THE GOLDEN BIRD

BY

MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS

Author of "The Melting of Molly, " "Phyllis, " "Sue Jane, " "The Tinder Box, "etc. 

ILLUSTRATED BY EDWARD L. CHASE

NEW YORKTHE CENTURY CO. 1918

Copyright, 1918, byTHE CENTURY CO. 

Copyright, 1918, byBUTTERICK PUBLISHING COMPANY

_Published, September, 1918_

[Transcriber's note: Minor typos corrected. ]

[Illustration: "Oh, how beautiful!" exclaimed Polly, all restraint leavingher young face and body as she fell on her knees before the sultan]

TOIDA CLYDE CLARKEWHOSE COURAGE INSPIRES ME

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Oh, how beautiful!" exclaimed Polly, all restraint leaving her young faceand body as she fell on her knees before the sultan

A poor old sheep was lying flat with pathetic inertia while Adam stood overher with something in his arms

I put his babykins in a big feed-basket and the lamb twins came andwelcomed him

And Bud was beautiful in the "custom-made" fifteen-dollar gray cheviot withhis violet eyes and yellow shock, in spite of his red ears

THE GOLDEN BIRD

CHAPTER I

The primary need of a woman's nature is always supposed to be love, butvery suddenly I discovered that in my case it was money, a lot of it andquick. That is, I thought I needed a lot and in a very great hurry; but ifI had known what I know now, I might have been contented feeding upon thebread of some kind of charity, for instance, like being married to MatthewBerry the very next day after I discovered my poverty. But at that periodof my life I was a very ignorant girl, and in the most noble spirit of adesperate adventure I embarked upon the quest of the Golden Bird, which inone short year has landed me--I am now the richest woman in the world. 

"But, Ann Craddock, you know nothing at all about a chicken in any morenatural state than in a croquette, " stormed Matthew at me as he savagelyspeared one of those inoffensive articles of banquet diet with a sharpsilver fork while he squared himself with equal determination between meand any possible partner for the delicious one-step that the band in theball-room was beginning to send out in inviting waves of sound to round thedancers in from loitering over their midnight food. 

"The little I do _not_ know about the chicken business, after one weekspent in pursuit of that knowledge through every weird magazine and stateagricultural bulletin in the public library, even you could learn, MatthewBerry, with your lack of sympathy with the great American wealth producer, the humble female chicken known in farmer patois as a hen. Did you knowthat it only costs about two dollars and thirteen cents to feed a hen awhole year and that she will produce twenty-seven dollars and a half forher owner, the darling thing? I know I'll just love her when I get to knowher--them better, as I will in only about eighteen hours now. "

"Ann, you are mad--mad!" foamed Matthew, as he set down his plate ofperfectly good and untasted food, and buried his head in his hands untilhis mop of black hair looked like a big blot of midnight. 

"I'm not mad, Matthew, just dead poor, an heiress out of a job and with thenecessity of earning her bread by the sweat of her brow instead ofconsuming cake by the labor of other people. Uncle Cradd is coming in againwith a two-horse wagon, and the carriage to move us out to Elmnestto-morrow morning. Judge Rutherford will attend to selling all the propertyand settle with father's creditors. Another wagon is coming for father'slibrary, and in two days he won't know that Uncle Cradd and I have movedhim, if I can just get him started on a bat with Epictetus or old Horace. Then me for the tall timbers and my friend the hen. 

"Oh, Ann, for the love of high heaven, marry me to-morrow, and let me moveyou and Father Craddock over into that infernal, empty old barn I keep openas a hotel for nigger servants. Marry me instead--"

"Instead of the hen?" I interrupted him with a laugh. "I can't, Matt, youdear thing. I honestly can't. I've got to go back to the land from which myrace sprang and make it blossom into a beautiful existence for those twodear old boys. When Uncle Cradd heard of the smash from that horriblephosphate deal he was at the door the next morning at sun-up, driving thetwo gray mules to one wagon himself, with old Rufus driving the gray horseshitched to that queer tumble-down, old family coach, though he hadn'tspoken to father since he married mother twenty-eight years ago. 

"'Ready to move you all home, bag and baggage, William, ' he said, as hetook father into his huge old arms clad in the rusty broadcloth of his bestsuit, which I think is the garment he purchased for father's very worldly, town wedding with my mother, which he came from Riverfield to attend forpurposes of disinheriting the bridegroom and me, though I was several yearsin the future at that date. 'Elmnest is as much yours as mine, as I toldyou when you sprigged off to marry in town. Get your dimity together, Nancy! Your grandmother Craddock's haircloth trunk is strapped on behindher carriage there, and Rufus will drive you home. These mules are tooskittish for him to handle. Fine pair, eh, William?' And right there in theearly dawn, almost in front of the garage that contained his touringChauvinnais and my gray roadster, father stood in his velvet dressing-gownand admired the two moth-eaten old animals. Now, I honestly ask you, Matthew, could a woman of heart refuse at least to attempt to see those twogreat old boys through the rest of their lives in peace and comforttogether? Elmnest is roof and land and that is about all, for Uncle Craddnever would let father give him a cent on account of his feud with mother, even after she had been dead for years. Father would have gone home withhim that morning, but I made him stay to turn things over to JudgeRutherford. Aren't they great, those two old pioneers?"

"They are the best sports ever, Ann, and I say let's fix up Elmnest forthem to live in when they won't stay with us, and for a summer home for usto go and take--take the children for rural training. Now what do yousay--wedding to-morrow?" And the light in dear old Matthew's eyes was verylovely indeed as the music grew less blatant and the waiter turned down thelights near the little alcove that the wide walnut paneling made beside thesteps that go up to the balcony. I have always said that the ClovermeadCountry Club has the loveliest house anywhere in the South. 

"No, Matthew, I care too much about you to let you marry a woman in searchof a roof and food, " I answered him, with all of the affection I seemed topossess at that time in my eyes. "You deserve better than that from me. "

"Now, see here, Ann Craddock, did I or did I not ask you to marry me atyour fourteenth birthday party, which was just ten years ago, and did youor did you not tell me just to wait until you got grown? Have you or haveyou not reached the years of discretion and decision? I am ready to marry, I am!" And as he made this announcement of his matrimonially inclinedcondition of mind, Matthew took my hand in his and laid his cheek againstit. 

"My heart isn't grown up yet, Matt, " I said softly, with all the tendernessI, as I before remarked, at that time possessed. "Don't wait for me. MarryBelle Proctor or somebody and--and bring the--babies out to Elmnest for--"

The explosion that then followed landed me in Owen Murray's arms on thefloor of the ball-room, and landed Matthew in his big racing-car, which Icould hear go roaring down the road beyond the golf-links. 

There is a certain kind of woman whose brain develops with amazingnormality and strength, but whose heart remains very soft-fibered anduncertain, with tendencies to lapse into second childhood. I am that gardenvariety, and it took the exercising of many heart interests to toughen mycardiac organ. 

As I traveled out the long turnpike that wound itself through the HarpethValley to the very old and tradition-mossed town of Riverfield, in thehigh, huge-wheeled, swinging old coach of my Great-grandmother Craddock, sitting pensively alone while father occupied the front seat beside UncleCradd, both of them in deep converse about a line in Tom Moore, while UncleCradd bumbled the air of "Drink to me only with thine eyes" in a lovely oldbass, I should have been softly and pensively weeping at the thought of thedevastation of my father's fortune, of the poverty brought down upon hisold age, and about my fate as a gay social being going thus into exile; butI wasn't. Did I say that I was sitting alone in state upon the faded roseleather of those ancestral cushions? That was not the case, for upon theseat beside me rode the Golden Bird in a beautiful crate, which bore thelegend, "Cock, full brother to Ladye Rosecomb, the world's champion, three-hundred-and-fourteen-egg hen, insured at one thousand dollars. Express sixteen dollars. " And in another larger crate, strapped on top ofthe old haircloth trunk, which held several corduroy skirts, some coarselinen smocks made hurriedly by Madam Felicia after a pattern in "TheReview, " and several pairs of lovely, high-topped boots, as well as acouple of Hagensack sweaters, rode his family, to whom he had not yet evenspoken. The family consisted of ten perfectly beautiful white Leghornfeminine darlings whose crate was marked, "Thoroughbreds from Prairie DogFarm, Boulder, Colorado. " I had obtained the money to purchase these verymuch alive foundations for my fortune, also the smart farmer's costume, orrather my idea of the correct thing in rustics, by selling all the lovelylingerie I had brought from Paris with me just the week before the terriblewar had crashed down upon the world, and which I had not worn because I hadnot needed them, to Bess Rutherford and Belle Proctor at very high prices, because who could tell whether France would ever procure their like again?They were composed mostly of incrustations of embroidery and real Val, andanyway the Golden Bird only cost seven hundred dollars instead of thethousand, and the ladies Bird only ten dollars apiece, which to me did notseem exactly fair, as they were of just as good family as he. I was veryproud of myself for having been professional enough to follow thedirections of my new big red book on "The Industrious Fowl, " and to buyGolden Bird and his family from localities which were separated as far asis the East from the West. My company was responsible for mylight-heartedness at a time when I should have been weeping with vainregrets at leaving life--and perhaps love, for I couldn't help hearing inmy mind's ears that great dangerous racer bearing Matthew away from me atthe rate of eighty miles an hour. I was figuring on just how long it wouldtake the five to eight hundred children of the Bird family, which Iexpected to incarnate themselves out of egg-shells, to increase to a flockof two thousand, from which, I was assured by the statistics in that veryreliable book, I ought to make three thousand dollars a year, maybe five, with "good management. " Also I was not at all worried about the "goodmanagement" to be employed. I intended to begin to exert it the minute ofmy arrival in the township of Riverfield. I had even already begun to use"thoughtful care, " for I had brought a box of tea biscuits along, and Ifelt a positive thrill of affection for Mr. G. Bird as he gratefullygobbled a crushed one from my hand. Also it was dear of him the way heraised his proud head and chuckled to his brides in the crate behind himto come and get their share. It was pathetic the way he called and calledand they answered, until I finally stopped their mouths with ten otherdainties, so that he could consume his in peace. Even at that early stageof our friendship I liked the Golden Bird, and perhaps it was just a waveof prophetic psychology that made me feel so warmly towards the proud, white young animal who was to lead me to--

So instead of the despair due the occasion, I was happy as I jogged slowlyout over the twenty long miles that stretched out like a silvery ribbondropped down upon the meadows and fields that separate the proud city ofHayesville and the gray and green little old hamlet of Riverfield, whichnestles in a bend of the Cumberland River and sleeps time away under itshuge old oak and elm and hackberry trees, kept perpetually green by thegnarled old cedars that throw blue-berried green fronds around their winternakedness. As we rode slowly along, with a leisure I am sure all themotor-car world has forgotten exists, the two old boys on the front seathummed and chuckled happily while I breathed in great gulps of a large, meadow-sweet spring tang that seemed to fairly soak into the circulation ofmy heart. The February day was cool with yet a kind of tender warmth in itslittle gust of Southern wind that made me feel as does that brand of veryexpensive Rhine wine which Albert at the Salemite on Forty-second Street inNew York keeps for Gale Beacon specially, and which makes Gale so furiousfor you not to recognize, remember about, and comment upon at his reallywonderful dinners to bright and shining lights in art and literature. Returning from New York to the Riverfield Road through the Harpeth Valley, I also discovered upon the damsel Spring a hint of a soft young costume ofyoung green and purple and yellow that was as yet just a mist being drapedover her by the Southern wind. 

"I feel like the fairy princess being driven into a land of enchantment, Mr. Golden Bird, " I remarked as I leaned back upon the soft old cushionsand took in the first leisurely breath of the air of the open road that mylungs had ever inhaled: one simply gulps air when seated in a motor-car. "It is all so simple and easy and--"

Just at this moment happened the first real adventure of my quest, and atthat time it seemed a serious one, though now I would regard it as of verylittle moment. Suddenly there came the noise of snipping cords, the feelingof jar and upheaval, and before I could turn more than half-way around forpurposes of observation, the entire feminine Bird family in their temporarycrate abode slid down into the dust of the road with a great crash. I heldmy breath while, with a jolt and a bounce and a squeak of the heavy oldsprings, Uncle Cradd brought the ancestral family coach to a halt about tenfeet away from the wreck, which was a mêlée of broken timber, squeakingvoices, and flapping wings. As soon as I recovered from the shock I sprangfrom my cushions beside Mr. G. Bird, who was fairly yelling clucks ofcommand at this family-to-be, and ran to their assistance. Now, I am verylong and fleet of limb, but those white Leghorn ladies were too swift forme, and before I reached the wreck, they had all ten disentangledthemselves from the crushed timbers and had literally taken to the woods, through which the Riverfield ribbon was at that moment winding itself. Clucking and chuckling, they concealed themselves in an undergrowth ofcoral-strung buck bushes, little scrub cedars, and dried oak leaves, and Icould hear them holding a council of war that sounded as if they were todepart forever to parts unknown. In a twinkling of an eye I saw my futurefortune literally take wings, and in my extremity I cried aloud. 

"Oh, call them all back, Mr. Golden Bird, " I pleaded. 

"Now, Nancy, that is always what I said about hens. They are such peskywomanish things that it's beneath the dignity of a man to bother with 'em. I haven't had one on the place for twenty years. We'll just turn thisrooster loose with them and we can go on home in peace, " said Uncle Craddas he peered around the side of the coach while father's mild face appearedon the other side. As he spoke, he reached back and released my Golden Birdfrom his crate and sent him flying out into the woods in the direction ofhis family. 

"Oh, they are the only things in the world that stand between me andstarvation, " I wailed, though not loud enough for either father or UncleCradd to hear. "Please, please, Golden Bird, come back and bring the otherswith you, " I pleaded as I held out my hand to the proud white Sultan, whohad paused by the roadside on his way to his family and was now turningbright eyes in the direction of my outstretched hand. In all the troublesand trials through which that proud Mr. G. Bird and I went hand in hand, orrather wing in hand, in which I was at times hard and cold anddisappointed in him, I have never forgotten that he turned in his tracksand walked majestically back to my side and peered into the outstretchedhand with a trustful and inquiring peck. Some kind fortune had brought itto pass that I held the package of tea biscuits in my other hand, and in afew breathless seconds he was pecking at one and calling to the foolish, faithless lot of huddled hens in the bushes to come to him immediately. First he called invitingly while I held my breath, and then he commanded ashe scratched for lost crumbs in the white dust of the Riverfield ribbon, but the foolish creatures only huddled and squeaked, and at a few cautioussteps I took in their direction, they showed a decided threat of vanishingforever into the woods. 

"Oh, what will I do, Mr. G. Bird?" I asked in despair, with a real sob inmy throat as I looked toward the family coach, from which I could hear ahappy and animated discussion of Plato's Republic going on between the twoold gentlemen who had thirty years' arrears in argument and conversation tomake up. I could see that no help would come from that direction. "I can'tlose them forever, " I said again, and this time there was the real sobarising unmistakably in my voice. 

"Just stand still, and I'll call them to you, " came a soft, deep voice outof the forest behind me, and behold, a man stood at my side!

The man's name is Adam. 

"Now give me a cracker and watch 'em come, " he said, as he came close to myside and took a biscuit from my surprised and nerveless hand. "Ah, but youare one beauty, aren't you?" he further remarked, and I was not positivelysure whether he meant me or the Golden Bird until I saw that he had reacheddown and was stroking Mr. G. Bird with a delighted hand. "Chick, chick, chick!" he commanded, with a note that was not at all unlike the commandingone the Sultan had used a few minutes past, only more so, and in less thantwo seconds all those foolish hens were scrambling around our feet. Infact, the command in his voice had been so forcible that I myself had movedseveral feet nearer to him until I, too, was in the center of myscrambling, clucking Bird venture. 

I don't like beautiful men. I never did. I think that a woman ought to haveall the beauty there is, and I feel that a man who has any is in some waydishonest, but I never before saw anything like that person who had comeout of the woods to the rescue of my family fortune, and I simply stared athim as he stood with a fluff of seething white wings around his feet andtowered against the green gray of an old tree that hung over the side ofthe road. He was tall and broad, but lithe and lovely like some kind of awoods thing, and heavy hair of the same brilliant burnished red that I hadseen upon the back of a prize Rhode Island Red in the lovely water-colorplates in my chicken book, --which had tempted me to buy "red" until I hadread about the triumphs of the Leghorn "whites, "--waved close to his head, only ruffling just over his ears enough to hide the tips of them. His eyeswere set so far back under their dark, heavy, red eyebrows that they seemednight-blue with their long black fringe of lashes. His face was square andstrong and gentle, and the collar of his gray flannel shirt was open sothat I could see that his head was set on his wide shoulders with lineslike an old Greek masterpiece. Gray corduroy trousers were strapped aroundhis waist by a wide belt made of some kind of raw-looking leather that washeld together by two leather lacings, while on his feet were a kind ofsandal shoes that appeared to be made of the same leather. He must haveconstructed both belt and shoes himself, and he hadn't any hat at all uponhis crimson-gold thatch of hair. I looked at him so long that I had to lookaway, and then when I did I looked right back at him because I couldn'tbelieve that he was true. 

"Now I'm going to pick them up gently, two at a time, tie their feettogether with a piece of this string, and hand them to you to put insidethe carriage. I'll catch the cock first, the handsome old sport, " and asPan spoke, he began to suit his actions to his words with amazing tact andskill. I shall always be glad that the first chicken I ever held in my armswas put into them gently by that woods man, and that it was the Golden Birdhimself. "Put him in and shut the door, and he'll calm the ladies as youbring them to him, " he commanded as he bent down and lifted two of the Birdbrides and began to tie their feet together with a piece of cord he hadtaken from a deep pocket in the gray trousers. 

"Oh, thank you, " I said with a depth of gratitude in my voice that I didnot know I possessed. "You are the most wonderful man I ever saw--I meanthat I ever saw with chickens, " I said, ending the remark in an agony ofembarrassment. "I don't know much about them. I mean chickens, " I hastenedto add, and made matters worse. 

"Oh, they are easy, when you get to know 'em, chickens--or men, " he saidkindly, without a spark in his eyes back of their black bushes. "Are theyyours?"

"They are all the property I have got in the world, " I answered as Iclasped the last pair of biddies to my breast, for while we had beenholding our primitive conversation, I had been obeying his directions andloading the Birds into Grandmother Craddock's stately equipage. Anxietyshone from my eyes into his sympathetic ones. 

"Well, you'll be an heiress in no time with them to start you, with 'goodmanagement. ' I never saw a finer lot, " he said, as he walked to the door ofthe carriage with me, with the last pair of white Leghorn ladies in hisarms. 

"But maybe I haven't got that management, " I faltered, with my anxietygetting tearful in my words. 

"Oh, you'll learn, " he said, with such heavenly soothing in his voice thatI almost reached out my hands and clung to him as he settled the fussingpoultry in the bottom of the carriage in such a way as to leave room for myfeet among them. Mr. G. Bird was perched on the seat at my side and wascraning his neck down and soothingly scolding his family. "How are you, Mr. Craddock?" Pan asked of Uncle Cradd's back, and by his question interruptedan argument that sounded, from the Greek phrases flying, like a battle onthe walls of Troy. 

"Well, well, how are you, Adam?" exclaimed Uncle Cradd, as he turned aroundand greeted the woodsman with a smile of positive delight. 

I had known that man's name was Adam, but I don't know how I knew. 

"This is my brother, Mr. William Craddock, who's come home to me to liveand die where he belongs, and that young lady is Nancy. Those chickens arejust a whim of hers, and we have to humor her. Can we lift you as far asRiverfield?" Uncle Cradd made his introduction and delivered his invitationall in one breath. 

"I'm glad to meet you, sir, and I am grateful for your assistance incapturing my daughter's whims, " said father, as he came partly out of hisB. C. Daze. 

As he took my hand into his slender, but very powerful grasp, that man hadthe impertinence to laugh into my eyes at my parent's double-entendre, which he had intended as a simple single remark. 

"No, thank you, sir; I've got to get across Paradise Ridge before sundown. The lambs are dropping fast over at Plunkett's, and I want to make surethose Southdown ewes are all right, " he answered as he put my hand out ofhis, though I almost let it rebel and cling, and took for a second theGolden Bird's proud head into his palm. 

"I'll be over at Elmnest before your--your 'good judgment' needs mine, " hesaid to me as softly as I think a mother must speak to a child as sheunloosens clinging dependent fingers. As he spoke he shut the door of theold ark, and Uncle Cradd drove on, leaving him standing on the edge of thegreat woods looking after us. 

"Oh, I wish that man were going home with us, Mr. G. Bird, or we were goinghome with him, " I said with a kind of terror of the unknown creeping overme. As I spoke I reached out and cuddled the Golden darling into the hollowof my arm. Some day I am going to travel to the East shore of Baltimore tothe Rosecomb Poultry Farm to see the woman who raised the Golden Bird andcultivated such a beautiful confiding, and affectionate nature in him. Hesoothed me with a chuckle as he pecked playfully at my fingers and thencalled cheerfully down to the tethered white Ladies of Leghorn. 

CHAPTER II

As we ambled towards the sun, which was setting over old Harpeth, thetallest humpbacked hill on Paradise Ridge, the Greek battle raged on thefront seat and there was peace with anxiety in the back of the ancestralcoach. 

As the wheels and the two old gentlemen rumbled and the Bird's familyclucked and crooned, with only an occasional irritated squawk, I, for thefirst time since the landslide of our fortune, began to take real thoughtof the morrow. 

"Yes, landslide is a good name for what is happening to us, and I hopewe'll slide or land on the home base, whatever is the correct term in thenational game that Matthew has given up trying to teach me to enjoy, " Isaid to myself as I settled down to look into our situation. 

I found that it was not at all astonishing that father had lost all thefortune that my mother had left him and me when she died three years ago. It was astonishing that the old dreamer had kept it as long as he had, andit was only because most of it had been in land and he had from the firstlived serenely and comfortably on nice flat slices of town property cut offwhenever he needed it. He had been a dreamer when he came out of theUniversity of Virginia ten years after the war, and it had been the tragedyof Uncle Cradd's life that he had not settled down with him on the verybroad, but very poor, ancestral acres of Elmnest, to slice away with him atthat wealth instead of letting himself be captured in all his poetic beautyat a dance in Hayesville by a girl whose father had made her half a milliondollars in town land deals. Uncle Cradd's resentment had been bitter, andas he was the senior of his twin brother by several hours, he demanded thatfather sell him his half of Elmnest, and for it had paid his entire fortuneoutside of the bare acres. In poetic pride father had acceded to hisdemand, lent the money thrust upon him to the first speculator who got tohim, and the two brothers had settled themselves down twenty miles apart inthe depths of a feud, to eat their hearts out for each other. The rich mansought a path to the heart of the poor man, but was repulsed until the dayafter the spectacular failure of his phosphate company had penetrated intothe wilds of little Riverfield, and immediately Uncle Cradd had hitched upthe moth-eaten string in his old stables and come into town for us, and infather's sweet old heart there was never an idea of not, as he put it, "going home. " I had never seen Elmnest, but I knew something of thesituation, and that is where the Golden Bird arrived on the situation. Themorning after our decision to return to the land--a decision in which I hadborne no part but a sympathetic one after I had listened half the night tofather's raptures over Uncle Cradd as a Greek scholar with whom one wouldwish to spend one's last days--the February copy of "The Woman's Review"arrived, and on the first page was an article from a woman who earns fivethousand dollars a year with the industrious hen on a little farm of tenacres. There were lovely pictures of her with her feathered family, and Idecided that what a woman with the limited experience of a headstenographer in a railroad office could do, I, with my wider scope oftravel and culture, could more than double on three hundred acres of landin the Harpeth Valley. Some day I'm going to see that woman and I'm goingto stop by and speak sternly to the editor of "The Woman's Review" on myway. 

