believes, too," cried Hope with her happy,
contagious laugh in which Gail and the Judge and even Faith joined,
making the sharp air ring with their hilarity.
"Guess this ride must make you feel ticklish, too," suggested Peace,
looking over her shoulder with a comical, self-complacent air at the
crowded rear seat of the carryall. "I 'xpected to see some of you
bawling about now--"
"Bawling!" echoed the girls in genuine surprise, while the old Judge
chuckled to himself. "What for?"
"'Cause we've left Parker for good and all. We're never going to live
there any more."
"But we shall visit there often. Grandpa said so," cried Hope, warmly.
"It isn't as if we were bound for the poor-farm or some dreadful orphan
home. We might have reason to cry then; but as it is, we're going to
Martindale to live in a splendid great house with splendid, lovely
people; and I can't help wanting to jump up and shout for gladness, even
though we do love Parker and all the people there who have been so good
to us--"
"Good for you, Miss Hope! Hip, hip, hurrah!" broke in the Judge,
flapping the reins wildly as he doffed his hat and cheered heartily.
"That's the proper spirit! We Parkerites don't expect you to break your
hearts because you are going to a new home; we'd think it very queer
indeed if you did. But we are glad to know this old town holds a tender
spot in your memories. We shall miss you more than you will us, which is
only natural; but as Hope says, you will be often among us as visitors,
even though the little brown house will never be home to you again.
Doctor and Mrs. Campbell have not only opened the door of their big
house to you, but also the door of their hearts. Go in and take
possession. You can make them the happiest people on earth if you want
to--and I know you do. They intended to drive over after you this
morning, but we villagers said no. They ought to be in Martindale to
greet you, and we certainly deserved the privilege of escorting you
to--"
"Ain't it nice to be pop'lar?" sighed Peace in ecstasy. "We're all bones
of _condescension_ today--now what are you laughing at?"
"Oh, we've reached the station already," chirped Allee with a suddenness
which made everyone jump.
"And if there isn't Mr. Strong!" cried the older girls in astonishment.
"How did you ever get here ahead of us? We left you sitting on Peace's
gate-post."
"He sneaked," Peace declared without giving him a chance for reply. "He
can sneak in anywhere. Oh, I didn't mean that as a _complimemp_, Mr.
Preacher. You know I didn't! But you truly go so like a cat that people
never know when you will jump out at them. Where is Elspeth--I mean
Pet--I mean--Oh, there she is in the station house, and Miss Truesdale
and Miss Dunbar and Dr. Bainbridge! We're much obliged that so many of
you have come down to make sure we left town. Let me get out of here,
Judge! I want to kiss Glen again." Scrambling excitedly out of her seat
beside the dignified driver, she was over the wheels before he could
stop her, and into the arms of the waiting friends.
None of the orphan sisters had expected such a glorious send-off--nor,
indeed, had the Parker friends planned it beforehand. It was just one of
those acts of kindness born of the impulse of the moment and made
possible because of a shortcut to the station and the grocer's wagon
which stood hitched in front of Mr. Hartman's door. But the sight of the
little group of neighbors on the station platform was very gratifying to
every one of the youthful Greenfields, and each proceeded to show her
pleasure in her own characteristic way. This second farewell-taking was
very brief, however, for down the tracks came the puffing train,
stopping at the narrow platform only long enough for the laughing,
chattering girls to climb aboard, before it glided away again, with
Peace's shrill protests trailing off into silence: "I don't see why we
have to take the train when it is such a teeny short ride. I'd rather go
by street-car. I didn't kiss Elspeth but once, and the Judge looked as
if he was dying for another--"
Silently, soberly, the gay little company at the railroad station
dispersed to their various homes; but fortunately for the band of
inexperienced travellers aboard the flying train, there was no time for
serious thought, so brief was their journey. Scarcely were they settled
with their hand-bags and grips when the brakeman threw open the door and
strode down the aisle, bawling loudly, "Martindale, Martindale! Our next
stop is Martindale Union Depot!" And before they could realize what was
happening, the porter had bundled them off in the great, dark, noisy
station-yard, filled with throngs of excited, hurrying people passing in
and out of the heavy iron gates.
Caught in the jam, there was a moment of breathless bewilderment; a
frantic disentangling of themselves from the pushing, shoving crowd; a
hurried, frightened survey of the sea of unfamiliar faces around them,
and then straight into the arms of the smiling college President the
anxious sextette walked.