"Mr. G. Bird, " I began as I reached this point and I saw that we werearriving in the heart of civilization, which was the square of a quaintlittle old town. From a motor-car acquaintance, I knew this to beRiverfield, but I had never even stopped because of the family prideinvolved in the feud now dead. "Mr. Bird, " I repeated, "I am afraid I amup against it, and I hope you'll stand by me. " He answered me by preening abreast feather and winking one of his bright eyes as Uncle Cradd stoppedthe ancient steeds in the center of the square, before a little old brickbuilding that bore three signs over its tumble-down porch. They were:"Silas Beesley, Grocer, " "U. S. Post-Office, " and "Riverfield Bank and TrustCo. "

"Hey, Si, here's William come home!" called Uncle Cradd, as a negro boywith a broad grin stood at the heads of the slow old horses, who, I feltsure, wouldn't have moved except under necessity before the judgment day. In less time than I can take to tell it father descended literally into thearms of his friends. About half a dozen old farmers, some in overalls andsome in rusty black broadcloth the color of Uncle Cradd's, poured out ofthe wide door of the business building before described, and they actedvery much as I have seen the boys at Yale or Princeton act after a successor defeat on the foot-ball field. They hugged father and they slapped himon the back and they shook his hand as if it were not of human, sixty-year-old flesh and blood. Then they introduced a lot of stalwartyoung farmers to him, each of whom gave father hearty greetings, butrefrained from even a glance in my direction as I sat enthroned on high onthe faded old cushions and waited for an introduction, which at last UncleCradd remembered to give me. 

"This is Miss Nancy Craddock, gentlemen, named after my mother, and she'sgoing to beat out the Bend in her chicken raising, which she's broughtalong with her. Come over, youngsters, and look her over. The fire in theparlor don't burn more than a half cord of wood on a Sunday, and you cancome over Saturday afternoon and cut it against the Sabbath, with a welcometo any one of the spare rooms and a slab of Rufus's spare rib and a coupleof both breakfast and supper muffins. " All of the older men laughed at thissweeping invitation, and all the younger greeted it with ears that becameinstantly crimson. I verily believe they would one and all have fled andleft me sitting there yet if a diversion had not arrived in the person ofMrs. Silas, who came bustling out of the door of the grocery or post-officeor bank; whichever it is called, is according to your errand there. Mrs. Siwas tall, and almost as broad as the door itself, with the rosiest cheeksand the bluest eyes I had ever beheld, and they crinkled with lovelinessaround their corners. She had white water-waves that escaped their decorousplastering into waving little tendril curls, and her mouth was as curledand red-lipped and dimpled as a girl's. In a twinkling of those blue eyes Ifell out of the carriage into a pair of strong, soft, tender arms coveredwith stiff gray percale, and received two hearty kisses, one on each cheek. 

"God bless you, honeybunch, and I'm glad William has brought you home atlast, the rascal. " As she hugged me she reached out a strong hand and gavefather first a good shake by his shoulder and then by his hand. 

"Fine girl, eh, Mary?" answered father as he returned the shoulder shakewith a pat on the broad gray percale back, and retained the strong hand inhis, with a frank clinging. 

I wondered if--

"She's her Aunt Mary's blessed child, and I will have her making rizbiscuits like old Madam Craddock's black Sue for you two boys in less thana week, " she answered him, with a laugh that somehow sounded a bit dewy. 

"Oh, do you know about chickens, Mrs. --I mean, Aunt Mary?" I asked as Iclung to the hand to which father was not clinging. 

"Bless my heart, what's that I see setting up on old Madam Craddock'scushions? Is it a rooster or a dream bird?" she answered me by exclaimingas she caught sight of Mr. G. Bird sitting in lonely state, but as good asgold, upon the rose-leather cushions. "I thought I feathered out the finestchickens in the Harpeth Valley, but this one isn't human, you might say, "and as she spoke she shook off father and me, and approached the carriageand peered in with the reverence of a real poultry artist. "Bless myheart!" she again exclaimed. 

"Those are just Miss Nancy's whims to take the place of her card-routs andsinful dancing habits, " said Uncle Cradd, with a great and indulgentamusement as all the little crowd of native friends gathered around to lookat the Bird family. 

"Say, that rooster ought to have been met with a brass band like they didMr. Cummins' horse, Lightheels, after he won all those cups up in the racesat Cincinnati, " said the tallest of the young farmers, whose ears had begunto assume their normal color. 

"And a sight more right he has to such a honor, Bud Beesley, " replied AuntMary, with spirit, as she stroked the proud head of the Golden Bird. "Ittakes hens and women all their days to collect the money men spend onrace-horses sometimes, my son. "

"Well, Mary, I reckon you aren't alluding to this pair of spanking graysI've got; but in case you are getting personal to them, I think we hadbetter begin to go. Come, get in with the Whim family, Nancy, and let's betraveling. It's near on to a mile over a mighty rough road to the housefrom the gate here. Everybody come and see us. " As he spoke Uncle Craddassisted me with ceremony into the chariot beside the Golden hero of thehour, and started the ancient steeds into a tall old gate right oppositethe bank-store-post-office. As he drove away something like warm tearsmisted across my eyes as I looked back and saw all the goodwill andfriendliness in the eye of the farmer friends who watched our departure. 

"That, Ann, is the salt of the earth, and I don't see how I consumed lifeso long without it, " said father as he turned, and looked at me with asparkle in his mystic gray eyes that I had never seen there when we wereseated at table with the mighty or making our bow in broadcloth and finelinen in some of the palaces of the world. I didn't know what it was then, but I do now; it is a land-love that lies deep in the heart of every manwho is born out in meadows and fields. They never get over it and sometimestransmit it even to the second generation. I felt it stir and run in myblood as we rumbled and bumped up the long avenue of tall old elm-treesthat led through deep fields which were even then greening with blue-grassand from which arose a rich loamy fragrance, and finally arrived at themost wonderful old brick house that I had ever seen in all of my life; itseemed to even my much traveled eyes in some ways the most wonderful abodefor human beings I had ever beheld. It was not the traditionalwhite-pillared mansion. It was more wonderful. The bricks had aged a rich, red purple, and were rimmed and splotched with soft green and gray mossunder traceries of vines that were beginning to put out rich russet buds. The windows were filled with tiny diamond panes of glass, which glitteredin the gables from the last rays of the sun setting over Old Harpeth, andthe broad, gray shingled roof hovered down over the wide porch which wouldhave sheltered fifty people safely. A flagstone walk and stone steps led upfrom the drive, seemingly right into the wide front door, which had small, diamond-paned, heavily shuttered windows in it, and queer holes on eachside. 

"To shoot through in case of marauding Indians, " answered Uncle Cradd to mystartled question, which had sprung from a suspicion that must have beendictated by prenatal knowledge. As I entered the homestead of my fathers Ifelt that I had slipped back into the colonial age of America, and I foundmyself almost in a state of terror. The wide old hall, the heavy-beamedceiling of which was so low that you felt again hovered, was lighted byonly one candle, though a broad path of firelight lay across the darkpolished floor from the room on the left, where appeared old Rufusenveloped in a large apron no whiter than the snowy kinks on his old head. 

"Time you has worship, Mas' Cradd, my muffins and spare ribs will be done, "he said after he had bestowed a grand bow first upon father and then uponme, with a soft-voiced greeting of "sarvant, little Mis', and sarvant, Mas'William. "

"It is fitting that we render unto the Lord thankfulness for your returnhome with Nancy, your child, William, in the first moments of your arrival. Come!" commanded Uncle Cradd, and he led us into a huge room as lowceilinged and dark-toned as the hall. In it there was only the firelightand another dim candle placed on a small table beside a huge old book. Withthe surety of long habit father walked straight to a large chair that wasdrawn close to the hearth on the side opposite the table, behind which wasanother large chair of exactly the same pattern of high-backed dignity, andseated himself. Then he drew me down into a low chair beside him, and Ilifted up my hands, removed my hat, and was at last come home from a hugeand unreal world outside. 

As I sat and gazed from the dark room through a large old window, which wasswung open on heavy hinges to allow the sap-scented breeze to drift in andfan the fire of lingering winter, out into an old garden withbrick-outlined walks and climbing bare rose vines upon which was beginningto be poured the silver enchantment of a young moon, Uncle Cradd, in hisdeep old voice, which was like the notes given out by an ancient violin, began to read a chapter from his old Book which began with the exhortation, "Let brotherly love continue, " and laid down a course of moral conduct thatseemed so impossible that I sat spellbound to the last words, "Grace bewith you all. Ahmen. "

Then I knelt beside father, with old Rufus close behind our chairs, and wasfor the first time in my life lifted on the wings of prayer and carried offup somewhere I hadn't been before. As Uncle Cradd's sonorous words of loveand rejoicing over our return rolled forth in the twilight, I crouchedagainst father's shoulder, and I think the spirit of my GrandmotherCraddock, whom I had heard indulging in a Methodist form of vocal rejoicingwhich is called a shout, was about to manifest itself through me when I wasbrought to earth and to my feet by a long, protracted, and alarmed appealsent forth in the voice of the Golden Bird. 

"Keep us and protect us through the night with Your grace. Ahmen! Whydidn't you put those chickens out of the way of skunks and weasels, Rufus, you old scoundrel, " rolled out Uncle Cradd's deep voice, dropping withgreat harmony from the sublime to the domestic. 

Then, with Rufus at my heels, I literally flew through the back door of thehouse towards the sound of distress that had come from that direction. Infront of a rambling old barn, which was silvered by the crescent that hungover its ridge-pole, stood the chariot, and at its door, with Mr. G. Birdin his arms, I saw that man Adam. 

"He didn't recognize my first touch, " came across the moonbeams in a voiceas fluty as the original Pan's, and mingled with friendly chuckles andclucks from the entire Bird family as they felt the caress of long handsamong them. I was so ruffled myself that I felt in need of soothing; so Icame across the light and into the black shadow of the old coach. 

"Oh, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come!" I exclaimed. 

After my ardent exclamation of welcome to Pan I stood still for fear hewould vanish into the moonlight, because with his litheness and the eerielocks of hair that even in the silvering radiance showed a note of crimsoncresting over his ears, he looked exactly as if he had come out of thehollow in some oak-tree. 

"I thought you might feel that way about it, " he answered me, or rather Ithink that is what he said, because he was crooning to me and the LadiesBird at the same time, and with a mixture of epitaphs and endearments thatI didn't care to untangle. "There, there, lovely lady, don't be scared; itis going to be all right, " he soothed, as he lifted one of the fluffybiddies and tucked her under his arm. 

"Oh, I am so glad you think so, " I claimed the remark by exclaiming, whileshe made her claim by a contented little cluck. 

"Now don't be bothered, sweetheart, " he again said, as he picked up anotherof the Ladies Bird and turned towards the huge old tumble-down barn thatwas yawning a black midnight out into the gray moonlight. "Let's all gointo the barn and settle down to live happily together ever after. "

"I think that will be lovely, " I answered, while beautiful Mrs. Bird madeher reply with a consenting cluck. I never supposed I would make anaffirmative answer to a domestic proposal that was at least uncertain ofintent, but then I also never dreamed of being in the position of guardianto eleven head of prize live stock, and I think anything I did or saidunder the circumstances was excusable. 

"Don't you want to come with me and bring the cock with you. Old Rufuswouldn't touch one of them for a gold rock, " he asked, and I felt slightlyaggrieved when I discovered that I was to know when I was being addressedby a lack of any term of endearment, though the caressing flutiness ofAdam's voice was the same to me as to any one of the Ladies Leghorn. 

"Naw, Marster, chickens am my hoodoo. To tetch one makes my flesh crawllike they was walking on my grave, and if little Mis' will permit of me, Iwanter git back to see to the browning of my muffins ginst the time Mas'Cradd rars at me fer his supper, " and without waiting for the consent hehad asked, old Rufus shuffled hurriedly back into the house. 

"I'll bring Mr. Golden Bird. I adore the creeps his feathers give me, " Isaid as I reached in the coach and took the Sultan in my arms. He gave nota single note of remonstrance, but I suppose it was imagination that mademe think that he fluffed himself into my embrace with friendly joy. 

"Come on, let's put them for to-night over in the feed-room. There, ladies, did you ever see a greater old barn than this?" As he spoke to us he ledthe way with four of the admiring and obedient Ladies, in his arms, whilethe fifth, who was I, followed him into the deep, purple, hay-scenteddarkness. 

"I never did see anything like it, " I answered, while only one of theLeghorn ladies gave a sleepy cluck of assent to their part of the question. 

I really did have a thrill of pure joy in that old barn. It wasn't likeanything I had ever seen before, and was as far removed from a garage as isa brown-hearted chestnut burr from a soufflé of maroons served on a silverdish. I could hear the moth-eaten string of steeds munching noisily over atone end of the huge darkness, and the odor that arose from their repast wasof corn and not of suffocating gasoline. Tall weeds and long frames withteeth in them, which gave them the appearance of huge alligator mouthsyawning from the dusk to snap me, pressed close on each side. Straps andropes and harness were draped from the beams and along the walls, and thecombined aroma of corn and hay and leather and horses seemed an inspirationto a lusty breath. 

"There, sweeties, is a nice smooth bin for you to go to bed on, " said Adamas he set the Ladies Leghorn one by one from his arms on the edge of a longnarrow box that was piled high with corn. "Now you stay here with themuntil I bring the rest. Put your Golden Bird down beside the biddies, andI'll bring the others to put on the other side of him to roost, and in themorning he can begin scratching for a happy and united family. " With whichcommand Pan disappeared into the purple darkness and left me alone in thesnapping monster shadows with only the sleepy Golden Bird for company. TheBird shook himself after being deposited beside the half-portion of hisfamily, puffed himself up, sank his long neck into his shoulders, andevidently went to sleep. I shivered up close to him and looked over myshoulder into the blackness behind the teeth and then didn't look againuntil I heard the soft pad of the weird leather shoes behind me. 

"Now all's shipshape for the night, " said Pan as he spread out his armfulof feathers into a bunchy line on the edge of the bin. "Just throw themabout two double handfulls of mixed corn and wheat down in the hay litteron the floor at daybreak and keep them shut up and scratching until you aresure none of them are going to lay. From the red of their combs I judgethey will all be laying in a few days. "

"At daybreak?" I faltered. 

"Yes; they ought to be got to work as soon as they hop off the roost, "answered Pan, as he spread a little more of the hay on the floor in frontof the perch of the Bird family. 

"How do I know it--I mean daybreak?" I asked, with eagerness andhesitation both in my voice, as Pan started padding out through themonster-haunted darkness towards the square of silver light beyond the hugedoor. As I asked my question I followed close at his heels. 

"I'll be going through to Plunketts and I'll call you, like this. " As wecame from the shadows into the moonlight beside the coach, Adam paused andgave three low weird notes, which were so lovely that they seemed thesounds from which the melody of all the world was sprung. "I'll call twice, and then you answer if you are awake. If not, I'll call again. "

"I'll be awake, " I asserted positively. "Won't you--that is, must I fix--"

"That's all for to-night, and good night, " he answered me with a laugh thatwas as reedy as the brisk wind in the trees. In a second he was paddingaway from me into the trees beyond the garden as swiftly as I supposejaguars and lithe lions travel. 

"Oh, don't you want some supper?" I called into the moonlight, evenrunning a few steps after him. 

"Parched corn in my pocket--lambs, " came fluting back to me from theshadows. 

"Supper am sarved, little Mis', " Rufus announced from the hack door, as Istood still looking and listening into the night. 

"Uncle Cradd, " I asked eagerly at the end of the food prayer that the oldgentleman had offered after seating me with ceremony behind a steamingsilver coffee urn of colonial pattern, of which I had heard all my life, "who is that remarkable man?"

CHAPTER III

"Si Beesley? Spare rib, dear?" was his disappointing but hospitable, answerin two return questions to my anxious inquiries about the Pan who had comeout of the woods at my need. 

"No; I mean--mean, didn't you call him Adam?"

"Nobody knows. Now, William, a spare rib and a muffin is real nourishmentafter the nightingale's tongues and snails you've been living on fortwenty-odd years, isn't it?" As he spoke Uncle Cradd beamed on father, whowas eating with the first show of real pleasure in food since we had had tosend Henri back to New York, after the crash, weeping with all hisFrench-cook soul at leaving us after fifteen years' service. 

"I have always enjoyed that essay of Charles Lamb's on roast pig, Cradd, "answered father as he took a second muffin. "I know that Lamb used to boreyou, Cradd, but honestly now, doesn't his materialism seem--"

"Oh, Uncle Cradd, please tell me about that Adam man before you and fatherdisappear into the eighteenth century, " I pleaded, as I handed two cups ofsteaming coffee to Rufus to pass my two elderly savants. 

"There is nothing to tell, Nancy child, " answered Uncle Cradd, with anindulgent smile as he peered at me over his glasses. "Upon my word, William, Nancy is the living image of mother when we first remember her, isn't she? You are very beautiful, my dear. "

"I know it, " I answered hurriedly and hardly aware of what I was saying;"but I want to know where he came from, please, Uncle Cradd. "

"Well, as near as I can remember he came out of the woods a year ago andhas been in and out helping about the farms here in Harpeth Valley eversince. He never eats or sleeps anywhere, and he's a kind of wizard withanimals, they say. And, William, he does know his Horace. Just last week heappeared with a little leather-covered volume, and for four mortal hourswe--"

"They says dat red-haided peckerwoods goes to the devil on Fridays, andMas' Adam he cured my hawgs with nothing but a sack full of green cabbageheads in January, he did, " said Rufus, as he rolled his big black eyes andmysteriously shook his old head with its white kinks. "No physic a-tall, jest cabbage and a few turnips mixed in the mash. Yes, m'm, dey does go tothe devil of a Friday, red-haided peckerwoods, dey does. "

"By the way, Cradd, I want you to see a little volume of the Odes I pickedup in London last year. The dealer was a robber, and my dealer didn't wantme to buy, but I thought of that time you and I--"

"Not one of the Cantridge edition?"

"Yes, and I want you--"

During all the rest of supper I sat and communed with my own self whilefather and Uncle Cradd banqueted with the Immortals. 

Even after we went back into the low-ceilinged old living-room, which wasnow lighted by two candles placed close together on a wonderful oldmahogany table before the fire, one of the dignified chairs drawn up oneach side, with my low seat between, I was busily mapping out a course ofaction that was to begin with my dawn signal. 

"I'd like to get into the--trunk as soon as possible. There is something Iwant to look up in my chicken book, " I said before I seated myself in themidst of one of the battles that raged around Ilium. 

"Nancy, my dear, you will find that Rufus has arranged your GrandmotherCraddock's room for you, and Mary Beesley came over to see that all was inorder, " said Uncle Cradd, coming and taking my face into his long, lean oldhands. "God bless you, my dear, and keep you in His care here in the homeof your forefathers. Good-night!" After an absent-minded kiss from father Iwas dismissed with a Sanskrit blessing from somewhere in the valley of theEuphrates up into my bedroom in the valley of Old Harpeth. 

If I had discovered the shadow of tradition in the rest of the old house, Iwalked into the very depths of them as I entered the bedroom of myforemothers. Deep crimson coals of fire were in a squat fireplace, and alast smoldering log of some kind of fragrant wood broke into fragments andsent up a little gust of blue and gold flame as if in celebration of myarrival. There was the remnant of a candle burning on a small table besidea bed that was very near, if not quite, five feet high, beside which weresteps for the purposes of ascension. All the rest of the room was in a blurof lavender-scented darkness, and I only saw that both side walls foldeddown and were lit with the deep old gables, through the open windows ofwhich young moon rays were struggling to help light the situation for me. As I looked at that wide, puffy old bed, with a blur of soft colors in itsquilt and the valance around its posts and tester, I suddenly became asutterly weary as a child who sees its mother's arms outstretched atretiring time. I don't know how I got out of my clothes and into my laceand ribbons, with only the flickering candle and the dying log to see by, but in less time than I ever could have dreamed might be consumed in theprocesses of going to bed I climbed the little steps and dived into thesoft bosom of the old four-poster. 

"God bless me and keep me in His care here in my grandmother's bed, " Imurmured after the invocation of Uncle Cradd, and that is all I knew afterthe first delicious sink and soft huddling of my body between sheets thatfelt as if they must be rich silk and smelled of old lavender. 

And then came a dream--a most lovely dream. I was at the opera in GaleBeacon's box, and Mr. G. Bird was out on the stage singing that gloriouscoo in the aria in Saint-Saëns' "Samson and Delilah, " and I was trying toanswer him. Suddenly I was wide awake sitting up in a billowed softness, while moonlight of a different color was sifting in through the gablewindows and the most lovely calling notes were coming in on its beams. Without a moment's hesitation I answered in about six notes of that Delilahsong which was the only sound ready in my mind. Then I listened and I amnot sure that I heard a reedy laugh under my window as just the two notessucceeding the ones I had given forth came in on the dawn beams. Then allwas as still and quiet as the hush of midnight. 

In about two seconds I had vaulted forth from between the high posts, splashed into a funny old wooden tub bound together with brass rims, whirled my black mop into a knot, slipped into the modish boots, corduroys, and a linen smock, and was running out into the peculiar moon-dawn with theswiftness of a boy. 

But I was too late! The silver-moon sky was growing rosy over behind thebarn as I peered about, and a mist was rolling away from between the trees, but not a soul in all the world was awake, and I was alone. 

"Did he call me?" I asked of myself under my breath. And the answer I gotwas from the Golden Bird, who sent a long, triumphant, eager "salutation tothe dawn" from out the shadows of the barn. 

Eagerly I flew to him, and the minute I entered the apartment of the Birdfamily I discovered that I had been only half dreaming about my earlymorning opera. Pan had come and gone. Upon the door was pinned a piece oftorn brown wrapping-paper upon which I found these penciled words:

 Give them about two quarts of warm meal mash, into which you put some ground turnips at noon. Better build about four nests in the dark under the bin, and be sure to disinfect them by white-washing inside and out. Put in clean hay. Dust all the beauties on their heads and under their wings with wood ashes in which you put a little of the powder you'll find in a piece of this paper in the right-hand corner of the bin. They'll want a good feed of ground grain at three o'clock. Get copperas from Rufus to put in their water, and I'll let you know later what else to do. Salutations!

 ADAM

"I'm glad I got up so early if that's the day's program, " I gasped tomyself as I leaned against the bin from which the Golden Bird had alreadyalighted and was commanding the Ladies Leghorn to descend--a command whichthey were obeying one at a time with outspread white wings that werehandled with the height of awkwardness. "But I'll do it all if it killsme, " I added, with my head up, as I began to scatter some of the big whitegrains that I knew to be corn and which, by lifting lids and peering intohuge slanting top boxes set against the wall, I discovered along with a lotof other small brown seed stuff that I knew must be wheat. I was glad thatI had remembered that Adam had called the room the feed-room so I hadknown where to look. 

It was so perfectly exciting to see all those fluffy white members of myfamily fortune scratching and clucking about my feet that I prolonged theprocess of the feeding by scattering only a few grains at a time untilgreat shafts of golden morning sun were thrusting themselves in through thedim dusk and cobweb-veiled windows. 

"Morning, little Mis'! I axes yo' parding fer not having breakfast 'foresun-up fer you, but they didn't never any Craddock ladies want theirnbefore nine o'clock before, they didn't, " came Rufus's voice in solemnwords of apology uttered in tones of serious reproof. As he spoke he stoodas far from the door of the feed-room as possible and eyed the scratchingBird family with the deepest disapproval. "Feed-room ain't no place ferchickens; they oughter make they living on bugs and worms and sich. "

"These chickens are--are different, Rufus, and--and so am I, " I answeredhim with dignity. "Call me when the gentlemen are ready to breakfast withme. "

"They talked until most daylight, and I knows 'em well enough to not cookfer 'em until after ten o'clock. They's gentlemen, they is. " The tones ofhis voice were perfectly servile, though it was plain to see that hismental processes were not. 

"All right, I'll eat mine now, Rufus, and then I want you to get me a--ahammer and some nails. Also a bucket of whitewash, " I said as I closed thedoor upon the Birds and preceded him to the house. 

"Oh, my Lawd-a-mussy!" he exclaimed as he dived into the refuge of thekitchen, completely routed, to appear with my breakfast upon his tray andwith such dignity in his mien that it was pathetic. I was merciful while Iconsumed the meal which was an exact repetition of the supper of the ribsof the hog and muffins and coffee; then I threw another fit into him, toquote from Matthew at his worst in the way of diction. 

"Please set a bucket of the wood ashes from the living-room fire out atthe barn for me, Rufus, " I commanded him with pleasant firmness. 

"Yes, Madam, " was the answer I got in a tone of cold despair. It was thusthat the feud with my family traditions was established. 

"Also, Rufus, please bring the saw with the hammer and the nails, " was mylast hand-grenade as I departed out the back door to the barn. From the oldclock standing against the wall in the back hall I discovered the hour tobe exactly seven-thirty, and I felt that I had what would seem like a weekahead of me before the setting of the sun. However, I was wrong in myjudgment, for time fairly fled from me, and it was nine o'clock by myplatinum wrist-watch before I had more than got one very wobbly-looking boxnailed together on the floor of the barn, and I was deep in both pride andexhaustion. 

"I knew I could do it, but I didn't believe it, " I was remarking to myselfin great congratulations when a shadow fell across the light from the door. I looked up and, behold, Mrs. Silas Beesley loomed up against the sun andseemed to shine with equal refulgence to my delighted eyes! In her hand sheheld a plate covered with a snowy napkin, and her blue eyes danced withdelighted astonishment. 

"Well, well, Nancy!" she exclaimed, as she seated herself upon a bench bythe door and began to fan herself with a corner of a snowy kerchief thatcrossed her ample bosom. "Looks like you have begun sawing and nailing atthe Craddock family estate pretty early in the action though it's none toosoon, and mighty glad I am to see you do it while there is still a littleodd lumber left. I've always said that it's women folks that prop a familyand it will soon tumble without 'em. I am so glad you've come, honeybunch, that tears are laughing themselves out of the corner of my eyes. " Thistime the white kerchief was dabbed over the keen blue eyes. 

"Is it all--very--very bad, Mrs. --I mean, Aunt Mary?" I asked, as I laiddown my dull-toothed instrument for the dissection of the plank, and sankcross-legged on the barn floor in front of her. 

"Oh, it might be worse, " she answered as she smiled again with resolution. "Rufus has eleven nice hogs and feed enough for them until summer, thanksto the help of Adam in tending the ten-acre river-bottom field, which theymade produce more than any one else in the river bend got off of fifty. Nobody can take the house, because it is hitched on to you with entailment, and though the croppers have skimmed off all the cream of the land, theclay bottom of it is obliged to be yours. Now that you and William havecome with a little money the fields can all be restored. Adam will help youlike he did Hiram Wade down the road there. It only cost him about tendollars to the acre. 

"But--but father and I--that is, Aunt Mary, you know father has lost allhis property and Uncle Cradd assured us that--that there was plenty for usall at Elmnest, " I said in a faltering tone of voice as a feeling ofdescending tragedy struck into my heart. 

"Cradd and Rufus have lived on hog, head, heels, and tail for over a year, with nothing else but the corn meal that Rufus trades meat with Silas for. I thought, honeybunch, when I saw you coming so stylish and beautiful withthose none-such chickens that you must have been bringing a silk pursesewed with gold thread with you. I said to Silas as he put out the lamplast night, 'The good Lord may let His deliverance horses lag along thetrack, but He always drives them in on the home stretch for His own, ofwhich Moseby Craddock is one. ' 'Why, she's so fine she can't eat eggs outenchickens that costs less than maybe a hundred dollars the dozen, ' answeredSilas to me as he put out the cat. "

"They cost eight hundred and fifty dollars and they are all I have got inthe world. Father gave up everything, and I sold my clothes and the cars tobuy back his library and--and the chickens, " I said with the terrorpressing still more heavily down upon me. 

"Well, I shouldn't call them chickens spilled milk. Just listen at 'em!"And just as we had arrived at the point of desperation in our conversationa diversion occurred in the way of two loud cacklings from the feed-roomand the most ringing and triumphant crow that I am sure ever issued fromthe throat of a thoroughbred cock. "'Tain't possible for 'em to have laidthis quick after traveling, " said Aunt Mary, but she was almost as fleet asI was in her progress to the feed-room door. And behold!

"Well, what do you think about that, right out of the crate just lastnight, no nests nor nothing!" she exclaimed as we both paused and gazed attwo huge white eggs in hastily scratched nests beside the bin over whichtwo of the very most lovely white Leghorn ladies were proudly standing andclucking, while between them Mr. G. Bird was crowing with such evidentpride that I was afraid he would split his crimson throat. All the otherwhite Birds were clucking excitedly as if issuing hen promissory notes upontheir futures. 

"They're omens of good luck, bless the Lord, Honeybunch. Pick 'em rightup!" exclaimed Mrs. Silas. 

"Oh, they are warm!" I cried as I picked the two treasures up with reverenthands and cuddled them against the linen of the smock over my breast inwhich my heart was beating high with excitement. And as I held them thereall threat of life vanished never to return, no matter through whatvicissitudes the Golden Bird family and I were to pass. 

"You can eat these, and next week you can begin to save for a setting assoon as you can get a hen ready. I'll lend you the first one of mine thatbroods, " said Mrs. Silas as she took both the beautiful treasures into oneof her large hands with what I thought was criminal carelessness, butdidn't like to say so. 

"I've ordered a three-hundred-egg incubator for them, " I said proudly, as Igently took the warm treasures back into my hand. "Incubators are so muchmore sanitary and intelligent than hens, " I added with all the surety ofthe advertisement for the mechanical hen which I had answered withthirty-five dollars obtained from the sale of the last fluffy petticoat Ihad hoped to retain, but which I gave up gladly after reading theadvertisement. Two most lovely chemises had gone for the two brooders thatwere to accompany the incubator, and it seemed hard to think that I wouldhave to wait ten days to receive the fruits of my feminine sacrifice fromthe slow shipping service of the railroad. 

"Don't ever say that again, Nancy! Hens have more genuine wisdom growingat the roots of their pin feathers than most women display during the spanof their entire lives, and they make very much better mothers, " reprovedAunt Mary, with sweet firmness. "Just you wait and see which brings outyour prize birds, the wooden box or the hen. When men invent something witha mother's heart, they had better name it angel and admit that the kingdomhas come. Bless my soul; these biscuits I brought over for you-all'sbreakfast are stone-cold!"

"I've had my breakfast a half a day ago, " I answered. "You go in and startfather and Uncle Cradd off with the biscuits while I finish the nestand--and do some more things for my family fortune. "

"Child, if you attempt to do the things that Adam wants you to do for andwith live stock you may see miracles being hatched out and born, but you'llbe too worn out to notice 'em. Trap nests indeed! I've got to have sometime to make my water waves and offer daily prayer!" And with thisejaculation of good-natured indignation, evidently at the memory of sundryand various poultry prods, Mrs. Silas betook herself to the house with abeautiful and serene dignity. As she went she stopped to break a sprig froma huge old lilac that was beginning to burst its brown buds and to put uphalf a yard of rambler that trailed across the path with its treacherousthorns. 

"Your lilacs are breaking scent already, " she called back to me over hershoulder. 

A woman can experience no greater sensation of joy than that which shefeels when she first realizes that she is the mistress of a lilac bush. Neither her début dance nor her first proposal of sentiment equals it. Itis the same way about the first egg she gathers with her own hands; thesensation is indescribable. 

"I'll do all the things he says do for you and the family, Mr. G. Bird, ifit kills me, as it probably will, " I said with resolution as I drove alast wobbly nail into the first nest, and took up the saw to again attackthe odds and ends of old plank I had collected on the barn floor. "If I canmake one nest in two hours, I can make two more in four more, and then Iwill have time for the rest of the things, " I assured myself as I againlooked at my wrist-watch, and began to saw with my knee holding the toughold plank in place across a rickety box. 

CHAPTER IV

It is beautiful how sometimes deserving courage is rewarded if it just goeson deserving long enough. After about an hour's hand-to-saw bout with theold plank I was just chewing through the last inch of the last of the foursides of nest number two when I suddenly stopped and listened. Far away tothe front of the house I heard hot oaths being uttered by the engine in ahuge racing-machine with a powerful chug with which I was quite familiar. While I listened, the motor in agony gave a snort as it bounded over somekind of obstruction and in two seconds, as I stood saw in hand, with notenough time to wipe the sweat of toil from my brow, the huge blue machineswept around the corner of the house, brought up beside the family coach, which was still standing in front of the barn, and Matthew flung himselfout of it and to my side. 

"Holy smokers, Ann, but you look good in that get-up!" he exclaimed as heregarded me with the delight with which a person might greet a friend orrelative whom he had long considered dead or lost. "Why, you look just asif you had stepped right out of the 'Elite Review. ' And the saw, too, makesa good note of human interest. "

"Well, it's chicken interest and not human, Matthew Berry, " I said, answering his levity with spirit. "And I'm sorry I can't be at home foryour amusement to-day, but my chickens are laying while I wait, and theleast I can do is to get these nests ready for 'em. You'll excuse me, won'tyou, and go in to talk with father and Uncle Cradd?"

"They're not producing dividends already, are they, Ann? Why, you onlystarted the Consolidated Egg Co. Yesterday!" exclaimed Matthew, withinsulting doubt of my veracity in his voice. 

"Look there!" I said, as I pointed to my two large pearls, which I hadcarefully put in the soft felt hat I had purchased to go with the smocksfor fifteen dollars at Goertz's. 

"Well, what do you know about that?" exclaimed Matthew, with realastonishment, as he sat down on his heels and took the two treasures intohis highly manicured hands. "Gee, they are right hot off the bat!" heexclaimed, as he detected some of the warmth still left in them, I suppose. 

"Yes, and I've got to get these nests done right away so as to be ready tocatch the rest of them, " I said and began to saw furiously, as if I wereconstructing a bucket to catch a deluge. 

"Say, gimme the saw, Ann, and you get the fodder and things to put in thebottom of them to keep them from smashing as they come, " said Matthew, ashe flung off his coat, jammed his motor-cap on the back of his head, andtook the saw from my unresisting hand. 

"I'll get the whitewash and whiten them as you finish them, " I said, as Ihurriedly consulted the torn piece of wrapping-paper I took from one ofthe huge pockets of my smock. 

"All right, but you had better hump yourself, for I believe I'm going to besome carpenter. This saw has a kind of affinity feeling to my hand, " saidMatthew, as he put his foot on one end of the plank and began to make thesaw fly through the wood like a silver knife through fluffy cake. If sawswere the only witnesses, the superiority of men over women would beestablished in very short order. "And say, Ann, I wish you would bethinking what you are going to charge for a half interest in this business. Law and real estate look slow to me after these returns right before myeyes, " he added, as he stopped to move the pearl treasures farther out ofthe way of a possible flying plank. 

"I'm going to give you one of them to take home with you, Matt, " Ianswered, with a most generous return of his appreciation of thesefoundation pebbles of my family fortune. Then I went to appeal to Rufus forthe whitewash. 

"They's a half barrel uf lime and a bucket and bresh in the corner uf thebarn what Mas' Adams made me git, he did; but it's fer the hawgs and can'tbe wasted on no chickens, " he said, answering my very courteous requestwith a great lack of graciousness. 

"The chickens will pay it back to the hogs, Rufus, " I answered airily as Iran back to the barn, eager for the fray. 

And a gorgeous fray it was, with Matthew whistling and directing andpounding and having the time of his very frivolous life. 

Now, of course, nobody in these advanced times thinks that it is notabsolutely possible, even easy, for a woman to live any kind ofconstructive life she chooses entirely without assistance from a man, butshe'll get to the place she has started for just about a year after shewould have arrived if a man had happened along to do the sawing. The way myfriend Matthew Berry cut and hammered off one by one the directions on thatpiece of paper in my smock pocket would have proved the proposition abovestated to any doubtful woman. And while Matthew and I had had many happytimes together at balls and parties and dinners and long flights in ourcars and at the theatre and opera, also in dim corners in gorgeous clothes, I am sure we had never been so happy as we were that morning while welabored together in the interest of Mr. G. Bird and family. We went beyondthe paper directions and delved in my book and hammered away until, whenRufus, with stately coldness, announced some time after noon that dinnerwas served, we both declared that it was impossible, though Matthew was atthat moment performing the last chore commanded by dusting the medicatedashes under the last wing of the last Lady Leghorn, held tenderly in myarms. The mash had been concocted and heated in the cleansed whitewashbucket over a fire improvised by Matthew between two stones beside thebarn, because I did not dare disturb Rufus again, and the model nests wereall in place and ready for the downpour of pearls that we expected at anytime, and there was nothing left to do that we could think of or read aboutin the book. 

"Let's go in and get a bite with Father Craddock and the twin, and thenwe'll read things to do this afternoon in the book where you got thosedirections, " said Matthew as he started towards the house in the wake ofRufus' retiring apron. 

I hadn't broken Pan to Matthew, and I didn't know exactly why. Perhaps Ididn't quite believe in the red-headed Peckerwood myself just then, andfelt unable to incarnate him to Matthew. 

Uncle Cradd's welcome to Matthew was very stately and friendly when we wentin and found him and father in their high-back chairs on each side of thetable, waging the classic argument that Rufus had reported them to havediscontinued at an early hour of the morning. Father was delighted with thepackage of books that Matthew had brought out with him in his car, becausefather considered them too valuable to be transported in the wagon whichwas to bring the rest of the library. 

"Just a little of the cream of the collection, Cradd, " he said as heunwrapped a small leather-covered volume which Matthew had transported inthe pocket over his heart. 

"Just five hundred dollars' worth of cream, " whispered Matthew to me, witha whimsical look at the small and very ancient specimen of Americana. "Itis a good thing that Senator Proctor has only Belle and let her have thesix thousand cash for the Chauvenaise, and Bess wanted your little Royal ina hurry, though she got a bargain at that. Still the library is reallyworth five times what you paid. "

"Sh--hush!" I said as I led the way before the parental twins into the olddining-room. Father hadn't even questioned how he was to have the librarysaved for him, and of course Uncle Cradd knew nothing at all about thematter. 

After seating me with the same ceremony he had employed since my arrivalinto the family, though with hostility bristling psychologically for myplebeian intrusion into his traditions of the Craddock ladies, Rufusappalled me by offering me for the third time since my arrival at Elmnestroasted ribs of the hog, muffins and coffee. Only my training in the socialcustoms of a world beyond the ken of Rufus kept me from exclaiming withprotest, but I came to myself to discover that Matthew was devouring hugeslabs of the roasted bones and half a dozen batches of the corn bread in amanner that was ravenously unconventional. I remembered that the last timeI had seen him at repast, just about forty-eight hours past, he had speareda croquette of chicken with disdain, and I decided not to apologize for themeal even in the most subtle way. Also the spectacle of father polishingoff the small bones, when I remembered the efforts of devoted Henri totempt his appetite with sophisticated food, filled me with a queerprimitive feeling that made it possible for me to fall upon my series ofthe ribs with an ardor which I had thought I was incapable of. 

"I call that some food, " sighed Matthew, as he regarded the pile of bonesin his plate with the greatest satisfaction in his appeased eyes. I feltRufus melt behind me as he passed the muffins again. 

"The native food of the Harpeth Valley nourishes specially fine men--andvery beautiful women, " answered Uncle Cradd, with a glance of pride, firstat me and then at father in his spare, but muscular, uprightness andfinally at Matthew, with his one hundred and eighty pounds of brawn packedon his six-foot skeleton in the most beautiful lines and curves of strengthand distinction. 

"Oh, that reminds me, Mr. Craddock, and you, too, Father of Ann, " saidMatthew, as he reached into his pocket and hurriedly drew out a hugeletter. "I have a proposition that came to the firm this morning to talkover with you two gentlemen. Ann thought I came out to help her settle theBird family comfortably, and for a while I forgot and thought so too, butnow I'll have to ask you two gentlemen to talk business, though I mustconfess the matter puzzles me not a little. "

"The art of dining and the craft of business should never be commingled;let us repair to the library, " said Uncle Cradd, thus placing the spareribs in an artistic atmosphere and at the same time aiming an arrow ofcriticism, though unconscious, at the custom of the world out over ParadiseRidge of feeding business conditions down the throat of an adversary withhis food and drink, specially drink. 

"I don't know why, but I'm scared to death now that I'm up against it, "Matthew confided to me as he first took a legal-looking piece of paper fromhis pocket and then hastily put it back as he and I followed the parentaltwins down the hall and into the library. 

"Will you rescue me, Ann?" he whispered as he ceremoniously seated me inmy low chair and took a straight one beside father as Uncle Cradd stoodtall, huge and towering on the old home-woven rug before the small fire inthe huge rock chimney. 

"Yes, " I answered as I settled back in the little chair and took onepassionately delighted look around the old room, which I was seeing in thebroad light of day for the first time. I am glad that the old home whichhad been the stronghold of my foremothers and fathers was thus revealed tome in half lights and a little at a time; I couldn't have stood the ecstasyof it all at once. The room was the low-beamed old wonder that I had feltit to be in the candle-light the night before, only now the soft richnessof the paneling, which held back into the gloom the faded colors of thebooks that lined the walls, the mellowed glow of the rough stone of thechimney, and the faded hand-woven rugs on the floor made it all look likeone of Rembrandt's or Franz Hals' canvases. But in a few seconds I cameback from the joy of it to a consciousness of what Matthew Berry wassaying. 

"You see, " he was explaining with enthusiasm, "that this new form of officefor the state commissioner of agriculture is really a part of the greatprogram of preparedness that has been evolving here in America since theGreat War began, and nobody knows just what to expect of it as yet. Therequest from the President for the appointment of Evan Baldwin to take theportfolio in the State of Harpeth has made everybody see that the Presidentmeans business with the States, and that America is to be made to produceher own food and the food of the rest of the world that needs it. When ascientist like Baldwin, worth millions and with experiment stations ofhundreds of acres in most states in the Union, which are coining moremillions with their propagation output, steps out and stands shoulder toshoulder with Edison in working to get the United States prepared to feedthe world as well as to fend off any of that world that menaces it, therest of us have got to get up and hustle, some with a musket and some witha plow. "

"And some with an egg-basket, " I added, as my cheeks began to glow withsomething I hadn't ever felt before, but which I classified as patriotism. 

"My country has only to call us and we'll answer to the whole of ourkingdom, William and I. We were lads too young to carry muskets against herin the Civil war, but we, with Rufus, plowed these acres with children'sstrength, and the larger portion of our products went to feed hungrysoldiers both blue and gray. I say, just let my country call William andme!" As Uncle Cradd spoke, his back straightened, and I saw that he musthave been every inch of six feet three in his youth. "William?"

"With you, Cradd, " answered father quietly, and I felt that that formulawas the one by which they had lived their joint youth. 

"Well, that is about what they are asking of you, Mr. Craddock, " saidMatthew, his cheeks red with the glow of the blood Uncle Cradd had calledup in his enthusiastic heart. "The new State secretary of agriculture hasasked our firm to undertake negotiations for the purchase of Elmnest, for arecruiting station for the experts who are to take over the organizing ofthe farming interests in the Harpeth Valley, which is the central sectionof the State of Harpeth. They offer three hundred dollars an acre for thewhole tract of two hundred acres, despite the fact that some of it is wornalmost to its subsoil. They consider that as valuable, because they wish togive demonstrations and try experiments in land restoration, though verylittle of that is needed here in the valley. It's a pretty big thing, Mr. Craddock and Father William, sixty thousand dollars will provide all the--"

"Did I understand that this proposition is put to us in the form of ademand of our Government upon our patriotism?" asked Uncle Cradd in abooming voice, while father only looked uncertain and ready to say, "Withyou, Cradd. " I sat speechless for a moment, with a queer pain in my heartthat I did not for the first second understand. 

"Well, not exactly that, Mr. Craddock, but something like it in a--"Matthew was beginning to say in a judicial way. 

"That is enough, Matthew Berry, son of the friend of my youth. If theUnited States needs Elmnest for national defenses, I am willing to give itup--indeed insist on presenting it to the Government except for a smallpart of the sum mentioned, which is needed for the simple and declininglives of my brother William, Rufus, and me, and my niece Nancy. Will you soconvey our answer, William?"

"With you, Cradd, " came the devoted formula with which father slipped backfinally into the dependence of his youth. 

"Good, Mr. Craddock, " exclaimed Matthew, and I could see visions of AnnCraddock reclaimed from her farmer's smock in a ball-gown upon the floorof the country club in the fleeting glance of triumph he gave me. "Ofcourse, about the price--"

Then in that counsel of the mighty arose Ann Craddock, farm woman in thestronghold of her worn-out acres. 

"Is it or is it not true, Uncle Cradd, that no deed to this property can bemade without my consent?" I asked calmly. 