"Well, well, well!" he cried with boyish eagerness, trying to gather
them all in one embrace. "Here you are at last! I've waited one solid
hour for this train. Those Parker people tried to tell me it was my
place to stand in the doorway over at the house and welcome you there,
but blessed if I could wait! Neither could Grandma. I thought I had
stolen away without anyone seeing me, but before I had reached the
car-tracks, there she was right at my heels. Here, mother, are
your--own!"
No welcome from the doorsteps of the great house could have warmed and
thrilled those six hearts as did the husky, tremulous words of greeting
in the dim, smoky station amid the clanging engines and shouted orders
of trainmen. Home! Ah, what a glorious feeling of possession! The tears
which had not come at thought of leaving the old home now welled up in
the blue eyes and in the brown, but they were tears of joy and
thanksgiving.
"I knew someone would do some bawling before we got through with this,"
sniffed Peace, searching in vain for the handkerchief which was never to
be found in her pocket, and finally wiping her eyes on the august
President's coat-sleeve. "Let's go home now. I want to see what it's
like. You didn't bring the carriage, did you? It's just as well, I
guess, for I s'pose we'll have lots of rides anyway. Only I wanted to
see if the horses looked anything like Black Prince. Is this our car?
Oak Street--I'll remember that; I may want to do some travelling all by
myself some day. If you've got ten rooms in your house, how many are you
going to turn over to us? For our very own, I mean. Three in a room
makes things awfully crowded if the rooms are as teeny as they were in
our house in Parker. 'Tisn't so bad in winter, but in summer we nearly
roast to death nights. Do you have much comp'ny, and will we have to
give up our rooms to them all the time? I forgot to ask you about these
things before we said we'd come."
"Peace!" reproved Gail in an undertone, trying to check the flow of
questions and information pouring so rapidly from the lively tongue.
"Don't talk all the time. Give grandpa a chance to say a few words."
"Yes, I will," responded the child with angelic sweetness, in such loud
tones that she could be heard all over the car. "I'm waiting for him to
say a few words now. How about it, grandpa? Shall we each have a room or
must we double up or thribble--"
"Peace!" called Allee in wild excitement, "there is Frances Sherrar's
house!"
"Where? Is it, grandpa?" asked Cherry, a little twinge of envy seizing
her as she remembered her younger sisters' visit there a few weeks
before.
"Yes," he replied, glancing hastily out of the window, "I think very
likely it was, as they live on the corner we have just passed, and the
next street is where we get off. Press the button, Curlypate, or the
conductor will carry us by. I didn't know you were acquainted with the
Sherrars, Abigail. Frances is a student at the University; you will
probably be in some of her classes. Give me your hand, Hope. There,
mother, all our family are off. Right about face! One block west,
and--here we are. Welcome home, my children! Peace, how do you like the
looks of it?"
They had paused in front of a great, rambling, old house, set in the
midst of a wide lawn, brown and sere now with approaching winter, and
surrounded by huge, knotted, gnarled, old oaks, whose dry leaves still
clung to the twisted branches and rustled in the crisp air. A fat,
sleek, black Tabby lay asleep on the warm porch-rail; a gaunt, ungainly
greyhound lay sunning himself on the door mat, and from inside somewhere
came the sound of a canary's riotous song. The whole place breathed of
home, and with a deep sigh of content, Peace lifted her great, brown
eyes to the President's face and whispered, "It seems 'sif I b'longed
already."
"You do," he murmured huskily. "This is home, dear."
Hand in hand they walked up the path and through the door into the big
hall, flooded with warm sunshine and sweet with the smell of roses. Up
the stairway they marched, followed by the other sisters, all silent,
wondering, but happy, and paused in the doorway of a large, airy room,
furnished with easy-chairs and couches, a tempting array of late books,
and a dainty sewing-table, heaped with pretty materials such as young
girls love. "This is mother's domain," the President announced, stepping
aside to let them enter. "Hang your wraps in that closet for the time
being, make yourselves presentable--there is a mirror on purpose for
prinking--and then get acquainted with your new home. There is still an
hour and a half before luncheon will be served, and that ought to give
you quite an opportunity to make discoveries. Now away with you!"
"But--," "How," "What do you mean?" blurted out the astonished girls,
wondering whether he was in earnest or just joking, for this seemed a
queer way to introduce them to their new life.
"Just what I say," he laughed. "Mother thought we ought to conduct you
about the place and explain all the different phases of your new home,
but I am inclined to believe you will like it better if you can make the
tour all by yourselves. Young folks usually glory in unexplored fields.
Now to it, for time is fleeting! I shall call for a report of your
discoveries at luncheon. A prize for the one who has seen the most."
"Do we have to go by ourselves?" Peace lingered to ask.
"As you wish," was the brief response; and with his hat in his hand, the
busy President descended the stairs, leaving a very bewildered group in
the sewing-room behind him.