"Why, yes, Nancy, " answered Uncle Cradd, indulgently. "But this is a matterfor your father and me to decide for you. I am sure you cannot fail inpatriotism, my child. "

"I don't, " I answered. "I am going to be more patriotic than any woman everwas before. I am not going to sell my Grandmother's rosebushes in theirgardens or the acres that have nourished my family since its infancy inAmerica long before this Evan Baldwin ever had any family, I feel sure, forsixty thousand dollars to go back and sit down in a corner with. I am goingto demonstrate to the United States what one woman can do in the way ofnutriment production aided by one beautiful rooster and ten equallybeautiful hens, and when they begin to take stock of the resources of thisGovernment, we women of the Harpeth Valley will be there with ouregg-baskets. Just take that answer to your Mr. Evan Baldwin, Matthew Berry, and I'll never forgive you for this insult. "

"Nancy!" ejaculated Uncle Cradd with stern amazement. 

"Can't do a thing with her when she looks like that, Cradd, " said father, as he comfortably lighted a cigar and drew the small leather-covered booktowards him with hungry fingers. 

"Now, Ann, " began Matthew, in the soothing tone of voice he had seen failon me many times, "you don't understand entirely, and your situation ispretty desperate in--"

"I do, I do understand that when I refuse this offer I am assuming enormousobligations, Matthew Berry, " I answered, with my head in the air andabsolute courage in my heart. 

"I ask you to bear witness, Matthew, to what my answer to the demand of mycountry would have been if I alone could have answered, but Nancy is withinher rights, and I protect the rights of a woman before those of any man, "said Uncle Cradd, and there was not a trace of relief in his fine old facethat he was to be saved from a parting with the land that had been the loveof his life, but one of affectionate regard and admiration for me. "Alsosay to the secretary of agriculture that a Craddock woman is as good as herword, and that the Harpeth Valley can be depended upon to lead the UnitedStates in the production of eggs in--when shall I promise, Nancy?"

"About--about a year, " I answered, searching in my mind for some data fromthe huge red book as to when wealth from the hen could be expected to rollin in response to the "good management" I felt even then capable ofdisplaying. Even now I can't blame myself for over-confidence when I thinkof the two white pearls in my hat on the table beside father's book. 

"Better make it two, " advised Matthew cautiously, but with a gleam ofenthusiasm as he also glanced at the eggs. That gleam was what earned myforgiveness for his daring to come upon me with such a mission. 

"Say eighteen months. That will be the end of the second season, " Ianswered with decision. "And it is about time for me to give the lastfeeding of my hostages to the United States and Mr. Evan Baldwin. You'llexcuse me, Matthew?" I asked politely, but cruelly, for I knew he intendedto follow me immediately. 

"Now here is your line of dispute, Cradd, just as I said, " exclaimedfather, who had opened his leather treasure and been hunting through itspages even before my heroics had completely exploded. And before Matthewand I had left the room, they were off on a bat with some favorite Ancient. 

CHAPTER V

"Of course, Ann, you _do_ realize just what you are doing?" asked Matthewof me, as we walked on the moss-green flagstones back to the barn, and hisvoice was so sweet and gentle with solicitude that I felt I must answer himseriously and take him into my confidence. Affection is a note that onemust always make payment on. 

"Yes, Matt, I do realize that those two are in a way children, for whosemaintenance I have made myself responsible, and my mind is scared to death, but my heart is beating so high with courage that I can hardly stand it. "

"Oh, come with me, Ann, and let me--" Matthew wooed. 

"Matt, " I answered gravely, "I haven't been here twenty-four hours yet, butwhen the thought of having it all taken away came to me, something in merose and made me rage, rage, as I did in the house. I don't know what itis, but there is something in this low old farm-house, this tumble-down oldbarn, that leafless old garden with its crumbling brick walks, and theseneglected, worn-out old acres, which seems to--to feed me and which I knowI would perish without. Oh, please understand and--and help me a littlelike you did this morning, " I ended with a broken plea, as I stretched outmy hand to him just as I entered the door of my barn--castle of dreams forthe future. 

"Dear Lord, the pluck of women!" Matthew exclaimed reverently, down in histhroat. "I'll be here, Ann, whenever you want me, and if you say thatchickens must fill my future life, then chickens it shall be, " he added, rising to the surface of the question again. 

"Oh, Matt, you are a darling, and I--" I was exclaiming when a soft voicefrom out of the shadows of the barn interrupted me and an apple-blossom inthe shape of a girl drifted into the late afternoon sunlight from thedirection of the feed-room. 

"I'm Polly Beesley, and mother sent these eggs to scramble with the onesyou got this morning for supper, " she said in a low voice that waspositively fragrant with sweetness. Two huge plaits of corn-silk hair fellover her shoulders, and her eyes were as shy and blue as violets werebefore they became a large commercial product. Her gingham dress was cutwith decorum just below her shoe-tops and, taking into consideration theprevailing mode, its length, fullness, and ruffles made the slim youngthing look like a picture from the same review from which I had cut mysmocks. However, I am sure that if she had been at the between six andeighteen age year before last, when about two and a half yards of ginghamwould have been modish for her costume, she would still have been attiredin the voluminous ruffles. 

"Holy smokes, " I thought I heard Matthew gurgle, and I felt him start atthe apparition, though the young thing never so much as glanced in hisdirection as she tendered me a quaint little basket in which lay half adozen eggs, real homely brown eggs and not pearl treasures. 

"Oh, thank you, Polly dear, " I answered with enthusiasm, and in obedienceto some urge resulting from the generations ahead of Polly and myincarnation in the atmosphere of Riverfield, my lips met the rosy ones thatwere held up to me. I felt sorry for Matthew, and I couldn't restrain aglance of mischief at him that crossed his that were fixed on the yellowbraids. 

"I didn't believe it of this day and generation, " I heard him mutter as Ipresented him to Polly, who answered that she was "pleased to make hisacquaintance, " in a voice in which terror belied the sentiment expressed. 

In her eyes traces of that same terror remained until suddenly the GoldenBird stepped proudly out of the bushes with the Ladies Bird, clucking andscratching along behind him. He had led the family out into the pastureand was now wisely returning them to the barn before the setting of thesun. I thought I had never seen him look so handsome, and no wonder hisconquest was immediate. 

"Oh, how beautiful, " exclaimed Polly, while all restraint left her youngface and body as she fell on her knees before the Sultan. "Chick, chick, chick, " she wooed, in the words that Pan had used to command, and with adelight equal to hers in the introduction, the Bird came toward her. "Oh, please, sir, Mr. --Mr. Berry, get me some corn quick--quick! I want tosqueeze him once, " she demanded of Matthew, confident where she had beforebeen fearful. His response was long-limbed and enthusiastic, so that in afew seconds Mr. G. Bird stood pecking grains from her hand. The spectaclewas so lovely that I was not at all troubled by twinges of jealousy, butenjoyed it, for even at that early moment I think I felt a mercenaryinterest in seeing the friendship between the Golden Bird and theApple-Blossom sealed. In her I psychologically scented an ally, and Ienjoyed the hug bestowed upon him fully as much or even more than he did. It was a lovely picture that the kiddie made as she knelt at our feet withthe white fluff balls and wings whirring and clucking around her. 

"Yes; let's go into the chicken business, Ann, " said Matthew, as his eyesdanced with artistic pleasure. "You love 'em, don't you, Miss--MissCorn-tassel?" he asked, with teasing delight in his voice as well as in hiseyes. 

"Yes sir, " she answered as she looked up at him merrily, all fear of himgone. 

"Say, what do you think of going into the business with your Uncle Matthewif Ann refuses to sell a half interest in hers to me?" he asked of her inhis jolly booming voice, with a smile many inches wide across his face. "I'll put up the capital, you put up the work, and we'll take all theprizes away from Ann. "

"I don't want to take the prizes from Miss Ann. I'd rather have Reds so wecould both get ribbons, " she answered as she dimpled up at me asaffectionately as if she had tagged at my gingham skirts at our sixth andsecond years. 

"Reds it shall be, Corn-tassel, and I'll be back with them as soon as anadvertisement in the daily papers can find them for me. I'll start thesearch right now, " said Matthew, teasing the kiddie as if he had known herall his life, but with an expression turning to the genuine poultrybusiness enthusiasm. "You and Ann come on down to the gate with me in thecar and we'll talk--"

But just here an interruption occurred in the way of a hoarse squawk comingfrom around the corner of the house. Hastily my eye called the roll of theLadies of Leghorn and found them all present just as the tall young farmerwhose ears had cooled down the day before over at Riverfield enough to lethim admire the Golden Bird and family appeared around from behind the hugelilac at the corner of the house. He was attired as yesterday in thebeautiful dull-blue overall and jacket; his hair was the color of Polly'sand shocked from under the edges of a floppy gray hat, and in his arms hecarried a large hen the identical color of Pan's head. 

"Howdy, Miss Nancy, " he said in a voice as shy as Polly's, and his eyeswere also as blue and shy as hers. He looked right through Matthew until Iintroduced them, then he shifted the hen and shook hands with Polly's"Pleased to make your acquaintance" greeting. 

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Beesley, " said Matthew, exerting more charm ofmanner than I had ever seen him use before. "My, but that is a gorgeousbird you have!"

"She's a right good hen, but she's a mongrel. There isn't a singlethoroughbred Rhode Island Red hereabouts. I aim to get a setting of pureeggs for Polly this spring if I sell my hawgs as good as Mr. Adam perdicksI will. I brought her as a present to you, Miss Nancy, 'cause she's beena-brooding about two days, and if you get together a setting of eggs thelast of next week she'll hatch 'em all. She carried three broods lastyear. "

"Oh, Mr. Beesley, how lovely of you, " I exclaimed, as I reached out my armsfor the gorgeous old red ally. "I like her better than any present I everhad in all my life!" This I said before the face of Matthew Berry, with acomplete loss of memory of all of the wonderful things he had been givingme from my début bouquet of white orchids and violets to the tiny scarabfrom the robe of an Egyptian princess that I wore in the clasp of myplatinum wrist-watch. 

"Well, I should say!" Matthew exclaimed, with not a thought of thecomparison in his generous mind. "Did you know that your sister, MissPolly, and I are going into the Rhode Island Red business together? We werejust deciding the details as you came around the house. What do you say tocoming in? How many shall I buy? Say, about fifty hens and half a dozencocks? Let's start big while we are about it. If Ann is going to makethree thousand dollars a year off one rooster and ten hens, we can makefifteen off of five times as many. "

"Yes, and we can bust the business all to pieces with too much stock, "answered the brother Corn-tassel. "Miss Nancy has got real horse-sensestarting small, and chicken-sense too. "

"I stand corrected, " answered Matthew. "I see that a flyer cannot be takenin chickens any higher than a hen can fly. I'm growing heady over thisbusiness and must go back to town to set the wheels in motion. All of youride down to the gate with me and find out what the word jolt means. "

Then after housing the Bird family in the feed-room with their guest, allhappily at scratch in the hay for the wheat and corn thrown to them by theCorn-tassels while Matthew and I went in to bid the paternal twins good-by, we all rode merrily and joltily down the long avenue under the old elms tothe big gate at the square in Riverfield. In front of thepost-office-bank-grocery emporium we deposited the Corn-tassels, introducedMatthew to Aunt Mary and Uncle Silas, with the most cordial results on bothsides, and then turned in the car out the Riverfield ribbon instead of in. 

"Just a spin will do you good, sweet thing, " said Matthew, as I settleddown close enough to his shoulder to talk and not interrupt the powerfulengine. "I want you to myself for a small moment away from your live stock, human and inhuman. "

"Oh, Matt, there is nobody just like you and you have made thisday--possible, " I said as I snuggled down into the soft cushions. 

"Honestly, Ann, do you mean positively that you don't want me--now?" heasked me as he sent the car whirling into the sun setting over Old Harpeth. 

"Not--now, " I answered bravely, though I nestled a little closer to him. Heseemed so good and strong and--certain. 

"All right then, I'll take the next best and I'll come in to your farmcircle as partner or competitor or any old thing that keeps me in youraura. I'll grow chickens with the Corn-tassels or--here we turn back for Iwant to get out again over that bit of mountain-path that leads to yourcitadel before twilight. "

"Put me out at the gate, Matt. I want to walk up, " I said, and held to itagainst his protest. I finally made him see that I really was not equal toanother "rocking" over the road, and I stood and watched him drive the hugecar away from me down the Riverfield ribbon. 

"I'm afraid I love him and just don't know it, " I said to myself, as Istood at the big gate and watched him going away from me into life as I hadknown it since birth until twenty-four hours past. And from that vision ofmy past I turned in the sunset light of the present and began to walkslowly up the long avenue into my future. "I've never known anything butdancing and motoring and being happy, and how could that teach any womanwhat love is?" I queried as I stopped and picked up a small yellow flowerout of a nest of green leaves that some sort of ancestral influence musthave introduced to me as dandelion, for I had never really met one before. I felt a pale reflection of the glow I had experienced when I took the twowarm pearls in my hands in the morning. 

Then suddenly something happened that thrilled me first with interest andthen with--I don't know what to call it, but it was not fear. A fiercelittle wind, that was earthy and sweet, but strong, ruffled across my pathand up into the tops of the elms, and with a bit of fury tore down an oldbird's-nest and flung it at my feet. It was soft and downy with bits of furand hair and wool inside, but it was all rent in two. 

"I wonder if I can hold my Elmnest steady on the limb when--" I was sayingto myself unsteadily, with a mist in my eyes for the small wrecked home, when from somewhere over my left shoulder there came Pan's reedy call, andit ended with the two Delilah notes that I had thought I heard in the earlymorning. It was with no will of my own that I answered with that coo whichI had heard Mr. G. Bird singing on the stage of the Metropolitan in my dawndream. Also I crashed rapidly through the bushes in the direction of thecall that this time came imperatively and without the coo. 

"To your left and then straight toward the oak-tree, " came human words fromPan in quick command and direction. "Hurry!"

With a last struggle with the briars I broke out into a small open spaceunder the spreading branches of the old oak and upon a scene of tragedy, that is, it was almost tragedy, for the poor old sheep was lying flat withpathetic inertia while Adam stood over her with something in his arms. 

"It's the fine Southdown ewe I persuaded Rufus to trade for one of theprecious hogs, " he said, with not so much as a word of greeting or interestpersonal to me in his voice or glance, but with such wonderful tendernessthat I came close to him because I couldn't resist it. "She dropped twinlambs last night and she is down with exhaustion. They are getting cold, and I want to take her right up to the barn where I can bed her on hay andget something hot into all three. Can you cuddle the lambs and carry themwhile I shoulder her?" As he spoke he held out his armful to me withoutwounding me by waiting for my consent. 

"Oh, the poor, cold babies!" I exclaimed, as I lifted the skirt of my long, fashionable, heavy linen smock and wrapped them in it and my arms, closeagainst my warm solar plexus, which glowed at their soft huddling. One tinything reached out a little red tongue and feebly licked my bare wrist, andI returned the caress of introduction with a kiss on its little snowy, woolly head. 

"You've the lovesome hand with the beasties, " said Pan as he smiled down onthe lambs and me. 

[Illustration: A poor old sheep was lying flat with pathetic inertia whileAdam stood over her with something in his arms]

"I like 'em because they make me sorter grow inside some place, I don'tknow exactly where, " I answered as I adjusted my woolly burden for what Iknew would seem a long march. "I'll get 'em to the barn all right, " Iassured their first friend, who was now bending over the poor mother. "Thisis what I took Russian ballet dancing and played golf for, only I didn'tknow it. "

"You'd have executed more Baskt twists and done more holes a day if you hadknown, " said Adam, with beautiful unbounded faith in me, as he braced hislegs far apart and lifted the limp mother sheep up across his back andshoulder. It seemed positively weird to be standing there acting a sceneout of Genesis and mentioning Baskt, and I was about to say so when Panstarted on ahead through the bushes and commanded me briefly to: "Come on!"

At his heels I toiled along with the sheep babies hugged close to my breastuntil at last we deposited all three on a bed of fragrant hay in a cornerof the barn. 

"What'll I feed 'em?" I questioned anxiously. "There isn't a bit of anykind of food on this place but the ribs of a hog and a muffin and a cup ofcoffee. "

"We'll give her a quart of hot water with a few drops of this heartstimulant I have in my pocket, and she'll do the rest for the family assoon as she warms up. She's got plenty of milk and needs to have it drawnbadly. There you are--go to it, youngsters. She is revived by just beingout of the wind and in the warmth, and I don't believe she needs anymedicine. She wouldn't let them to her udder if she wasn't all right. Nowwe can leave them alone for a time, and I'll give her a warm mash in alittle while. " As he spoke Adam calmly walked away from the interestingsmall family, which was just beginning a repast with great vigor, andpaused at the feed-room door. With more pride than I had ever felt whenentering a ball-room with a Voudaine gown upon me and a bunch of orchids, Ifollowed and stood at his side. 

"Well, how do you do, sweeties, and where did you get this model hen-house?Trap nests! I wouldn't have believed it of you!" said Adam to the Leghornfamily and me inclusive. 

"I didn't do it all, " I faltered as I experienced a terrific temptation tolie silently and claim all of the affectionate praise that was beaming fromPan's eyes upon all of us, but I fought and conquered it with nobility. "Matthew Berry came out and did about--no, a little more than half of it. But I did all I could, " I added, with a pathetic appeal for hisapprobation. 

"Well, half of the job is more than the world could expect of the beautifulAnn Craddock, who sits in the front of Gale Beacon's box at theMetropolitan, " answered Pan, with a little flute of laughter in his voicethat matched the crimson crests which stood more rampant than ever acrossthe tips of his ears. 

"Why, where--who are you and--" I asked in astonishment as I followed himinto the last of the sunset glow coming across the front of the barn. 

CHAPTER VI

"I'm just Adam and I go many places, " he answered with more of theintoxicating crooning laughter. 

"Rufus says that red-headed Peckerwoods go to the devil on Fridays, " Iretorted to the raillery of the Pan laugh. 

"It _was_ Friday and she didn't sing Delilah to my notion. Did she toyours?" he asked, this time with a smile that was even more interestingthan the laugh. "Come over and sit with me by the spring-house and let'sdiscuss grand opera while I eat my supper and wait until I think it is safeto give the ewe some mash. 

"I will if you'll invite me to the supper; I can't face another swine andmuffin meal, " I answered as I followed him down a path that led west fromthe barn-door. 

"I've got two apples and a double handful of black walnut kernels. Thedrinks from the spring are on you, " he answered as he led me down through athicket of slim trees that were sending out a queer fragrance to a huge oldstone spring-house from which gushed a stream of water. "Just these twospring days are bringing out the locust buds almost before time. Smell'em!" he said as he looked up into the tops of the slim trees, which wereshowing a pink-green tinge of color in the red sunset rays. 

"Oh, " I said softly as I clasped my hands to my breast and breathed indeep, "I'm glad, glad I didn't have to let them sell it. I love it. I loveit!"

"Sell it?" asked Adam as he brushed a rug of dry leaves from under thebushes upon one of the huge slabs of rock before the door of thespring-house for me to sit on, and took two apples from his pocket. 

"Yes, and I'll work both my fingers and toes to the bone before I'll giveit up, " I answered as I crouched down beside him on the leaves and began tomunch at the apple, which he had polished on the sleeve of his soft, gray, flannel shirt before he handed it to me. 

While we dined on the two red apples, the tangy nuts, and a few hardcrackers that, I think, were dog-biscuits, I told him all about it, up tomy defiance and assumption of the management of Elmnest in the libraryafter dinner. 

"I _can_ keep us from starving until I learn chickens, can't I?" I askedafter the recital, and I crouched a little closer to him on the rock, forblack shadows were coming in between the trees and into my consciousness, and all the pink moonlight had faded as a rosy dream, leaving the worldabout us silver gray. 

"I wonder just how much genuine land passion there is in the hearts ofwomen?" said Adam, softly answering my question with another. "The durationof race life depends upon it really. "

"I don't know what you are talking about, but I understand you, " I answeredhim hotly. "Also I know that I love that old sheep more than you do, andI'm going to get in line with my egg-basket when the United States beginsmustering in forces to fight, no matter what it is to be. I wish I couldsay it like I feel it to that Mr. Secretary Evan Baldwin, who forgets thatwomen are the natural--the nutritive sex. "

"I wish you could, " said kind Adam, with one of Pan's railing laughs. 

"Don't laugh at me--I'm getting born all over, and it is hard, " I said witha sob in my throat. 

"Forgive me! I'm not really laughing--it's just a form--form of thePeckerwood's nature-worship, " he answered as he took my hand in his warmone for a second. "Let's go finish up with old sheep mother, " he added ashe began to pad swiftly away up the path, drawing me after him. 

"Yes, I _am_ growing inside, " I assured myself as I for the second nightfell asleep on the soft bosom of my family tradition of four posts. 

One of the most bromidic performances that human beings indulge inanywhere from their thirty-fifth to eightieth years is to sigh, look wise, and make this remark: "If I could only begin life over again, knowing whatI do now!"

I'm never going to be impressed by that again, and I'm going to answerstraight out from the shoulder, "Well, it would be a great strain to you ifyou found yourself doing it. "

That was about what my entry into life at Elmnest, Riverfield, Harpeth, was, and in many places it rubbed and hurt my pride; in many places at manytimes it sapped my courage; in many ways it pruned and probed into myinnermost being with a searching knife to see if I really did have anyintelligence or soul, and at all times it left me with a feeling of justhaving been sprouted off the cosmic. I know what I mean, but it doesn'tsound as if I did. This is the way most of it happened to me in my firstsix weeks of life in the rustic. 

How did I know that when you cleaned up a house that hadn't been cleanedup for about fifteen years you must wait for ten days after you came tothat realization for a sunshiny day, and carry all the beds out in the yardbefore you began, and that no matter how much awful dust and cobwebs youswept and mopped out or how much old furniture you polished until itreflected your face, it was all perfectly futile unless the bed-sunningceremony had been first observed? Just how were the ability to speak Frenchin the most exclusive circles of Parisian society and a cultivatedknowledge of every picture-gallery in the world going to keep me frommaking a blunder that would put me down in Mrs. Pennie Addcock's mind as abarbarian?

"Why, Mrs. Tillett and me have been getting ready all along to come andhelp you beat and sun the beds the first sunshiny day and then turn to withour buckets and mops and brooms. Now you've gone and done the wrong thingby all this polishing before a single bed had been beat and aired. " As shespoke Mrs. Addcock surveyed my house, upon which I had spent every wakingmoment of my muscular strength, assisted by Polly Corn-tassel and sometimesBud of the blue eyes, but not at all by Rufus, who resented the cleansingprocess to such an extent that he wrapped up his jaw in a piece of oldflannel and retired to the hay-loft when Bud and Polly and I insisted oninvading the horrors of his kitchen. 

"Oh, my dear Mrs. Addcock, won't you and Mrs. Tillett please forgive me forbeing so ignorant and help me do it to-day?" I pleaded as I picked up asmall Tillett, who was peeping soft wooing at me from where he balancedhimself on uncertain and chubby legs against his mother's skirts. 

"Well, in this case there is just nothing else to do, but turn to on thebeds now, wrong end first, but next year you'll know, " she answered me withindulgent compromise in her voice. "And I guess we'll find some broom andmop work yet to be done. Come on, Mrs. Tillett. I guess Nancy can mind thebaby all right while we work. "

"Oh, he ain't no trouble now except he wants to find out all about theworld by tasting of it. Don't let him eat a worm or sech, and he'll be allright, " answered the beaming young mother of the toddler. "And, Miss Nancy, I was jest going to tell you that I have got a nice pattern of a plain kindof work dress if you would like to use it, " she added as she pointedly didnot look at my peasant's smock that hung in such lovely long lines that Ifound myself pausing much too often before one of the mirrors in the bigliving-room to admire them. Mrs. Tillett's utility costume was of bluechecked gingham and had no lines at all except top and bottom, with a beltin between. Both ladies wore huge gingham aprons, and I must say that theylooked like the utility branch of the feminine species while I may haveresembled the ornamental. But they were dear neighbors, and the Tillettbaby and I had a very busy and happy day with the Golden Bird and his busyfamily while the two missionaries did over every bed in Elmnest, eveninvading the living-room and shaking out the cushions of the old couch inthe very face of one of the charges of Xerxes' army. I put his babykins ina big feed-basket in a nest of hay, and the two lamb twins came and lickedhim every now and then by way of welcome into my barn nursery. The fineyoung sheep mother was now in blooming health, and the valuable progenywere growing by the hours, most of which they spent at the maternal fount, opposite each other and both small tails going like a new variety ofspeedometer. 

"I see mother ewe knows enough to hang around the lady of the barn andfeed-bins. Those lambkins are two pounds heavier than any born within aweek of them at Plunkett's, " Pan had said not a week past, and both sheepmother and I had beamed with gratified pride at his commendation. 

[Illustration: I put his babykins in a big feed-basket and the lamb twinscame and welcomed him]

Then while the renovation of the four-posters went on with a happy buzz, Ibusied myself in and out and about with the numberless details of care ofthe Bird family. My knowledge of music earned by many long hours in thepractice of harmonics and a delighted and diligent attendance at the operaseasons of New York, Berlin, and Paris, to say nothing of Boston andLondon, had not, in my new life, in any way aided me to see that I had madea mistake in ordering a three-hundred-egg incubator to start building aprize flock with Mr. Golden Bird and the ten Ladies Leghorn, but in thiscase Adam had guided me from off that shoal, and by telegram I had changedthe order for three fifty-egg improved metal mothers and the implementsneeded in accomplishing their maternal purpose. In one of them were nowfifty beautiful white pearls that I could not refrain from visiting andregarding through the little window in the metallic side of the metallicmother at least several times an hour, though I knew that twice a day toregulate the heat and fill the lamp was sufficient. 

"I don't believe I'll be able to stand seeing them hop out, " I remarked toBaby Tillett, the lambkins, and the good old red ally, who was patientlyseated on a box over fifteen of the pearls. Adam had kept the poor olddarling covering some white china eggs for nearly two weeks before he gaveher the pearls on the same day we put the forty-five in the interior of hermetal rival. I didn't at first understand his sinister purpose in thusholding her back until the metal rival could get an even start, but I didlater. 

"I hope you have a mighty good hatching, Nancy, but I have no faith inhalf-way measures, and a tin box is a half-way measure for a hen, just ascleaning house without bed-sunning is trifling, " said Mrs. Addcock, with afinal prod as she came out to the barn with Mrs. Tillett to reclaim BabyTillett. 

"You ain't married, Miss Nancy, and you won't understand how babies needmothers, even the chicken kind, " said Mrs. Tillett, as she cuddled BabyTillett gurglingly against her shoulder and followed in the wake of Mrs. Addcock with the mops and buckets down the walk and around the house. 

I stood beside the tin triumph of science, with my baby lambs licking at myhands, while Mrs. Ewe nuzzled for corn in one of my huge pockets, and ababy collie, which Pan had brought the week before, when her eyes werescarcely open, tumbled about my feet, and looked after the retreatingwomen--and I did understand. 

"Still, I'll do the best I can by your--your progeny, Mr. G. Bird, " I saidas the great big, white old fellow came and pecked in my pocket for corn inperfect friendliness with Mrs. Ewe. 

I was called upon to keep my promise in less than a week. It might havebeen a tragedy if Bess Rutherford's practical sense had not helped save myaffections from a panic. This is how it happened. 

"Yes, chicken culture is a germ that spreads by contagion. I'm not at allsurprised at your friends, " Adam had answered when I had appealed to him toknow if I could sell Bess Rutherford just six of the baby chicks, when theycame out, for her to begin a brood in a new back-yard system, only Bess isso progressive that she is having a nice big place in the conservatory thatopens out of her living-room cleared for them to run about out of their tinmother when they want to. She says she believes eternal vigilance is theprice of success with poultry as the book she bought, which is differentfrom mine, says, and Bess decided that she wanted her chickens where shecould go in to see them comfortably when she came from parties and thingswithout having to go around in the back yard, which is the most lovelygarden in Hayesville anyway, in her slippers and party clothes. "I'd sellher the chicks at twenty dollars apiece, and that's cheap if they produceas they ought to with their blood and such--such care as she intends tobestow on them. The twenty-dollar price will either cure her or start anidle woman into a producer, " said Adam, in answer to my request, as he cutme out a pair of shoes from a piece of hide like that which the shoes uponhis own feet were made from. It was raining, and I sat at his feet in thebarn and laboriously sewed what he had cut. 

I told Bess what Adam said, and she paid me the hundred and twenty dollarsright on the spot, and then insisted on opening the incubator at theregular time for the ten minutes the book directs, to cool off the eggsnight and morning, and putting her monogram on six of the eggs. To do thisshe decided to stay all night, and telephoned her maid, Annette, to packher bag and let Matthew bring it out to her when he came to help PollyCorn-tassel put their first batch of eggs into their incubator. Matthew hadbought twenty hens and two nice brotherly roosters, and they had almostcaught up with me in the number of their brown babies on the whole shells. Matthew had been coming out night and morning ever since he had broughtout his and the Beesleys' poultry and had either had supper with us atElmnest or we had both got riz biscuits and peach preserves and chickenfried with Aunt Mary and Uncle Silas and Polly and Bud. I had subjugatedRufus into cooking a few canned things, for which I had traded one of hispig jaws at the bank-post-office-grocery emporium, and Uncle Silas hadthrown in a few potatoes, and Adam had brought me a great bag of whitebeans from across Paradise Ridge, so the diet at Elmnest had changedslightly. The absorbed twins had never noticed it at all; only theydisplayed more hearty vigor in attacking the problems of literature andhistory that absorbed them. Also almost every day Pan brought me younggreen things that were sprouting in the woods, and I cooked them for him inan old iron pot down by the spring-house and had supper with him. 

"Those two dears are the most precious old Rips I ever beheld, " said Besswhen we had retired to my room after supper on the fateful night of ournear tragedy. "You are so fortunate, Ann, to have two delicious fathers inname only. Mine pokes into my business at all angles and insists on so muchattention from me that I don't know how I'll amount to anything in thisworld. He says it takes a very fine and brainy woman to earn about tenthousand dollars a year being affectionate and agreeable to her own father, and that I get so much because there is no possible competition as I am anonly child, but all the same it looks like unearned money to me. Just waituntil those six little chickens begin to earn me a hundred dollars a monthlike my book guarantees they will do in their second year; then I'm goingto show dad just how much I love him for himself and give him back mybank-book. "

"Still it is an awful lot of work, Bess, " I remonstrated feebly, because Iknew that I couldn't have made myself believe all I had learned in just twomonths at Elmnest the day I started in business. 

"You know, Ann, I told you about that wonderful Evan Baldwin who has beenin Hayesville two or three times this winter, the man to whom the governorgave the portfolio of agriculture, I believe they call it. Well, he was atthe Old Hickory ball the other night when you wouldn't come, and I told himall about you and about buying those little chickens from you, and he wasso wonderful and sympathetic that Owen Murray sulked dreadfully. Heencouraged me entirely and told me a lot of things about some of hisexperiment stations in all the different States. You thought you were goingto stagger me with that twenty-dollar price on those chicks in shell, buthe said he had paid as much as five hundred dollars apiece for a few eggshe got from some prize chickens in England and had brought them over in abasket in his own hand. He said he thought from what I told him about theGolden Bird that twenty would be about right for one of his sons ordaughters. Ann, he is a perfectly delicious man, and you must meet him. Itis awful the way all the girls and women just follow him in droves, thoughI'm sure he doesn't seem to notice us. "

"I never want to lay eyes on him, Bess. He has insulted me and I never--"but just here a thought struck me in my solar plexus and crinkled meentirely up. "Oh, Bess, I forgot to fill the lamp in the incubatorto-night, and I believe the chicken eggs will be all chilled to death. Whatwill I do? It is near midnight and it's--it's--c--cold. "

"Let's get 'em quick and maybe we can resuscitate 'em. Don't you rememberabout reviving frozen people in that first-aid class we had just after thewar broke out and we didn't know whether we were in it or not? Come on, quick!" Bess seized the quilt from the bed and descended into the backyard, clad only in her lingerie for sleeping, a silk robe-de-chambre andsatin mules, while I followed, likewise garmented. 

"Oh, dear, how cold, " wailed Bess as the frosty Spring air poured around usin our flight to the barn. 

"Put the quilt around you, " I chattered. 

"I'm going to put all the egg chickens in it, " she answered as we scuttledinto the barn out of the wind. 

"The lamp is out, but the eggs still feel warm to the hand, " I said as Iknelt in deep contrition beside the metal hen. 

"Fill it and light it, and they'll soon warm up, " advised Bess. 

"There's no oil on the place. I forgot it, " I again wailed. 

"Isn't there room under the hen here?" asked Bess, with the brilliant mindshe inherited from Mr. Rutherford running over the speed limit, and as shespoke she felt under the old Red Ally, who only clucked good naturedly. 

"It feels like she is covering a hundred now, and there's no room formore, " said Bess, answering herself with almost a wail in her voice. "Whatwill we do? The book says April-hatched chickens are the best, and thesewould have come out in just a few days. "

And then from somewhere in my heart, which had harbored the cuddle of thecold lamb babies against it, there rose a knowledge of first aid for thenear-baby chickens. 

"Oh, Bess, " I exclaimed, "let's wrap the tray of eggs up in the quilt andtake it up-stairs to bed with us. We are just as warm as the hen, and I'llget Rufus to go for Polly at daylight to fix the lamp while we stay in bedand huddle them until the incubator warms up, as it does in just an hourafter it's lighted. "

"Ann, you are both maternal and intellectual, " said Bess, with the deepestadmiration in her voice. "Let's hurry or we'll never get warmed upourselves. "

And in very much less time than could be imagined Bess Rutherford and Iwere in the middle of the four-poster, sunk deep into the feathers with theprecious pearls of life carefully imbedded between us. 

"Now don't joggle, " Bess commanded as we got all settled and tucked in. 

"Mrs. Tillett lets little Tillett sleep with her cold nights, " I murmureddrowsily. 

"I don't believe it; no woman would undertake the responsibility of humanlife like that, " Bess answered as she tucked in a loose end of cover underthe pillow. 

"Most of the world mothers sleep with their babies, " Adam said when I toldhim about little Tillett, "and--" I was answering when I trailed off into adream of walking a tight rope over a million white eggs. In the morningBess said she had dreamed that she was a steam roller trying to make a roadof eggs smooth enough to run her car over. 

CHAPTER VII

Also Bess and I woke to find ourselves heroines. Matthew came to breakfastafter he had seen the lamps in his mock hens burning brightly, and broughtPolly with him to congratulate us on the rescue of our infant industry. Polly had told him of our brilliant coup against old Jack Frost, and he wasall enthusiasm, as was also Uncle Cradd, while father beamed because he washearing me praised and thought of something else at the same time. LaterOwen Murray came out for Bess in his car, and insisted on buying six moreof the eggs, because, he said, they had now become a sporting propositionand interested him. Bess agreed to board them to maturity in herconservatory for him at fifty cents a day per head and let him visit themat any time. He gave me a check immediately. He offered to buy six ofPolly's chicks at the same price, but Matthew refused to let her sell themat all, and also Bess refused to have any mixing of breeds in herconservatory. Polly didn't know enough to resent losing the hundred andtwenty dollars, because she had never had more than fifty cents in herlife, and Matthew didn't realize what it would have meant to her to havethat much money, because he had more than he needed all his life, so theywere all happy and laughed through one of Rufus' worst hog effusions in theway of a meal for lunchers, but--but I had in a month learned to understandwhat a dollar might mean to a man or woman, and at the thought of that twohundred and forty dollars Mr. G. Bird and family had earned for me in theirsecond month of my ownership my courage arose and girded up its loins forthe long road ahead. I knew enough to know that these returns were a kindof isolated nugget in the poultry business, and yet why not?

"We'll sell Mr. Evan Baldwin a five-hundred-dollar gold egg yet, Mr. G. Bird, " I said to myself. 

After luncheon they all departed and left me to my afternoon's work. Matthew lingered behind the others and helped me feed the old red ally andMrs. Ewe and Peckerwood Pup. 

"I was talking to Evan Baldwin at the club after his first lecture theother night and, Ann, I believe I'll be recruited for the plow as well asfor the machine-gun. I'm going to buy some land out there back of theBeesleys' and raise sheep on it. He says Harpeth is losing millions a yearby not raising sheep. I'm going to live at Riverfield a lot of the time andmotor back and forth to business. Truly, Ann, the land bug has bit meand--and it isn't just--just to come up on your blind side. But, dear, nowdon't you think that it would be nice for me to live over here with you asa perfectly sympathetic agricultural husband?"

"I needed a husband so much more yesterday to help with the pruning of therose-vines than I do to-day, Matthew, " I answered with a laugh. Matthew'sproposals of marriage are so regular and so alike that I have to avoidmonotony in the wit of my answers. 

"I'm never in time to do a single thing on this place, and I don't see howeverything gets done for you without my help. Who helps you?"

"Everybody, " I answered. I had never had the courage to break Adam toMatthew in the long weeks I had been seeing them both every day, and ofcourse Pan had never come out of the woods when Matthew or any of the restwere there. "I'll tell you what you can do for me, " I said, with a suddeninspiration about getting rid of him, for the red-headed Peckerwood hadpromised to come and put some kind of hoodoo earth around the peonies andirises and pinks in my garden, also to bud some kind of a new rose on oneof the old blush ones, and I wanted the place quiet so he would ventureout of his lair. "You can go on to town and look after Polly carefully. Sheis going in with Bess for the first time since their infatuation, and Iwant her eyes to open gradually on the world out over Paradise Ridge. "

"Ann, ought they ever to open?" asked Matthew, suddenly, with the colorcoming up to the roots of his hair and burning in his ears like it stilldoes in Bud Corn-tassel's when he comes over to see or help me or to bringme something from Aunt Mary, his mother. "Bess is one of the best offriends I've got in the world, but I just--just couldn't see Corn-tasseldancing in some man's arms in the mere hint of an evening gown that Bessoccupied while fox-trotting with Evan Baldwin at the club the other night. "

"Who was the belle of the ball, Matt?" I asked him, with a flame in mycheeks, for the pink and lavender chiffon gown Bess had worn was one ofthe Voudaine creations that I had brought from Paris and sold her after thecrash. 

"Oh, Bess always is when you are not there and, Ann, don't for a momentthink that I--I--" Poor Matthew was stuttering while I rubbed the tip of mynose against his sleeve in the way of a caress, as I had a feed-bucket inone hand and a water-pan in the other. 

"Do go and shop with Polly and Bess as a force for protection. I must havea quiet afternoon to commune with my garden, " I commanded. 

"Sometimes you make me so mad, Ann Craddock, that--that--" Matthew wasstuttering when Uncle Cradd appeared at the back door to chat with him, andI made my escape through the barn and out into the woods. I had thoughtthat I saw a glint of Peckerwood red pass through the pasture that way, andI was determined that Pan shouldn't give me and the garden the slip as healways did when he saw anybody around. 

As I ran rapidly through the old pasture, which was overgrown withbuckbushes and sassafras sprouts, which were turning into great pink andgreen fern clumps in the warm April sunshine, I gave the two or threeSaint-Saëns Delilah notes which had been robbed of any of their wickedDelilah flavor for me by having heard Mr. G. Bird sing them so beautifullyon the stage of the Metropolitan in that first dream night in Elmnest. ButI called and then called in vain until at last I came out to the huge oldrock that juts out from the edge of the rugged little knoll at the far endof the pasture. Here I paused and looked down on Elmnest in the afternoonsunshine with what seemed to be suddenly newly opened eyes. I had been inand out of Elmnest to such an extent for the last six weeks that I hadn'thad a chance to get off and look at it from an outsider's standpoint, andnow suddenly I was taking that view of it. The old rose and green brickhouse, covered in by its wide, gray shingle roof, the gables and windowsof which were beginning to be wreathed in feathery and pink young vines, which were given darker notes here and there in their masses by the sturdygreen of the honey-suckles, hovered down on a small plateau rear-guarded bythe barn and sheds, flanked by the garden and the gnarled old orchard, andfrom its front door the long avenue of elms led far down to the group ofRiverfield houses that huddled at the other end. All villages in the Stateof Harpeth have been so built around the old "great houses" of the coloniallandowners, and between their generations has been developed a communisticlife that I somehow feel is to bridge from the pioneer life of this countryto the great new life of the greater commune that is coming to us. Downthere in Riverfield I knew that there was sin and sorrow and birth anddeath, but there was no starvation, and for every tragedy there was aneighbor to reach out a helping hand, and for every joy there were heartyand friendly rejoicings. 

"Oh, and I'm one of them--I belong, " I said to myself as I noted eachcottage into which I went and came at will, as friend and beloved neighbor. Even at that distance I could see a small figure, which I knew to be LuellaSpain, running up the long avenue, and in its hand I detected somethingthat, I was sure, was a covered plate or dish. "And I'm making Elmnestfulfil its destiny into the future--into the future that the great EvanBaldwin is preaching about in town, instead of practicing out in thefields. I wonder if he really knows a single thing about farming. "

"He does, " came an answer from right at my shoulder in Pan's flutiestvoice, and I turned to find him standing just behind me on the very edge ofthe old tilting rock. 

"How do you know?" I demanded of him as I took the clean white cloth tiedup at four corners, gypsy-fashion, which he offered me and which, I couldsee, was fairly bursting with green leaves of a kind I had never seenbefore. 

"I was with him at the Metropolitan the night I saw Ann Craddock in GaleBeacon's box, you know, --the night that Mr. G. Bird sang 'Delilah, ' andalso I've slept on the bare ground with him in his woods in Michigan and onhis red clay in Georgia. "

"Well, I hate him all the same for the insult of his offer to buy Elmnest, though I doubt if he has any family pride or any family either, so, ofcourse, he wouldn't understand that it _is_ an insult to offer to buy one'scolonial home with holes in the door to shoot Indians through, " I answeredwith the temper that always came at the mention of the name of a man I hadchosen to consider a foe without any consent on his part at all. 

"You'd think he was born and raised in a hollow log if you should everinterview him, and he hasn't any family, but from some of the motions he ismaking, I think he intends to have, " answered Pan, with one of his mostfluty jeers, and he shook his head until the crests ruffled still lowerover the tips of his ears. 

"Are you--you one of his agents--that is, _spies_, and was it you thatinsulted me by wanting to buy Elmnest just because it was poor and old?" Idemanded, with the color in my cheeks. 

"I am not his spy or his agent, and do you want to come down to thespring-house and cook these wild-mustard shoots for our dinner, or shall Igo at our old garden with the prospect of an empty stomach at sunset?"

"Why won't you come in to dinner with me?" I asked, with a mollified laugh, though I knew I was bringing down upon myself about my hundredth refusal ofproffered hospitality. 

"Two reasons--first, because I won't eat with my neighbors at the 'greathouse' when I can't eat with them in the cottage, and I just can't eat thegrease that a lot of the poorer villagers deluge their food with. I'm Pan, and I live in the woods on roots and herbs. Second--because about six weeksago I found a farm woman who would come out at my wooing to cook and eatthe herbs and roots with me and I could have her to myself all alone. Now, will you come on down to the spring?" And without waiting for my reply, Adam started down the hill, crosswise from the path by which I hadascended, padding ahead in his weird leather sandals and breaking a pathfor me through the undergrowth as I followed close at his shoulder, anorder of rough travel to which I had become accustomed in the weeks thathad passed and that now seemed to me--well, I might say racial. 

In the riot of an April growing day, in which we could hear life fairlyteem and buzz at our feet, on right, and left, and overhead, Adam and Iworked shoulder to shoulder in the old garden of Elmnest. Every now andthen I ran down to the spring to put a green fagot under the pot of herbs, which needed to simmer for hours to be as delicious as was possible forthem. From the library came a rattle and bang of literary musketry from theblessed parental twins, who were for the time being with Julius Cæsar in"all Gaul, " and oblivious to anything in the twentieth century, even aspring-intoxicated niece and daughter down in her grandmother's garden witha Pan from the woods; occasionally Rufus rattled a pot or a pan; but savefor these few echoes of civilization, Adam and I delved and spaded andclipped and pruned and planted in the old garden just as if it had been theplot of ground without the walls of Eden in which our first parents wereforced to get busy. 

"Great work, Farmwoman, " said Adam as we sat down on the side steps to eat, bite-about, the huge red apple he had taken from the bundle of emigrantappearance which he always carried over his shoulder on the end of a longhickory stick and which I had by investigation at different times found tocontain everything from clean linen to Sanskrit poetry for father. To-day Ifound the manuscript score of a new opera by no less a person than Hurterhimself, which he insisted on having me hum through with him while we atethe apple. 

"I told Hurter I thought that fourth movement wouldn't do, and now I knowit after hearing you try it through an apple, " said Pan as he rose frombeside me, tied the manuscript up in the bandana bundle, and picked up hislong pruning-knife. "Now, Woman, we'll put a curb on the rambling of everylast rambler in this garden and then we can lay out the rows for Bud toplant with the snap beans to-morrow. " Adam, from the first day he had metme, had addressed me simply with my generic class name, and I had found ita good one to which to make answer. Also Adam had shown me the profit andbeauty of planting all needful vegetables mixed up with the flowers in therich and loamy old garden, and had adjusted a cropping arrangement betweenthe Corn-tassel Bud and me that was to be profitable to us both, Bud onlydoing in odd hours the work I couldn't do, and getting a share of theprofits. 

"Don't work me to death to-day, " I pleaded, and told him about the rescueof the babies Bird with so much dramatic force that his laughter rang outwith such volume that old Rufus came to the kitchen window to look out andshake his head, and I knew he was muttering about "Peckerwoods, " "devils, "and the sixth day of the week. "Will the chicks live all right, do youthink?" I asked anxiously. 

"They're safe if they never got cold to the touch and you didn't joggle 'emtoo much. Do either you or Miss Rutherford happen to er--er--kick in yoursleep?"

"We do not!" I answered with dignity, as I snipped away a dead branch ofivy from across the path. 

"I just thought Miss Rutherford might from--"

"You don't know Bess; she's so executive that--"

"That she wouldn't kick eggs for anything, " finished Pan, mockingly. "Shedoes pretty well in the Russian ballet, doesn't she?"