"Well!" Gail ejaculated. "How shall we begin?"
"I saw a piano as we came through the hall below," Faith half whispered.
"And books! Everywhere!" cried Cherry, her eyes fastened longingly upon
the little book-case in the corner. "Do they really belong to us now?"
"Yes, of course," answered Peace in business-like tones. "Come on,
Allee; let's get to work and see what we can find before lunch time.
This is a pretty big house, and we've got to hustle if we get all around
it in an hour and a half. Wonder where grandpa and grandma went. Shall
we commence at the bottom and work up, or start in at the attic? I guess
the attic first will be best, seeing we've come up one flight of stairs
already, and it would be just a waste of time to go down and have to
climb them all again." Answering her own question, she clutched Alice's
hand and disappeared in one direction, as the sisters, following her
example, scattered about the great house on their tours of inspection.
The next ninety minutes were busy ones in the Campbell house, and it was
necessary to ring the dinner bell twice before all members of the happy
family were summoned to the table.
"Well, how goes it?" smiled the President. "Judging from the time it
took to gather the clans, some of you must have been pretty busy."
"We were," dreamily murmured Cherry, who had been dragged bodily from
the stacks of books in the library.
"Made any great discoveries?"
"Yes, indeed!" they cried in unison.
"Good! I'm all impatience! Relate your adventures. We are anxious to
hear how you like your new home--mother and I. Abigail, you are the
oldest; suppose you begin."
"I didn't get very far, I am afraid," said Gail modestly. "Just a peep
into the rooms upstairs and a beginning down here when I found Gussie
almost on the verge of tears because her dessert had burned black and
she had no time to make any more; so I--"
"Bet our talking burned up her pies," Peace was heard to murmur
remorsefully.
"--helped her out a little," continued Gail, "and by that time the bell
rang, so there was no opportunity for any further investigations."
"Saint Elizabeth," said the President reverently, while the white-haired
mistress of the house beamed her approval.
"Now, Faith,--but there is really no need of asking her about her
discoveries. She got no further than the parlor with its piano. Now, did
you?"
"No, grandpa," Faith confessed unblushingly. "I saw it when we came in,
and I simply couldn't resist it a minute longer than was absolutely
necessary. There will be lots of days for getting acquainted here, and
besides, I knew Peace would carry off the prize--"
"Me carry off the prize!" Peace interrupted. "I've never got a prize for
anything in my life--"
"Only because there never was one offered before for the person who
could see the most or talk the longest," laughed Faith, and Peace
subsided suddenly.
"Saint Cecilia,--she could not get past the piano," teased Dr. Campbell,
when the shout of laughter at Faith's sally had died away. "Hope, what
have you to say for yourself?"
"Not much. I visited all the rooms upstairs and down; fed the canary;
got acquainted with Blinks, the cat, and Kyte, the hound; found Towzer
and tried to make him be friends with Kyte, but he wouldn't be coaxed.
Gussie said there were some kittens in the basement, so I went down
there to find them, but the boy from the hardware store was there
working on the furnace, and some way we fell to talking about studies,
and he was so discouraged over his algebra lesson for night-school that
I stopped to see if I could help him out a little, and the bell rang
Just as we got the third problem worked."
"My gentle Saint Lucia," he said in praise, as he turned from her to the
next sister in age. "Cherry, give an account of your wanderings."
"I wandered downstairs as far as the library--I guess that is what you
call it."
"And then what?" for she stopped as if her tale were told.
"That's all. I stayed there."
"Oh!" The President wilted, Mrs. Campbell stared, and for a moment even
the sisters were silent in surprise at the matter-of-fact tone of the
narrator; then the whole assembly burst into another merry shout, much
to the disgust of poor Cherry, who could see no cause for amusement, and
voiced her sentiments by saying petulantly, "I don't see anything the
matter with that! What difference is there between playing the piano all
the morning and reading books?"
"It wasn't what you did that amused us," said Mrs. Campbell soothingly.
"It was the way you told it. We won't laugh any more."
"Oh!" breathed the ruffled damsel in relief, "if that's all, I don't
care how much you laugh. But you'll have a better chance with Peace--she
never can tell anything straight."
"What kind of a saint is Cherry?" inquired the younger girl, ignoring
the compliment she had just received. "If Gail is Saint 'Lizabeth and
Faith is Saint Cecilia and Hope is Saint Lucy, what's Cherry?"
"Saint Bookworm, I guess, Miss Curiosity-Box. What have you been doing
this morning?"
"Oh, lots of things," she sighed heavily. "Allee and me went together.