"Oh, I wish you could just see her in the 'Cloud Wisp'!" I exclaimed, withthe greatest pride, for Bess Rutherford has nothing to envy Pavlova about. 

"I have--er--have a great desire to so behold her at some future time, "answered Pan, with one of his eery laughs, and I could almost see hoofsthrough the raw hide of his shoes. I would have ruffled the red crests offof the tips of his ears to see if they really were pointed if he had notstood just out of reach of my hand, where it would have been impossible tocatch him if I tried. 

"You won't eat with me in civilization, you won't meet any of my friends, and I don't believe you ever want to please me, " I said as I turned awayfrom his provocation and began again with the scissors. 

"I don't like world girls, " he said with the fluty coo in his voice thatalways calms the Ladies Leghorn when they are ruffled. "I only love farmwomen. The moon is beginning to get a rise out of the setting sun, andlet's go away from these haunts of men to our own woods home. Come along!"As he spoke Pan pocketed his long knife, picked up his stick and bundle, and began to pad away through the trees down towards the spring, with me athis shoulder, and for the first time he held my hand in his as I followedin my usual squaw style. 

In all the long dreary weeks that followed I was glad that I had had thatdinner at sunset and moonrise with him down in the cove at the spring thatwas away from all the world. All during the days that never seemed to end, as I went upon my round of duties, I put the ache of the memories of itfrom me, but in the night I took the agony into my heart and cherished it. 

"And it's the Romney hand ye have with the herb-pot, Woman dear, " said Adamas he squatted down beside our simmering pot and stirred it with the cleanhickory stick I had barked for that purpose when, very shortly after highnoon, I had put the greens, with the two wild onion sprigs and the handfulof inevitable black-walnut kernels, into the iron pot set on the two rockswith their smoldering green fire between. "You know you'd rather be eatingthis dinner of sprouts and black bread with your poor Adam than--thandancing that 'Cloud Drift' in town with Matthew Berry--or Baldwin theenemy. "

"Yes, " I answered, as I knelt beside him and thrust in another slim stickand tasted the juice of the pot off the end. "But it would be hard to makeMatthew believe it. I forgot to tell you that Matt is really going in forfarming, thanks to the evil influence of your friend Evan Baldwin, whowouldn't know a farm if he met one on the road, a real farm, I mean. PoorMatt little knows the life of toil he is plotting for himself. "

"Is he coming to live at Elmnest?" asked Adam, in a voice of entireunconcern, as he took the black loaf from his gypsy pack and began to cutit up into hunks and lay it on the clean rock beside the pot. 

"He is not, " I answered with an indignation that I could see no reasonfor. 

"Sooner or later, Woman, you'll have to take a mate, " was the primitivestatement that confronted me as I lifted the pot with the skirt of myblouse and poured the greens into two brown crockery bowls that Adam keptsecreted with the pot on a ledge of the old spring-house. 

"Well, a husky young farmer is the only kind of a man who need apply. Imean a born rustic. I couldn't risk an amateur with the farm after allyou've taught me, " I answered as we seated ourselves on the warm earth sideby side and began to dip the hunks of black bread into our bowls and liftthe delicious wilted leaves to our mouths with it, a mode of consumption ithad taken Pan several attempts to teach me. Pan never talks when he eats, and he seems to browse food in a way that each time tempts me more and moreto reach out my hand and lift one of the red crests to see about the pointsof his ears. 

"Do you want to hear my invocation to my ultimate woman?" he asked as heset his bowl down after polishing it out with his last chunk of bread someminutes after I had so finished up mine. 

"Is it more imperative than the one you give me under my window before Ihave had less than a good half-night's sleep every morning?" I asked as Icrushed a blade of meadow fern in my hands and inhaled its queer tang. 

 "I await my beloved in Grain fields. Come, woman! In thy eyes is truth. Thy body must give food with Sweat of labor, and thy lips Hold drink for love thirst. I am thy child. I am thy mate. Come!"

Pan took my hand in his as he chanted, and held my fingers to his lips, andended his chant with several weird, eery, crooning notes blown across hislips and through my fingers out into the moonlit shadows. 

"I feel about you just as I do about one of Mrs. Ewe's lambkins, " Iwhispered, with a queer answering laugh in my voice, which held andrepeated the croon in his. 

 "I am thy child. I am thy mate. Oh, come!"

again chanted Pan, and it surely wasn't imagination that made me think thatthe red crests ruffled in the wind. The light in his eyes was unlikeanything I had ever seen; it smouldered and flamed like the embers underthe pot beside the rock. It drew me until the sleeve of my smock brushedhis sleeve of gray flannel. His arms hovered, but didn't quite enclose me. 

"And the way I am going to feel about all the little chickens out of theincubator, " I added slowly as if the admission was being drawn out of me. Still the arms hovered, the crests ruffled, and the eyes searched downinto the depths of me, which had so lately been plowed and harrowed andsown with a new and productive flower. 

"And the old twin fathers, " I added almost begrudgingly, as I cast him mylast treasure. 

Then with a laugh that I know was a line-reproduction descended from theone that Adam gave when he first recognized Eve, Pan folded me into hisarms, laid his red head on my breast, and held up his lips to mine with a"love-thirst" that it took me more than a long minute to slack to the pointof words. 

"I knew there was one earth woman due to develop at the first decade ofthis century, and I've found her, " Pan fluted softly as he in turn took meon his breast and pressed his russet cheek against the tan of mine. "I'mgoing to take her off into the woods and then in a generation salvation forthe nation will come forth from the forest. "

"My word is given to the Golden Bird to see his progeny safe into theworld, and I must do that before--" but my words ended in a laugh as Islipped out of Pan's arms and sprang to my feet and away from him. 

"We'll keep that faith with Mr. Bird to-night, and then I can take you withme before daylight, " said Pan as he collected his Romney bundle with hisleft hand and me with his right and began to pad up the path from thespring-house towards the barn under a shower of the white locust-blossoms, which were giving forth their last breath of perfume in a gorgeous volume. 

"To-night?" I asked from the hollow between his breast and his arm where Iwas fitted and held steadily so that my steps seemed to be his steps andthe breath of my lungs to come from his. 

"Yes; most of the eggs were pipped when I went in the barn to put away thetools, " answered Adam, with very much less excitement than the occasioncalled for. 

"Oh, why--why didn't you tell me?" I demanded as I came out of the firsthalf of a kiss and before I retired into the last half. 

"Too hungry--had to be fed before they got to eating at your heart, "answered Pan in a way that made me know that he meant me and not thedandelion greens and brown bread. 

"You are joking me; they are not due until day after to-morrow, " I said asI took my lips away and began to hurry us both towards the barn. 

"All April hatches are from two to three days early, " was Adam's prosaicand instructive answer that cut the last kiss short as we entered thebarn-door. 

CHAPTER VIII

Quickly I released myself from his arm and flew to kneel in front of themetal mother, with the electric torch aimed directly into the little windowthat revealed all her inmost processes. The Peckerwood Pan hovered just atmy shoulder, and together we beheld what was to me the most wonderfulphenomenon of nature that had ever come my way. No sunset from Pike's Peakor high note from the throat of Caruso could equal it in my estimation. Behold, the first baby Bird stepped forth into the world right before myastonished and enraptured eyes! It was in this manner. 

"Look, right here next to the glass, " said Adam, as he put his fingeragainst the lower left-hand corner of the peep window, and there I directedmy torch. One of the great white pearls had a series of little holes aroundone end of it, and while I gazed a sharp little beak was thrust suddenlyfrom within it. The shell fell apart, and out stepped the first smallLeghorn Bird with an assurance that had an undoubted resemblance to that ofhis masculine parent. For a moment he blinked and balanced; then hestretched his small wings and shook himself, an operation that seemed tofluff about fifty per cent. Of the moist aspect from his plump little body, and then he deliberately turned and looked into my wide-opened eyes. Ipromptly gasped and sat down on the barn floor, with my head weakly cuddledagainst Adam's knee. 

"Two more here on the right-hand side, Woman, " said Adam, as he kneltbeside me, took the torch, supported me in my reaction of astonishment, andshowed me where a perfect little batch of babies was being born. "Whew, Farmer Craddock, but those are fine chickens! Heaven help us, but they areall exploding at one time! Only eggs of one hundred per cent. Vigor andfertility hatch that way. Look at the moisture gathering on the glass. Ifyou put your hand in there you would find it about a hundred and ten. "

"Oh, look! G. Bird Junior, the first, is almost dry. Please, please let metake him in my hand!" I exclaimed as that five-minute-old baby pressedclose up against the glass and blinked at the light and us bewitchingly. 

"You mustn't open the door for at least twelve hours now. Come away beforethe temptation overcomes you, " commanded Pan. 

"Wait twelve hours to take that fluff-ball in my hands? Adam, you arecruel, " I said, as he pocketed the torch and left the drama of birth darkand without footlights. As he padded away towards the moonlit barn-door, Ifollowed him in reluctant protest. 

"Do you see that tall pine outlined against the sky over there on ParadiseRidge, Woman?" asked Adam, with the Pan lights and laugh coming back intohis farmer eyes and voice. "I have got to be there an hour before dawn, and it is fifteen good miles or more. I want to roll against a logsomewhere and sleep a bit, and it is now after ten o'clock. Go get yourbundle, and I'll hang it on my stick, and we will disappear into the forestforever. I know a hermit who'll put us in marriage bonds. Come!" As he heldout his arms Adam began to chant the weird tune to that mate song of hisown invention. 

"You know I can't do that, " I said as I went into his embrace and drank thechant down into my heart. "There are so many live things that I must stayto watch over. I--I'm their--mother as well as--as yours. They must befed. "

"God, there really is such a thing as a woman, " said Adam as he hid hissmouldering eyes against my lips. "You'll be waiting when I come back, andyou'll go with me the minute I call, if it's day or night? You'll be readywith your bundle?"

"You don't mean at daylight to-morrow, do you, Pan, dear?" I asked, withone of the last laughs that my heart was to know, for sometimes, it seemedforever, rippling out past his crimson crests. 

"No; listen to me, Woman, " said Adam, as he held me tenderly on his rightarm and took both my hands in his and held them pressed hard against mybreast. "I am going away to-night, and I don't know when I can get back. Ionly knew to-day I'd have to go; that's why I--I took you and put my brandon your heart to-night. I can leave you aloose in the forest and know thatI'll find you mine when I can come back. But, oh, come with me!"

"I wouldn't be your earth woman, Adam, if I left all these helpless things. I'll wait for you, and no matter when you come I'll be ready. Only, onlyyou'll never take me quite away from them all, will you?"

"No; I'll build a nest over there in the big woods, and you can go back andforth between my--my brood and Mr. G. Bird's, " promised Adam with Pan'sfluty laugh. 

"Branded, and I don't even know the initials on the brand, " I said tomyself as I stood on the front steps under a honeysuckle vine that wastwining with a musky rose in a death struggle as to the strength of theirperfumes, and watched Adam go padding swiftly and silently away from medown the long avenue of elms. A mocking-bird in a tree over by the fencewas pouring out showers of notes of liquid love, and ringdoves cooed andsoftly nestled up under the eaves above my head. "I'm a woman and I'vefound my mate. I am going to be part of it all, " I said to myself as I sankto the step and began to brood with the night around me. 

I think that God gives it sometimes to a woman to have a night in which shesits alone brooding her love until somehow it waxes so strong and bravethat it can face death by starvation and cold and betrayal and still livetriumphant. It is so that He recreates His children. 

"Now, of course, Ann, everybody admires your pluck about this retiring fromthe world and becoming a model rustic, but it does seem to me that youmight admit that some of your old friends have at least a part of theattraction for you that is vested in, well, say old Mrs. Red Ally, forinstance. Will you or will you not come in to dine and to wine and to danceat the country club with Matthew Saturday evening?" Bess delivered herselfof the text of her mission to me before she descended from her cherryroadster in front of the barn. 

"Oh, Bess, just come and see old Mrs. Red and never, never ask me to feelabout a mere friend of my childhood like I do about her, " I answered withwelcome and excitement both in my voice. "Do come quick and look!"

"Coming, " answered Bess, with delightful enthusiasm and no wounded pride, as she left the car in one motion and swept into the barn with me in abouttwo more. 

"Now, just look at that, " I said as I opened the top of the long box thatis called a brooder and is supposed to supplement the functions of themetal incubator mother in the destiny of chicken young. It has feed andwater-pans in it, straw upon the floor as a carpet, and behind flannelportières is supposed to burn a lamp with mother ardor sufficient to keepthe small fledglings warm, though orphaned. Did the week-old babies Leghornhave to be content with such mechanical mothering? Not at all! Right in themiddle of the brooder sat the old Red Ally, and her huge red wings werestretched out to cover about twenty-five of the metal-born babies and partof her own fifteen, and spread in a close, but fluffy, circle around herwere the rest of her adopted family all cosily asleep and happy at heart. "I left the top of the brooder open while I went for water the second dayafter hers and the incubator's had hatched, and when I came back she wasjust as you see her now, in possession of the entire orphan-asylum. "

"Oh, look, she's putting some out from under her and taking others in. Oh, Ann!" exclaimed Bess as she dropped on her knees beside the long box. 

"Yes; she changes them like that. I've seen her do it, " I answered, with mycheeks as pink with excitement as were those of my sympathetic friend, Elizabeth Rutherford. "And you ought to see her take them all out for awalk across the grass. They all peep and follow, and she clucks andscratches impartially. "

"Ann, " said Bess, with a great solemnity in the dark eyes that she raisedto mine, "I suppose I ought to marry Owen _this_ June. I want to haveanother winter of good times, but I--I'm ashamed to look this hen in theface. "

"Owen is perfectly lovely, " I answered her, which was a very safelynoncommittal answer in the circumstances. 

"He carries one of the chickens he bought from you in his pocket all thetime, with all necessary food, and it is much larger than any of mine orhis in my conservatory. Owen is the one who goes in to tend to them whenhe brings me home from parties and things and--and--"

"Matthew took off all of his and Polly's little Reds yesterday, and I'venever seen him so--so--" I paused for a word to express the tenderness thatwas in dear old Matt's face as he put the little tan fluff-balls one at atime into Polly Corn-tassel's outstretched skirt. 

"Matthew is a wonder, Ann, and you've got to come to this dance he isgiving Corn-tassel Saturday--all for love of you because you asked him tolook after her. He is the sweetest thing to her--just like old Mrs. Redhere, spreads his wings and fusses if any man who isn't a lineal descendantof Sir Galahad comes near her. He's going to be awfully hurt if you don'tcome. "

"Then I'll tear myself away from my family and come, though I truly can'tsee that I wished Polly Corn-tassel upon all of you. You are just as crazyabout the apple-blossom darling as I am, you specially, Bess Rutherford, "I answered, with pleased indignation. 

"Ann, I do wish you could have seen her in that frilled white thing withthe two huge blue bows at the ends of the long plaits at my dinner-dancethe other night, standing and looking at everybody with all the fascinationand coquetry of--of--well, that little Golden Bird peeping at us from theleft-hand corner of Mrs. Red Ally's right wing. Where _did_ she get thatfrock?"

"Do you suppose that a woman who runs a farm dairy of fifty cows, while herhusband banks and post-offices and groceries would be at all routed by afew yards of lace and muslin and a current copy of 'The Woman's Review'?Aunt Mary made that dress between sun-up and -down and worked out fiftypounds of butter as well, " I answered, with a glow of class pride in myrustic breast. 

"All of that is what is seething in my blood until I can't stand it, " saidBess as we walked towards the barn-door. "The reason I just feel likedevouring Polly Corn-tassel is that somehow she seems to taste like breadand butter to me; I'm tired of life served with mayonnaise dressing withtabasco and caviar in it. 

"Yes, a Romney herb-pot is better, " I said, as a strange chant began toplay itself on my heartstrings with me alone for a breathless audience. 

"And if you come in on Saturday you can--" Bess was saying in a positivetone that admitted of no retreat, when Matthew's huge blue car came aroundthe drive from the front of Elmnest and stopped by Bess's roadster. On thefront seat sat Matthew, and Corn-tassel was beside him, but the rest of thecar was piled high with huge sacks of grain, which looked extremelysensible and out of place in the handsomest car in the Harpeth Valley. 

"Oh, Miss Ann, Mr. Matthew and I found the greatest bargain in winterwheat, and the man opened every sack and let me run my arm to the elbow init. It is all hard and not short in a single grain. We are going to tradeyou half. " And Polly's blue eyes, which still looked like theuncommercialized violet despite a six weeks' acquaintance with society inHayesville, danced with true farmer delight. 

"It's warranted to make 'em lay in night shifts, Ann, " said Matthew as hebeamed down upon me with a delight equal to Polly's, and somehow equally asyoung. "Where'll I put it? In the feed-room in the bins?"

"Yes, and they are almost empty. I was wondering what I would do next forfood, because I owe Rufus and the hogs so much, " I answered gratefully. 

"What did you pay?" asked Bess, in a business-like tone of voice. 

"Only a dollar and a quarter a bushel, all seed grade, " answered Matthew, with the greatest nonchalance, as if he had known the grades of wheat fromhis earliest infancy. 

"Why, Owen bought two bags of it for our joint family and paid such afortune for it that I forgot the figures immediately; but I took up therug and put it all in my dressing-room to watch over, lest thieves breakinto the garage and steal. Also I made him send me plebeian carnationsinstead of violets for Belle Proctor's dinner Tuesday, " said Bess, withcovetousness in her eyes as she watched Matthew begin to unload his wheat. I wonder what Matthew's man, Hickson, at one twenty-five a month, thoughtof his master's coat when he began to brush the chaff out of its Londonnap. 

"Oh, Owen Murray is just a town-bred duffer, " said Matthew, as heshouldered his last sack of grain. 

"Well, you are vastly mistaken if you think that--" Bess was beginning tosay in a manner that I knew from long experience would bring on a war ofwords between her and Matthew when a large and cheerful interruption in theshape and person of Aunt Mary Corn-tassel came around the corner of thehouse. 

"Well, well, what sort of city farming is going on to-day amongst allthese stylish folks?" she asked as she skirted the two cars at what sheconsidered a safe and respectful distance, and handed me a bunch of sweetclover-pinks with a spring perfume that made me think of the breath of PanO'Woods as I buried my lips in them. "You, Polly, go right home and takeoff that linen dress, get into a gingham apron, and begin to help Bud milk. I believe in gavots at parties only if they strengthen muscles for milkingtime. "

"May I wait and ride down with Mr. Matthew and show him where to put ourwheat, Mother?" asked Polly as she snuggled up to her mother, who waspinning a stray pink into Matthew's button-hole per his request. 

"Yes, if he'll put his legs under old Mrs. Butter to help you get donebefore I am ready to strain up, " answered Aunt Mary, with a merry twinklein her eye as she regarded Matthew in his purple and fine linen. "Put anapron on him, " she added. 

"Lead me to the apron, " said Matthew, with real and not mock heroics. 

"But before you go I want to tell all of you about an invitation that hascome over the telephone in the bank to all of Riverfield, and make aconsultation about it. Now who do you suppose gave it?"

"Who?" we all asked in chorus. 

"Nobody less than the governor of the State called up Silas, me answeringfor him on account of his deafness, and asked everybody to come in to townnext Saturday night to hear this new commissioner of agriculture that he isgoing to appoint make the opening address of his office, I reckon you couldcall it. You know Silas is the leading Democrat of this district, and thegovernor has opened riz biscuits with me many a time. I told him 'Thankyou, sir, ' we would all come and hear the young man talk about what hedidn't know, and he laughed and rang off. Yes, we are all going in a kindof caravan of vehicles, and I want you to go, Nancy, in the family coachand take Mrs. Tillett with you on account of her having to take all theseven little Tilletts, because there won't be a minder woman left to lookafter 'em. Bud will drive so as not to disturb Cradd or William in theirHeathen pursuits or discommode Rufus' disposition. Now, won't it be nicefor the whole town to go junketing in like that?" As she spoke Aunt Marybeamed upon us all with pure delight. 

"But Saturday evening is the night that Mr. Matthew is going to have thatdance for me, Mother, " said Polly, with the violets becoming slightlysprinkled underneath the long black lashes. 

"Well, dancing can wait a spell, " answered Aunt Mary, comfortably. "Thegovernor said that all the folks at Cloverbend and Providence and Hillsboroare going, and Riverfield has got to shake out a forefoot in the trip andnot a hind one. "

"Oh, we'll have the dance next week, Corn-tassel, " promised Matthew, promptly enough to prevent the drenching of the violets. "It will be greatto hear Baldwin accept his portfolio, as it were. "

"And after his term begins I suppose he'll have offices at the capitol andwill be in town most of the time. Then we can have him at all the dances. Polly, he dances like nothing earthly. Still Matthew won't let him comenear you; he's deadly to women. We are all positively drugged by him, "exclaimed Bess, delighted at the idea of Hayesville society acquiring thenew commissioner of agriculture for a permanent light. 

"Then I can count on you to help Mrs. Tillett and the children in and out, Nancy?" continued Aunt Mary, with the light of such generalship in her eyethat I was afraid even to mention my one-sided feud with the hero of thehour. "You can take Baby Tillett and sit a little way apart from her so shewon't have to feed him all the time to keep him quiet. "

"I can take eight people in my car, Mother Corn-tassel, " said Matthew, with the most beautiful eagerness. 

"I can get in five, " added Bess, with an equal eagerness. "Can I have theAddcocks?" Bess and the pessimistic Mrs. Addcock had got together over somemedicine to prevent pip in the conservatory young Leghorns. 

"Yes, and Matthew can take all the eight Spains if I can sit down Mrs. Spain to a bolt of gingham in time to get them all nicely covered for sucha company, " decreed the general, as she ran over in her mind's eye the restof the population of Riverfield. "I'll make all the men hitch their bestteams to the different rigs, and by starting early and taking both dinnerand supper on the way we can get there in plenty of time. Twenty miles isnot more than a half day's trip. "

"I can sit by you and hold two Spains in my lap, " I heard Polly plan withMatthew. 

"Sure you can, " he answered her. "I think the loveliest thing aboutMatthew Berry is the way he speaks to women and children. " As he answered, he piled Aunt Mary and Polly in beside the rest of the wheat-bags andmotored them away down the avenue. 

"Ann, please come to town with me, " pleaded Bess as she got into her carand prepared to follow in the wake of the wheat-bags. "I miss you so, andBelle weeps at the mention of you. She and I are having dinner at the OldHickory Club with Houston Jeffries and Owen to-night. Matt will come, andlet's have one good old time. I came all this way to get you. "

"I honestly, honestly can't, Bess, " I said as I took her hand stretcheddown from her seat behind the wheel to me, and put my cheek against it. "I've got this whole farm to feed between now and night. Both incubatorsmust have their supper of oil or _you_ know what'll happen. Mrs. Ewe andfamily must be fed, or rather she must be fed so as to pass it along atabout breakfast time, I should say, not being wise in biology or naturalhistory; the entire Bird family are invited to supper with me, and I evenhave to carry a repast of corn over the meadows to my pet abhorrences, Rufus' swine, because he has retired to the hay-loft with a flannel ragaround his head, which means I have offended him or that father has givenhim an extra absent-minded drink from the decanter that Matthew broughthim. Peckerwood Pup is at this moment, you see, chewing the strings out ofmy shoes as an appetizer for her supper. How could I eat sweetbreads andtruffle, which I know Owen has already ordered, when I knew that more thana hundred small children were at home crying for bread?"