We began with the attic, which is full of trunks of old clothes and
battered-up furniture and cobwebs, and has two rooms for the hired girls
to sleep in. Gussie's room is just _suburb_! It's dec'rated with the
queerest looking old bird of a bedstead--"
"Peace! What slang!" cried Faith in genuine horror.
"It's no such thing! It is a bird! She calls it a swan, for it's got a
tall, crooked neck for the foot-board, and if I had it in my room, I'd
hang curtains on its tail. It could be done just splendid! I'll show you
after lunch if you don't b'lieve me."
"Oh, we believe you! Go on. I'm interested in that room," begged Hope,
wondering why she too had not begun with the attic.
"Then on the wall she has a great fish-net full of the prettiest
postcards of Norway and Sweden and De'mark. She's a Swede, you
know,--Gussie is; and her married brother and two sisters and
grandmother still live over there. That's where the fish-net came from.
I didn't have time to stop long to look at the cards 'cause there was so
much else to do 'fore lunch time, but she's invited us to come up some
evening when she's through work and then she'll tell all about them.
There's the loveliest green and yellow quilt on her bed that she made
all herself. She said grandma had a red one for her to use, but it
seemed more like home with her own things, so she uses them instead of
those that b'long to the house. But the prettiest of everything is a
queer little piece of glass hanging in the window which makes her room
look like a real rainbow on sunny days, 'cause the _prison respects_ the
light and sorts out all the colors. Oh, you needn't laugh and think you
know better! Gussie told us all about it, didn't she, Allee?"
"Gussie did not call it a _prison_," Hope could not refrain from saying.
"It is a prism, and it re--it isn't _respects_ the light, grandpa--"
"No. Refracts is the word she wants to use. Peace tries to drink in so
much information that she can't digest it all."
"Maybe that is what's the matter," Peace agreed thoughtfully. "Anyway,
her room is a beauty--lots prettier that Marie's, though Marie has the
same chance of making hers look nice that Gussie has. There's the same
difference in the girls themselves that there is in their rooms, too."
"Why, what do you mean?" cried the astonished mistress of the house,
while the President nodded his head in approval at the child's
observations.
"Well, Gussie is good-natured and 'bliging, while Marie is cross and
grouchy. We hadn't got the knob of her door turned before she ordered us
out of her room and told us to mind our own business."
"Poor childie, I ought to have cautioned you not to go into either of
those attic rooms without the girls' permission. You see, while they
work here, that is the one place in the house which is really theirs,
and they don't want the rest of the family intruding."
"Yes, I know now. Gussie told me how it was when I spoke of Marie's
being cross, but we never touched a thing; we just looked, didn't we,
Allee? Marie had the tooth-ache, and that's enough to make anyone ugly.
I got her some funny stuff that a shoemaker in Parker gave me once when
I had the tooth-ache. After that she was a little pleasanter to us--that
is, for a time. It did stop the aching right away, but it took all the
skin off her cheek where she put the medicine--it is to be rubbed on
outside. I forgot to tell her it would do that, so she didn't like it
very well when her face began to peel off, 'cause she is going to the
theatre tonight with her beau. But when she jawed about it, I told her
I'd rather have a skinned face and a chance to go to the theatre, than
an aching tooth any day of the week, and fin'ly she decided she would,
too. I guess I'll like her in time, but I like Gussie better. Then we
went on downstairs and 'xamined the rooms on that floor. The big front
room is awfully pretty, and so is grandma's room where she sews, but the
other three bedrooms are very bare and ugly-looking. Is that where
you're going to put us, grandpa?"
"Peace!" shrieked the sisters in horrified chorus.
"Yes!" roared the delighted President, and even Mrs. Campbell joined in
his merriment.
"Well, I s'pose it is healthy," Peace reluctantly admitted; then as if
divining a joke somewhere, she smiled serenely and continued her
recital. "We looked through the parlor and library and dining-room and
where you put company when they come, and then we came to the kitchen.
We got there ahead of Gail all right, for Gussie was just making some
pies and reading a book at the same time."
"A book!" echoed Mrs. Campbell, a slight frown gathering on the usually
placid forehead.
"Yes, it was a _pome_ of some kind that she was trying to learn. She
wants to be a _neducated_ Swede. She got through High School, but she
wants to know more'n that, so's she can be a teacher some day. That's
how she comes to be cooking for other people. She is a good cook and can
make pretty good money that way. She isn't a big spender, so every month
she can put away 'most all of her wages towards going to Normal School.