"Ann, what is it that makes you so perfectly radiantly beautiful in thatfaded linen smock and old corduroy skirt? Of course, you always werebeautiful, but now you look like--like--well, I don't know whether it is asong I have heard or a picture I have seen. " Bess leaned down and laid hercheek against mine for a second. 

"I'm going to tell you some day before long, " I whispered as I kissed thecorner of her lips. "Now do take the twin fathers for a little spin up theroad and make them walk back from the gate. They have been suffering withthe Trojan warriors all day, and I know they must have exercise. UncleCradd walks down for the mail each day, but father remains stationary. Yourmethod with them is perfect. Go take them while I supper and bed down thefarm. "

"I know now the picture is by Tintoretto, and it's some place in Rome, "Bess called back over her shoulder as she drove her car slowly around tothe front door to begin her conquest and deportation of my preciousancients. 

"Not painted by Tintoretto, but by the pagan Pan, " I said to myself as Iturned into the barn door. 

CHAPTER IX

When I came out with a bucket of the new wheat in my hand, I heard Bess andher car departing, with Uncle Cradd's sonorous speech mingling with thepuff of the engine. 

"We are all alone, Mr. G. Bird, and we love it, because then we can talkcomfortably about our Mr. Adam, " I said to the Golden Bird as he followedme around the side of the barn where a door had been cut by Pan himself tomake an entry into my improvised chicken-house. 

Suddenly I was answered by a very interesting chuckling and clucking, and Iturned to see what had disengaged the attention of Mr. G. Bird from me andmy feed-bucket. The sight that met my eyes lifted the shadow that had lainbetween the Golden Bird and me since the morning I had taken him in to seehis newly arrived progeny and had not been able to make him notice theirexistence. Stretching out behind me was a trail of wheat that had drippedfrom a hole in the side of the bucket, and along the sides of it thepaternal Bird was marshaling his reliable foster-mother, Mrs. Red Ally'sand all his own fluffy white progeny. With exceeding generosity he was noteating a grain himself, but scratching and chortling encouragingly. 

"I knew you were not like other chicken men, Mr. G. Bird, 'male indifferentto hatches, ' as the book said, " I exclaimed as he caught up with me andbegan to peck the grains I offered from my hand. "You are just like Owenand Matthew and Mr. Tillett and--and--" but I didn't continue theconversation because the chant began rending my heartstrings again. "Oh, Mr. G. Bird, it is an awful thing for a woman to have an apple orchard andlilac bushes in bloom when she is alone, " I sighed instead, as I went onto my round of feeding, very hungry myself for--a pot of herbs. Later I, too, was fed. 

Long after the twin fathers had had supper and were settled safely by theircandles, which were beacons that led them back into past ages, I sat bymyself on the front doorstep in the perfumed darkness that was only faintlylit by stars that seemed so near the earth that they were like flowers oflight blossoming on the twigs of the roof elms. In a lovely dream I hadjust gone into the arms of Pan when I heard out beyond the orchard a softmoo of a cow, and with it came a weak little calf echo. 

"Somebody's cow has strayed--I wish she belonged to me and could help mewith this nutrition job, " I said to myself as I rose and ran down under thebranches of the gnarled old apple-trees, which sifted down perfumed blowupon my head as I ran. Then I stopped and listened again. Over the oldstone wall that separated the orchard from the pasture I heard footstepsand soft panting, also a weak little cow-baby protest of fatigue. 

"I'll get over the wall and see if there is any trouble with them, " I saidand I suited my actions to my words. I suppose in the dark I forgot thatcows have horns and that I had never even been introduced to one before, for with the greatest confidence and sympathy I walked up near the largeblack mass that was the cow mother, with a very small and wavering bodypressed close at her side. 

"Did you call me, Mother Cow?" I asked softly. 

The question was taken from my lips as Pan came out of the darkness behindher and took me into his arms. 

"Yes, she called you. I didn't think I'd see you. I was just going to leaveher for you and go my way; but trust women for secret communication, " hesaid as my arm slipped around his bare throat. 

"Not see me?" I questioned. 

"I never wanted to see you again until I came for you, Woman. I didn'tthink I could stand it--to put you out of my arms again. I can't take youwith me to-night. I came miles out of my way to bring her to you, and I'vehurried them both cruelly. The calf is only two days old, but you do needher badly to feed the chickens. Milk-fed chickens show a gain of thirty percent. Over others. You can churn and get all the butter you need and feedthem the buttermilk. "

"Do you suppose I can learn to milk and churn her?" I asked as I shrank abit closer in his arms from this new responsibility. 

"Milk her and churn the milk, " laughed Pan as he bent my head forward onhis arm, set his teeth in the back of my neck, and shook me like PeckerwoodPup shakes the gray kitten when I'm not looking. 

"Will you show me in the morning?"

"Woman, I have to run ten miles through the forest before daybreak, and Idon't know when I can come back to you. I know I ought to tell you things, but I--I just can't. I demand of life that I be allowed to come for you andtake you into the woods with only your Romney bundle. Will you be hereready for me when I come, and keep the bundle tied up?"

"Yes, " I answered as I drew his head down and pressed it to my breast, hoping that he might hear the chant on my heartstrings. I think he didhear. 

 "I am thy child. I am thy mate. Come!"

he made response, as he slipped from my arms and away into the darkness, leaving me alone with only the mother now for company. She licked my armwith a warm, rough tongue, and I came back into my own body and led her tothe barn and supper. 

There are two kinds of love, the cultivated kind that bores into a woman'sheart through silk and laces in a hot-house atmosphere and brings aboutall kinds of enervating reactions until operated upon by marriage; theother kind a field woman breathes into her lungs and it gets into hercirculation and starts up the most awful and productive activity. I've hadboth kinds. I moped for months over Gale Beacon, and made him and Matthewand father completely unhappy, lost ten pounds, and was sent to a rest-curefor temper. The next morning after Adam gave me the cow and calf andpassionate embraces out in the orchard I began to work like six women, andwhat I did to Elmnest not ten women could have accomplished in as manydays. 

I weeded the whole garden and I picked three bushels of our first peas, tied up sixty bunches of very young beets with long, tough orchard grass, treated fifty bunches of slender onions the same way, half a dozen of eachto the bunch, and helped Bud Corn-tassel load a two-horse wagon with themand everything eatable he could get out of Aunt Mary's garden. Then I gotup at two o'clock in the night and fed the mules so Bud could start athalf-past two in order to be in the market at Hayesville long before thebreak of day, so as to sell the truck at the very top of the market to theearliest greengrocers. I gave Bud coffee and bread and butter and drove theteam down to the gate while he went ahead to open it. I stood up while Idrove, too, because Bud had not had room to put a seat in for himself andexpected to stand up all the way to town. Talk about Mordkin and Pavlova!To stand up and drive a team hitched to a jolt-wagon over boulders androots requires leg muscles! I hope I will be able to restrain myself fromdriving the team into market some day, but I am not sure I can. With theeggs and the "truck" Bud brought back sixteen dollars, eleven of which weremine. I bought a peck of green peas for myself from myself and ate most ofthem for dinner by way of blowing in some of the money. Then the chant onmy heartstrings speeded me up to white-washing all the chickenparaphernalia on the place, and I dropped corn behind Rufus' plow for awhole day, even if it was to produce food for the swine. I went to bed atnight literally on time with the chickens. I could only stay awake to kneeland reach out the arms of prayer and enfold Pan to my heart for a very fewseconds before I vaulted into the four-poster and tumbled into the depthsof sleep. 

My activities were not in any way limited by the stone walls that surroundElmnest, but they spread over entire Riverfield, which had very nearly quitthe pursuit of agriculture and gone madly into a social adventure. Everybody was getting ready for the trip into the capital city to answerthe governor's invitation, and clothing of every color, texture, and sexwas being manufactured by the bolt. For every garment manufactured I wassponsor. 

"I sure am glad you have come down, Nancy, " said Mrs. Addcock, with almosta moan; "that Mamie there won't let me turn up the hem of her dress withoutyou, though I say what is a hem to a woman who has set in six pairs ofsleeves since day before yesterday!"

"I want shoe-tops and Ma wants ankles, " sniffed Mamie Addcock. "PollyBeesley wears shoe-tops and she's seventeen and goes to the city to dance. And Miss Bess' and yours are shoe-tops, too. "

"Now you see what it is to raise a child to be led into sin and vanity, "said Mrs. Addcock, looking at me reproachfully from her seat upon the floorat the feet of the worldly Mamie. 

"I'll turn up the hem just right, Mrs. Addcock, while you get the collarson little Sammie's and Willie's shirts, " I said soothingly as I sank downbeside her at Mamie's feet. 

"I had to cut Sammie's shirt with a tail to tuck in, all on account of thatMr. Matthew Berry's telling him that shirt and pants ought to do businesstogether. And there's Willie's jeans pants got to have pockets for theknife that Mr. Owen gave him. I just can't keep up with these city notionsof my children with five of 'em and a weak back. " As she grumbled Mrs. Addcock rose slowly from her lowly position to her feet. 

"I'll make Willie's trousers, Mrs. Addcock, this afternoon, if he'll comeand help me feed and bed everything at Elmnest, " I offered, with my mouthfull of pins. 

"No, child, but thank you for your willing heart. Mrs. Spain told me howyou made Ezra's pants so one leg of him came while the other went, and Iguess a mother is the only one to get the legs of her own offspring tomatch. I'll work it out myself now that Miss Mamie is attended to. "

"But now I know how to trouser boys normally. I turned Joe Tillett out inperfect proportion as well as in strong jeans, " I answered, without theleast offense at finding my first efforts as a tailor thus becoming thesubject of kindly village gossip. 

"Well, I hope this junket will turn out as Mary Beesley expects, withenjoyment for everybody. However, I'm going to risk my back with Mr. Silas' mules rather than with that Bessie Rutherford's wheels that are notcritter-drawn. I only hope she don't spill all my children, that I've hadsuch a time getting here on earth, back into Kingdom Come. "

"Would you rather go in my carriage with Mrs. Tillett, and let me go withBess to hold in the children?" I asked with unconcealed eagerness. 

"No, I don't believe so, " answered Mrs. Addcock, cannily. "Sallie Tillettis having her dress made buttoned up in the back, and she has been in thehabit of feeding the baby whenever he cries for it, though he can 'moststand alone. She is going to depend on you and a bag of biscuit to managehim through the show, and I'd rather not take your place. "

"No; perhaps you would enjoy it more behind Uncle Silas and the mules, " Ianswered cheerily, feeling perfectly capable of handling Baby Tillett andhis bag of biscuits, because the memory of the times his little head withits tow fuzz had cuddled down on my linen smock, when I had carried himback and forth for long visits in the barn to the Peckerwood Pup so hismother could have a little vacation from his society, accelerated themovement of the chant on the cardiac instrument in my breast. "He stayshours and hours with me in a basket in the barn and is perfectly satisfiedwith the biscuits. "

"All the same I told Sallie I could make that dress by another pattern, andyou'd better sit with him a good distance during the show, " said Mrs. Addcock, as I finished shoe-topping Mamie and picked up my pink-lined whitesunbonnet, which had been a present from Mrs. Addcock herself and wasastonishingly frilly and coquettish emanating from such a source, and beganto depart. 

"I'll take him on the other side of the auditorium, " I answered, withrespect for advice that I knew must be good through experience. 

And thus that pink and white, cooing, obstreperously hungry baby was madean instrument of cruel fate and--

"Come over and see the little cap I've made Bennie so as to do you honor, "called rosy Mrs. Tillett as I went down the street towards the grocery. 

"I ain't got but six more yards of gingham to sew up for the two littlest, "Mrs. Spain called cheerily as she looked past a whirring sewing-machine outthrough a window that was wreathed with a cinnamon rose-vine in full bloom. 

"Want any help?" I called from the gate, which was flanked on both sides byblooming lilacs. 

"No; you go on down to the store. Mr. Silas have brought out ten suits ofclothes for the men to pick from, and they are a-waiting for your taste. Persuade Joe Spain to get that purple mixed. I do love gay colors, andit'll go with my pink foulard. "

The scenes into which I entered in the post-office-bank-grocery was comedyin form, but serious in interpretation. The counter was piled high withmen's garments of every color that is bestowed upon woolen cloth in thedyers' vats. Uncle Silas stood behind it with his glasses at a rampantangle on his nose, and Aunt Mary stood in the center of a shuffling, embarrassed, harassed group of farmers in overalls. Before her stood Bud, attired in a light gray suit of aggressively new clothes, and she was usinghim hard as a dummy upon which to illustrate her vigorous and persuasiveremarks. 

"Now, I am glad you have come down, honeybunch, " she exclaimed at sight ofme. "Here's a bale of clothes and a bale of men, and nobody can seem tomatch 'em up suitable. I have at last got Bud Beesley here into a deadmatch for his beauty, if I do say it of my own son. Just look at him!" Asshe spoke she stood off from him and folded her plump hands across her widewaist in motherly rapture. 

And Bud, with his violet eyes and yellow shock, _was_ beautiful in the"custom-made, " fifteen-dollar gray cheviot, despite his red ears. All theHarpeth Valley farmer folk have French Cavalier, English gentle, and Irishgood blood in them, with mighty little else and, as in the case of Bud andPolly Corn-tassel, when clothed in garments of the world, it comes to thesurface with startling effect. Bud could have put on a gray slouch hat witheither a crimson or an orange band and walked into any good Eastern collegefraternity or club he might have chosen. 

"Shoo, Mother, " said Bud as he turned around for my admiration, notsurfeited with that of his mother. 

"I only hope some town girl won't catch him like your mother did William, "said Aunt Mary, with a laugh that ended in a little sigh that only I heard. Somehow I _will_ feel psychically akin to Bud and Polly. 

[Illustration: And Bud was beautiful in the "custom-made" fifteen-dollargray cheviot with his violet eyes and yellow smock, in spite of his redears]

"Town girls are all movie-struck and don't want a man if a butter-paddlegoes along with him, " said Bud, with a laugh that was echoed from theoveralled group. 

"Yes, but Miss Nancy here has outsold any woman in Riverfield for cash oneggs and chickens before May first, " said Mr. Spain as he picked up a graypurple coat from the top of the pile on the counter. 

"She'll marry and go away in a big car, too, " said Bud, as he looked downand flecked an imaginary speck from the sleeve of his new coat. Somethingin his voice made me determine to introduce Belle Proctor's littlesixteen-year-old sister to Bud in the near future. The kiddie spends halfher time away from school in Bess's conservatory with Mr. G. Bird'snon-resident family, and I think it will do her good to come out in thefield and play with Bud. She is frail and too slight. 

"Say, Miss Nancy, what do you think of this here purple to set me off?"asked Mr. Spain, as he held up the garment of his wife's desire. "Bettysays it'll match out her dimity, and I 'low to match Betty as long as Ican. "

"It'll be the very thing, Mr. Spain, " I said, as I controlled my horror atthe flaring-colored coat and reminded myself that harmony of domesticrelations is greater than any harmony of art. 

"Now, pick your coats and slip 'em on, all of you, so Nancy can judge you, "commanded the general. In a very short time each man had got out of hisoverall jumper and into his heart's desire. 

A stalwart, comely, clean-eyed group of American men they were as theystood on parade, clothed for the most part in seemly raiment, chosen withUncle Silas's quiet taste, except in the case of Mr. Spain, where he hadlet his experience of the past lead his taste. 

"Please, dear God, don't let them ever have to be put into khaki, " I prayedwith a quick breath, for I knew, though they did not seem to recognize thefact, that this rally of the rural districts in the city hall was a partof the great program of preparedness that America was having forced uponher. I knew that the speech of the governor would be about the Statemilitia and I knew that Evan Baldwin would talk to them about themobilization of their stocks and crops. Quick tears flooded across my eyes, and I stretched out my hands to them. 

"You all look good to me, " I faltered in some of Matthew's language, because I couldn't think of anything else to say but the prayer in myheart, and I didn't want to repeat that to them. 

"Now, you have all passed your city examinations, so you can get back towork. Remember, that day after to-morrow is the junket, and one day won'tbe any too much to bank up your fires to run until you come back, " saidAunt Mary in the way of dismissal. 

"Talk about vanity in women folks? The first peacock hatched out was of themale persuasion, " she remarked as we stood at the emporium door and watchedthe men dispersing, their bundles under their arms, each one making directfor his own front door. "Every woman in Riverfield will have to put downneedle and fry-pan and butter-paddle to feed them so plum full ofcompliments that they'll strut for a week. Bless my heart, honeybunch, wehave all got to turn around twice in each track to get ready, and as I'mpretty hefty I must begin right now. " With this remark, Aunt Mary departedfrom the back door to her house on the hill and sent me out the front toElmnest opposite. 

"I thought that there was some reason why Pan and I both chose to wearRoycroft clothes. Mr. And Mrs. Spain are in love after eight children, " Iremarked to myself happily. "I am in agony in any shoes Pan doesn't make. Iwonder if any woman ever before was as much in love with a man about whomshe knew so little--and so much as I do about Adam. "

"I don't want to know about him--I want to love him, " I answered myself asI walked up the long elm avenue. Afterwards I recalled those words tomyself, and they were bitter instead of sweet. 

CHAPTER X

Friday, the twenty-first of April, I shall always remember as the busiestday of my life, for, as Aunt Mary had said, it takes time to bank firesenough to keep a farm alive a whole half day even if it is not running. Idid all my usual work with my small folk, and then I measured and pouredout in different receptacles their existence for the last half of the nextday. After breakfast on Saturday I finally decided upon Uncle Cradd as themost trustworthy person of the three ancients, one of whom I was obliged todepend upon for substitution. Rufus, I felt sure, would compromise byfeeding every ration to the hogs, and I knew that he could persuade fatherto do likewise, but Uncle Cradd, I felt, would bring moral force to bearupon the situation. 

"Now, Uncle Cradd, here are all the different feeds in different buckets, each plainly marked with the time to give it. Please, oh, please, don't letfather lead you off into Egypt or China and forget them, " I said as I ledhim to the barn and showed him the mobilization of buckets that I had shutup in one of the empty bins. 

"Why not just empty it all out on the ground in front of the barn, Nancy, my dear, and let them all feed together in friendly fashion. I am afraidyou take these pretty whims of yours too seriously, " he said as he beamedaffectionately at me over his large glasses. 

"Because Peckerwood Pup would eat up the Leghorn babies, and it would beextermination to some and survival to the most unfit, " I answered indespair. "Oh, won't you please do it by the directions?"

"I will, my child, I will, " answered Uncle Cradd, as he saw that I wasabout to become tearful. "I will come and sit right here in the barn withmy book. "

"Oh, if you only will, Uncle Cradd, they will remind you when they arehungry. Mr. G. Bird will come and peck at you when it is time to feed hisfamily, and the lambs and Mrs. Ewe will lick you, and Peckerwood Pup willchew you, so you can't forget them, " I exclaimed in relief. 

"That will be the exact plan for action, Nancy. You can always depend uponme for any of the small attentions that please you, my dear. "

"I can depend on the fur and feathers and wool tribes better than I can onyou, old dear, " I said to myself, while I beamed on him with a dutiful, "Thank you, sir. "

Then as Bud Corn-tassel had arrived to begin to hitch up the moth-eatensteeds to the ark, I ascended to my room to shed my farmer smocks, for thefirst time since my incarnation into them, and attire myself for the worldagain. The only garb of fashion I possessed, having sold myself outcompletely on my retirement, was the very stylish, dull-blue tailor suit inwhich I had traveled out the Riverfield ribbon almost three months before. But as that had been mid-February, it was of spring manufacture, and Isupposed would still be able to hold its own. 

"It's perfectly beautiful, but it feels tight and hampering, " I said as Idescended to enter the coach Bud had driven around to the front door. 

"Will you give me a guarantee that you aren't just a dream lady I'll loseagain in the city, Miss Nancy?" asked Bud, as he handed me into theGrandmother Craddock coach with great ceremony. Gale Beacon couldn't havedone any better on such short notice. 

"I'll be in smocks at feeding-time in the morning, Bud, just as you will bein overalls, " I answered laughingly. 

"My, but you are a sight!" said Mrs. Tillett, as she handed up Baby Tillettto me, with such a beaming countenance that I knew she meant acomplimentary construction to be placed upon her words. "Now, just take upthem little girls and set 'em down easy, Mr. Bud, on account of theirruffles, and ram the boys in between to hold 'em steady. Now, boys, if youmuss up the girls I'll make every one of you wear your shoes all dayto-morrow to teach you manners. Go on, Mr. Bud. "

Thus nicely packed away, we started on down the Riverfield ribbon at thehead of the procession, followed by Uncle Silas driving Aunt Mary'srockaway, with his beautiful, dappled, shining, gray mules hitched to it, and beside him sat Mrs. Addcock in serene confidence in being driven by aman who could drive a bank and a post-office and a grocery. Mamie andGertie Spain were spread out carefully on the back seat, with only onesmall masculine Spain for a wedge. The Buford buggy, all spick and spanfrom its first spring washing and polishing, came next, with Mr. And Mrs. Buford cuddling together on the narrow seat. They were a bride and groom ofvery little over a year's standing, and the blue-blanketed bundle that thebride carried in her arms was no reason, in Mr. Buford's mind, why heshouldn't drive with one hand while he held a steadying and affectionatearm around them both. Buford Junior was less than a month old, but whyshouldn't he begin to adventure out in the big world? Parson and Mrs. Henderson came next, he with snow-white flowing beard, and she, beside him, in a gray bonnet with a pink rose, while beside her sat his mother, GrannyHenderson, now past eighty, but with a purple pansy nestled in herwaterwaves. 

Others followed, and the remainder waited on the steps of the emporium, with Aunt Mary and Polly, for Matthew and Bess to come for them. It washard for them to realize that the powerful engines in both cars would takethem into town in little over an hour, when the journey as they before hadmade it had always consumed six, and they were becoming impatient evenbefore we left. So when we met Bess and Matthew half an hour later down theRiverfield ribbon, I hurried them back. I afterwards learned that they hadhad to persuade Mrs. Spain to reclothe herself in the pink foulard, becauseshe had decided that they were not coming and had gone back to work. 

In reality I didn't draw a perfectly free breath until I saw the entirepopulation of Riverfield seated in advantageous seats on the middle aislein the town hall at six-thirty, and beginning to get out theirlunch-baskets to feed themselves and the kiddies before the opening of theconvocation at eight o'clock. 

According to the advice of Mrs. Addcock and Mrs. Tillett herself, I hadtaken a stuffed egg, a chicken wing, and a slice of jelly-cake for my ownsupper, along with Baby Tillett's bag of hard biscuits, over on a sideaisle, and from that vantage-point I could see the whole party. 