I always thought Normal School was where they sent bad boys and girls
who couldn't be good at home, but she says I mean Reform School. I guess
she'll get to Normal School all right. I told her Gail would help her
with her lessons when they got too hard for her alone, 'cause Gail's to
go to the University right away; but I didn't think Faith would be much
good at that, as long's she isn't quite through High School herself. I
told her Faith could make lovely fancy things to eat and would like
awfully well to teach her when she had any spare time, and Gussie says
she'll be tickled to learn, 'cause she is only a plain cook and not up
on frills yet."
Faith and the President exchanged comical glances across the table, but
Peace was too much interested in her cake and fruit to notice what was
going on around her, and blissfully continued, "We went down in the
basement, too, and saw that boy from Benton's. His name is Caspar Dodds.
His father is dead--what a lot of dead folks there are in this
world!--and he has to earn money to take care of his mother and two
sisters. She does plain sewing, and I promised you'd hire her sometimes,
grandma. They live on Sixteenth Street, just at the corner where the
Pendennis car turns off from the bridge. He told me how to get there.
He's going to night-school so's he can learn the education he's missing
daytimes, and says he gets along well in everything but algebra. I guess
that's how he came to speak to Hope about it. I told him she'd be glad
to help him with 'xamples he couldn't do, 'cause she was Professor
Watson's star scholar in that. Gussie told _us_ about the kittens, too,
so I knew Hope would be down to find them, and that way she'd see
Caspar. She must have come along right after us or she wouldn't have
found him, 'cause he was 'most ready to go when we went out to the barn.
"Jud had just brought in the horses from exercising them, and I told him
I guessed likely we'd help him at that job after this, for all of us
like to ride. At first he wasn't going to let us see the horses and we
had to do a lot of talking 'fore he'd give in. He used awful poor
grammar, and when he told us the stable wasn't the place for little
girls and that we better go in the house and learn to cook like Gussie,
I asked him why he didn't get some books and learn to speak right like
Gussie, instead of sitting on an old box and reading yellow
newspapers--well, it _was_ yellow, just as yellow and musty and old as
it could be! And he's too nice looking to be nothing but a horseman all
his life. When I told him that, he got interested and fin'ly showed us
some books he was trying to study, but he can't see sense in the
grammar. Gussie promised to help him, but she never has much time for
such things, and he thinks she thinks he's a plumb dunce. I promised to
ask her if that's the way she felt, but he said I mustn't; so I did the
next best I could think of--I told him Cherry would study grammar with
him. She uses the same book he has in the barn, and--"
"Peace Greenfield, did you really tell him that?" gasped poor frightened
Cherry, looking as if she had just heard her death sentence pronounced.
"Why, yes! I thought you'd be glad to help him out that much. I haven't
got as far as grammar in school yet, or I'd teach him all myself; but I
promised to _talk_ proper grammar to him, so's to help all I could. What
do you look so scared about, Cherry? He really wants to learn; he ain't
fooling. And he's an awful nice man. He showed us the squirrels' hole in
the vacant oak by the barn--I mean the hollow oak--and took us down to
the boat-house on the river. You never told us anything about the river
being so near here, grandpa. And he pointed out the University buildings
through the trees, and promised to show us around the grounds right
after lunch if you didn't have time to bother. He let us go up in the
barn loft and says if you're willing, we can have a playhouse up there
in the part with the window that looks out over the river. Then he
pulled out his watch to let us know it was lunch time, but we told him
right square out that there was one more thing we wanted to see, lunch
time or no lunch time, and that was the horses. So after he grumbled
some more about children being such nuisances, he took us downstairs
again, and showed us your Marmalade and Champagne. Oh, but--"
"What?" shouted the whole family in shocked amazement.
"Marmalade and Champagne," Peace repeated more slowly. "That is what Jud
called them. They aren't as pretty as our Black Prince, 'cause they are
only red, and a red horse is never as nice as a black--"
"Horses! What funny names!" laughed Hope.
"She has made a mistake," smiled Mrs. Campbell. "They are Marmaduke and
Charlemagne. My nephew's children named them, which accounts for their
high-sounding titles. I am glad you like Marmaduke and Charlemagne,
Peace. We think they are very intelligent animals. Jud has succeeded in
teaching them several rather clever tricks."
"Yes, I like the horses and I like the people. It's going to be nice to
live with such a _neducated_ bunch. Marie's the only one that doesn't
want to learn more, but p'raps she'll get over it. Who wins the prize,
grandpa? That's all Allee and me saw. And what is the prize?"
"After dinner in the den tonight I'll tell you the secret," the
President promised. "I had no idea it would take so long to recount your
adventures, but my time is up now. I must go back to the University at
once. And by the way, Peace, I am afraid Jud will have to show you
around the campus if you must see it this afternoon. I have an important
meeting at two o'clock."