"They are lovely--the loveliest of all, mine are, " I said to myself as Isurveyed them proudly and compared them with other lunching delegations, which I knew to be from Providence and Hillsboro and Cloverbend. 

Baby Tillett crowed a proud assent as he stuck a biscuit in his mouth andlooked at the lights with the greatest pleasure. I took off his new capwith its two blue bows over the ears, unbuttoned his little piqué coat, which I had almost entirely built myself, and which was of excellent cut, and settled down to dine with him in contentment. 

Then it happened that I was so weary from the day of excitement that I hadhardly finished my supper before I snuggled Baby Tillett closer in my arms, as I felt him grow limp very suddenly, and with him I drifted off into anap. I was sitting in a corner seat, but I don't yet see how I slept as Idid and cuddled him too unless it was just the force of natural maternalgravitation that held my arms firmly around him, but the first thing I knewI opened my eyes on the whole hall full of people, who were wildlyapplauding the governor as he stepped forward on the platform. Hurriedlystraightening my drooping head and looking guiltily around to see if I hadbeen caught napping, I discovered Matthew Berry at my side in a broadchuckle, and I immediately suspected his stalwart right arm of being thatforce of gravitation. 

"He's dead to the world; let him lie across your knees and listen to thegovernor's heroics of introduction to Baldwin, " said Matthew as he settledthe limp baby across my lap with his bobbing head on my arm. And headjusted his own arm less conspicuously along the seat at my back. 

"I was up at four, " I whispered, as the applause died away and the governorbegan to speak. 

The Governor of the State of Harpeth is a good and substantial man, who washimself born out on Paradise Ridge, and he had called in all of his peoplefrom their fields to talk to them about a problem so serious that theworld of men, who had hitherto considered themselves as competent to guidethe great national ship of state through peaceful waters, had been impelledto turn and call to council the men from the plows and reapers, to addtheir wisdom in deciding the best methods of safeguarding the nation. Hisspeech was a thoughtful presentation of the different methods ofpreparedness which the whole of America was weighing in the balance. Heexplained the army policy, the Congressional policy, and then that of theState guard, and he asked them to weigh the facts well so that if it shouldcome to the vote of the people of the nation, they would vote withinstructed wisdom. 

There was a strained gravity on all the listening faces, and I could seesome of the women in the groups of farmer folk draw nearer against theshoulders of the men, who all sat with their arms along the back of theseats as Matthew sat beside me. Young Mrs. Buford held the precious, limp, blue bundle much closer in her arms, and hid her head on the broadshoulder next her own, but on Mrs. Spain's comely face I saw a lightbeginning to dawn as she proudly surveyed the four sturdy sons with shiningfaces who flanked her and Mr. Spain. 

"And now, " said the governor, "I have asked you here to-night to introduceformally to you one of the great sons of Old Harpeth, who has come backfrom the world, with his wealth and honors and wisdom and science, into hisown valley, to show us how to make the plowshare support the machine-gunwith such power that the world will respect its silence more than anyexplosion. A year or more ago he came home and asked me for his commission, and since then he has lived among you so as to become your friend, in hopesthat he might be your chosen leader in this food mobilization. Gentlemenand ladies of the Harpeth Valley, I present to you Mr. Evan Baldwin, whowill speak to you to-night on the 'Plowshare and the Machine-gun. ' Friends, Evan Adam Baldwin. "

For a second there was expectant silence, and then from the back of theplatform from behind a group of State officials stepped--my Pan!

For a long second the whole hall full of people held their breath in atense uncertainty, because it was hard to believe in the broadcloth andfine linen in which he was clothed, but the brilliant hair, the rufflingcrests, and the mocking, eery smile made them all certain by the secondbreath, which they gave forth in one long masculine hurrah mingled with afeminine echo of delight. For several long minutes it would not be stilledas he stood and smiled down on them all and mocked them with his laughmingling with theirs. 

Finally Aunt Mary, the general, could stand it no longer, and forgetful ofher Saint Paul, she arose with all the dignity of her two hundred poundsand raised her hand. 

"All be still, neighbors, and let Adam tell us the same things he's beensaying for these many months, and then we'll let him shuck his fineclothes and come on home in my rockaway with us. "

"No, with us!" fairly yelled Cloverbend in unison of protest withProvidence. 

"Thank you, Aunt Mary, " said Pan in the fluty tenderness with which he hadalways addressed her. "The governor doesn't know it, but I can't make aspeech to you to-night. I am going to catch that ten o'clock train forArgentina, to get some wheat secrets for all of us, and I want all of youto begin right away to plow good and deep so you'll be ready for me when Iget back in a few months. We'll have to inoculate the land before we sow. Only here are just one or two things I will say to you before I have tostart. "

For about ten minutes Adam stood there before those farmer folk and, withhis fluty voice and the fire glow in his eyes, led them up upon a highmountain of imagination and showed them the distant land into which hecould lead them, which, when they arrived, they would find to be their own. 

The baby on my lap stirred, and I lifted him against my throbbing breastas I listened to this gospel of a new earth, which might be made into theoutposts of a new Heaven, in which man would nourish his weaker brotherinto a strength equal to his own, so that no man or nation would have tofight for existence or a place in the sun. Then while we all sat breathlessfrom his magic, Pan vanished and left us to be sent home rejoicing by thegovernor. 

Sent home rejoicing? Suddenly I realized that when Evan Adam Baldwin hadgone, my Pan had also vanished without a word to me. What did it mean? Hiseyes hadn't found me sitting apart from my delegation with another woman'sbaby in my arms. Would there be a word for me in the morning?

"In Baldwin emerges the new American, " said Matthew, with a light in hisface I had never seen before, as we all rose to go. 

"Do you blame every woman in the world for being mad about him when you sawthat look in his eyes when he held out his hands and chanted that foodplea to us? I'm glad he doesn't beckon to me, or I am afraid Owen Murrayand Madam Felicia would be disappointed about that June decision of mine, "said Bess as she and Owen helped Bud pack the Tilletts and me into the arkfor our return trip. 

"Will there be word for me in the morning?" the old wheels rattled all theway out the Riverfield ribbon, and I thought an old owl hooted the questionat me from a dead tree beside the road, while I felt also that amocking-bird sang it from a thicket of dogwood in ghostly bloom opposite. "Will there be word in the morning?"

The next morning I awoke with the same question making a new motive in thechant on my heartstrings. 

"Uncle Cradd will bring his letter when he comes back from the post-office, and I know he'll send a message to you, Mr. G. Bird, " I said happily, as Iwatered and fed and caressed and joyed in the entire barn family. "I hatehim for being what he is and treating me this way, but I love him stillmore, " I confided to Mrs. Ewe as I gave her an extra handful of wheat outof the blouse-pocket which I kept filled for Mr. G. Bird from purepartiality. 

Uncle Cradd did not bring a letter from the post-office for me. The blow inthe apple orchard and the purple plumes on the lilac bushes looked lessbrilliant in hue, but the tune on my heartstrings kept up a note of purebravado. I weeded the garden all afternoon, but stopped early, fed early, and went up-stairs to my room before the last sunset glow had faded off thedormer windows. Opening my old mahogany chest, I took out a bundle I hadmade up the day after the advent of Mother Cow and the calf, spread it outon the bed, and looked it over. 

In it was an incredible amount of lingerie, made of crêpe de chine andlace, folded tightly and tied with a ribbon into a package not over a footsquare. A comb and a brush of old ivory, which had set in its back a smallmirror held in by a silver band, which father had purchased in Florencefor me under a museum guaranty as a genuine Cellini work of art, werewrapped in a silk case, and a toothbrush and soap had occupied theirrespective oil-silk cases along with a tube of tooth paste and one of coldcream. Two pairs of soft, but strong, tan cotton stockings were tuckedunderneath the ribbon confining the lingerie, and a small prayer-book withboth mine and my mother's name in it completed the--I hadn't exactly likedto call it a trousseau. It was all tied up in one of Adam's Romneyhandkerchiefs, which he had washed out one day in the spring branch andleft hanging on a hickory sapling to dry, and which I had appropriatedbecause I loved its riot of faded colors. 

"It is just about the size of his, " I had said to myself as I had tied upits corners that day after my love adventure in the orchard under thechaperonage of Mother Cow, and I had laughed as I imagined Pan's face whenhe discovered that I had been so entirely unfemininely subservient to hiscommand about light traveling. Suddenly I swept the bundle together andback in the chest, while a note of genuine fear swept into the song in myheart. 

"He'll write from New Orleans--he doesn't sail until to-morrow, " Iwhispered as I quieted the discord and went down to prayers. 

 "I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul:"

intoned Uncle Cradd, and somehow the tumult in my heart was stilled for thenight, and I could as usual take Pan into my prayer arms and ask God tokeep him safe. I wonder how many women would really pray if there weren'tmen in the world to furnish them the theme!

Also I wonder how it is possible for me to write about that following firstweek of May when I had to feel the chant die out of my heart and stilllive and help a lot of other live creatures, both people and animals, to goon breathing also. 

Each day Uncle Cradd failed to bring me a letter from the post-office, andafter a week I ceased to look for one. I knew that Evan Adam Baldwin was onthe high seas and that if he had not written before he sailed he neverintended to write. My common sense kindly and plainly spoke this truth tomy aching heart: Pan had been simply having a word adventure with me incharacter. 

CHAPTER XI

The beginning of the twentieth century has witnessed many startlinginventions, reforms, evolutions, and revolutions, but mankind generally isnot aware that the most remarkable result of many combined new forces is awoman whose intellect can go on functioning at the same time that her heartis aching with either requited or unrequited love. Just ten days after Ihad been jilted, instead of lying in a darkened room in hysterics, I wentinto a light corner of the barn, sat down on an upturned seed-bucket, tookmy farm-book on my knee, wet my pencil between my lips, and began to figureup the account between Evan Adam Baldwin and myself. First, I sat still fora long second and tried to set a price on myself the hour before I hadfirst encountered him out on the Riverfield ribbon on the day I had mademy entry into rural life. And think as hard as I could I couldn't think upa single thing I had done worth while to my race; so I had to write a greatcipher against myself. Then in another column I set down the word "assets, "and after it I wrote, "The Golden Bird and family, eight hundred dollars. "Then I thought intently back into the past and into the haircloth trunk andwrote, "Clothes, one hundred and fifty dollars. "

Then I sat for another long time and looked out the door to the ParadiseRidge across the Harpeth Valley, after which I smoothed the page, dated it, and again began to take stock of myself and the business. I listed theoriginal investment of Mr. G. Bird and the ladies Leghorn, one of which wasat that moment picking wheat from my pocket, on through their fiftyprogeny, for which I had established a price of twenty dollars per head, through the two lambkins I had bought from Rufus for ten dollars, MotherCow and the calf, the hundred and fifty pearls in the incubators, half ofwhich I had sold to Owen and Bess and ten of which I had sold to a realchicken dealer who knew Mr. G. Bird's pedigree and had come all the wayfrom Georgia to buy them. The whole inventory, including the wheat I hadpaid Matthew for and the improvements I had made on the barn, or ratherAdam had made, also including the prospects in the garden, amounted toeighteen hundred dollars. Then I thought still longer and finally after myown name wrote one hundred and fifty dollars' worth of "education. " Thetotal was nineteen hundred and fifty dollars, thus making a profit on myinvestments of about eight hundred dollars. After this calculation I satand chewed the pencil a long time, then turned a fresh page, wrote, "EvanAdam Baldwin, " on the one side, "Profit" in the middle, and a large cipheropposite. 

Then I closed the book forever with such decision that the Leghorn lady andMrs. Ewe, who was helping her explore me, both jumped, and I rose to myfeet. 

"I got eight hundred and fifty dollars out of the deal, and Evan AdamBaldwin only got a few mediocre and amateur kisses, which he shared withme, for all his hard labor in plowing and tilling and restoring Elmnest andme to the point of being of value in the scheme of things. I got the bestof that deal and why should I sulk?" I said to myself in a firm and eventone of voice. I didn't. 

If I had worked like a couple of women when speeded up by a weird chant onmy heartstrings, which I now recognized was just a part of the system usedin my reorganization, I worked like five when my heart became perfectlydead and silent. I got out of my bed the very minute that the first gleamof consciousness came into my mind, before I could have a second to thinkabout anything unprofitable, plunged into the old brass-bound cedar tub ofcold water, which I had carried up from the spring in a bucket that matchedit the night before, got into my corduroys and smock, and was out in thebarn and at work before it would seem possible for a woman to more thanopen her eyes of understanding upon the world. All day long I weeded andhoed and harvested and fed and cleaned and marketed that farm until I felldead between the posts of the old bed at night. 

I didn't pray. I knew God would understand. 

And through it all there was Matthew! The first week or two he remonstratedwith me; then when he saw that I was possessed by the demon of work he justrolled up his sleeves, collected Polly and Bud, and helped. He promoted hisbest clerk in the office to a junior partnership, refused several importantcases, bought the hundred-acre forest which joins Elmnest, which Aunt Maryhad had in her family for generations, and which had been considered aswaste land after the cedars had been cut off, and began to restore it. Henever bothered me once in a sentimental way, and when he brought the plansof his house over on the knoll opposite Elmnest, Polly helped me enthuseand criticize them, and he went away seemingly content. His and Polly'sRhode Island Reds were rivaling my Leghorns in productiveness, and all ofRiverfield seemed to have gone chicken mad. Mr. Spain traded a prize hogfor a cock, and twelve black Minorca hens, and Mr. Buford brought the bridetwo settings of gray "Rocks" to start a college education for the bundle. 

"Do you know what the whole kit and biling is so busy about?" said AuntMary as she surveyed with pride a new hen-house that Bud had just finished, in which I saw the trap nests over which she had disputed with thecommissioner of agriculture. "They were just woke up by that speech ofAdam's, and they are getting ready to show him what Riverfield can do whenhe gets back. When did you say you expect him, honeybunch?"

"I don't, " I answered quietly. 

"Why, I thought Silas said you did, " she answered absent-mindedly. "Now, you can have Bud, but not for keeps, because as I borned him I think I amentitled to work him. " We all laughed as Bud and I betook ourselves and alarge farm-basket full of late cabbage plants across to Elmnest. 

"Miss Ann, please ma'am, make mother let me go to town to-night with Mr. Matthew and stay with Miss Bess. All her linen chest has come, and I wantto see it, " Polly Corn-tassel waylaid us and pleaded. I went back and laidthe case before her mother. 

"Well, I suppose it won't hurt her if all this marriage and giving inmarriage don't get into her head. I aim to keep and work her at least twoyears longer to pay my trouble with her teething back, " agreed Aunt Mary. "When did you say the wedding was going to be?"

"June tenth, " I answered. 

"I heard that Mr. Owen Murray talking to Mr. Spain about his wooded pieceof land over by the big spring the other night. Looks like you are a potof honey, sure enough, child, that draws all your friends to settle aroundyou. "

"No, it's the back-to-the-land vogue, and this is the most beautiful partof the Harpeth Valley, " I answered as I again began to depart with Bud andthe cabbage plants. 

"Adam told me one night that he was going to prove that the Garden of Edenwas located right here. It was when your locusts were in full bloom and Iasked him if he had run down Eve anywhere. Are you sure you don't know whenhe'll come back to see us all?" Aunt Mary's blue eyes danced withmerriment. 

"No, " I answered, and went hastily back to Bud and left her muttering toherself, "Well, Silas _did_ say--"

All afternoon I stolidly planted the gray-green young cabbage sproutsbehind Bud's hoe and refused even to think about Bess's wedding-chest. Butat sunset I saw I must go into town to her dinner for the announcement ofher wedding, and wear one of my dresses that I had sold and then borrowedback from her--or have a serious crisis in our friendship. I hadn'tstrength for that, and I had hoped that the fun of it all would make noiseenough to wake some kind of echo in my very silent interior, but it didn't, though there was a positive uproar when Owen brought the whole Birdcollateral family, who now have wings and tails and pin feathers, into thedining-room and put them in the rose bed in the middle of the table so asto hear his oratorical effort as expectant bridegroom. 

"Why is it, Matt, that you have heart enough to drive me like mad out herein the dark and not make me say a word?" I asked him as he brought me homein the after-midnight hush. 

"You've trained my heart into silence, Ann, " he answered gently. 

"No!" I exclaimed, for I couldn't bear the thought of Matthew's big heartbeing silent too. Just then Polly, who had gone to sleep on the back seat, fell off and had to be rescued. We put her out at home in a wiltedcondition from pure good times, and then Matthew took me on up to Elmnest. An old moon was making the world look as if mostly composed of blackshadows, and Matthew walked at my side out to the barn to see if all wasquiet and well. 

"Why, what's the matter?" I exclaimed as I ran to the side of the shed inwhich Mrs. Ewe and the lambs resided. "Strike your cigar-lighter quick, Matt. "

As Matthew shed a tiny light from a silver tube upon the situation, I sankto my knees with a cry. There upon the grass lay one of my lambkins, andred blood was oozing from its woolly white throat. As I lifted it on myarm, its little body gave a shudder and then lay so still that I knew itwas dead. Mother Ewe stood near in the shadow and gave a plaintive bleat asshe came to my side. 

"Oh, " I sobbed as I looked up at Matthew, "it's dead. What did it?"

"A dog, " answered Matthew, as he knelt beside me and laid the tiny deadlamb back on the ground. 

"Not Peckerwood Pup!" I exclaimed. 

"No, she's too young; some stray, " answered Matthew as he look savagelyaround into the shadows. 

"It's the littlest one, and she licked my hand the last thing before Ileft. I can't bear it all, Matthew--this is too much for me, " I said, and Isobbed into my hands as I sank down into a heap against the side of thebereaved sheep mother, who was still uttering her plaintive moans ofquestion. 

I say now and I shall always maintain that the most wonderful tenderness inthe world is that with which a man who had known a woman all his life, whohas grown with her growth, has shared her laughter and her tears, and knowsher to her last feminine foible or strength, takes her into his arms. Matthew crouched down upon the grass beside me and gathered me against hisbreast, away from the dreadful monster-inhabited shadows, and made me feelthat a new day could dawn upon the world. I think from the way I huddled tohis strength that he knew that I had given up the fight and that his hourwas at hand. 

"Do you want me now, Ann?" he asked me; gently as he pressed his cheekagainst my hair. 

"If you want me, take me and help me find that dog to-morrow, " I answeredas I again reached out my hand and put it for the last time on the patheticlittle woolly head. I couldn't hold back the sob. 

"Go in the house to bed, dear, for you are completely worn out. I'll burythe lamb and look for any traces that may help us to find the savage, " saidMatthew as he drew me to my feet and with quiet authority led me to theback door and opened it for me. For a second I let him take me again intohis strong arms, but I wilted there and I simply could not raise my lips tohis. The first time I remember kissing Matthew Berry was at his own tenthbirthday party, and he had dropped a handkerchief behind me that I hadfailed to see as all of the budding flower and chivalry of Hayesville stoodin a ring in his mother's drawing-room. 

"Dear old Matt, " I murmured to myself as I again fell dead between theposts of the ancestral bed. 

The next morning I awoke to a new world--or rather I turned straight aboutand went back into my own proper scheme of existence. At the crack of dawnI wakened and set my muscles for the spring from my pillows, then Istretched my arms, yawned, snuggled my cheek into those same pillows, anddeliberately went to sleep, covering up my head with the old embroideredcounter-pane to shut out from my ears a clarion crow from beyond mywindows. When I next became conscious old Rufus' woolly head was peeringanxiously into my room door, and I judged from the length of the shadowsthat the sun cast from the windows that it must be after ten o'clock. 

"Am you sick?" he inquired with belligerent solicitude. 

"No, Rufus, and I'm going back to sleep. Call me in time to have dinnerwith father and Uncle Cradd, " I answered as I again burrowed into thepillows. 

"I give that there rooster and family a bucket of feed, " said Rufusbegrudgingly, and he stood as if waiting to be praised for thus burying thehatchet that he had been mentally brandishing over the neck of the enemy. 

I made no response, but stretched my tired limbs out between the silky oldsheets and again lost consciousness. 

The next time I became intelligent it was when Polly's soft arm was slidunder my neck and her red lips applied to my cheek. 

"Miss Ann, are you ill?" she questioned frantically. "Mr. Matthew and Ihave been here for hours and have fed and attended to everything. He mademe come up because he was afraid you might be dead. "

"I am, Polly, and now watch me come back to life, " I said as I sat up andblinked at the sun coming in through the western window, thus proclaimingthe time as full afternoon. 

"We found Mr. G. Bird and all of the other--" Polly was beginning to saywhen I cut her short. 

"Polly, dear, please go tell Matthew to ride down to the bank and telephoneBess that I'm coming in to stay a week with her and to invite Belle andOwen and the rest to dinner. By the time he gets back I'll be ready to go. "As I spoke I threw the sheet from me and started to arise, take up my life, and walk. 

"But who'll attend to the chickens and--" Polly fairly gasped. 

"I don't know and I don't care, and if you want to go in to dinner with us, Polly, you had better hurry on, for you'll have to beg your mother hard, " Isaid, and at the suggestion Polly fairly flew. 

I don't exactly know what Polly told Matthew about me, but his face was astudy as I descended elegantly clad and ready to go to town with him. 

"Good, dear!" he said as I raised my lips to his and gave him a secondedition of that ring-around-rosy kiss. "I knew you would wear yourself out. I have telephoned Owen to motor out that young Belgian that Baldwin gotdown to run my farm, and he'll take charge of everything while you rest. "

"I don't care whether he comes or not, " I said as I walked towards thelibrary door to say good-by to my parent twins, who hardly noticed me atall on account of a knotty disagreement in some old Greek text they weredigging over. 

"Well, you needn't worry about--" Matthew was continuing to say, with thedeepest uncertainty in his face and voice. 

"I won't, " I answered. "Did Bess say she could get enough people togetherto dance to-night?"

"We'll all go out to the country club and have a great fling, " saidMatthew, with the soothing tone of voice that one would use to a friendtemporarily mentally deranged. "Hope Mother Corn-tassel lets Polly go. "

"There she is waiting at the gate for us with her frills in a bundle. Swoopher up, Matt, and fly for fear she is getting off without Aunt Mary'sseeing her. Aunt Mary is so bent on keeping Polly's milking hand in. "

"That young Belgian says he's a good milker, and you needn't worry about--"

"I won't, " I again answered Matthew, and there was snap enough in my eyesand voice to make him whistle under his breath as he literally swooped upPolly, and they both had the good sense to begin to talk about town affairsand leave unmentioned all rural matters. 

Half-way into town Matthew swapped me for his Belgian in Owen's car, andPolly and I went on in with Owen and Bess, while Matthew returned out theRiverfield ribbon to install the rescuer of Elmnest. 

"Oh, Ann, this is delicious, " said Bess as she came back with me to cuddleme and ask questions. "But what are--"

"Bess, " I said, looking her straight in the face with determination, "I amgoing to marry Matt two days before you marry Owen, though he doesn't knowit yet, and if you talk about Elmnest to me I'll go and stay with Bellethis week. "

"How perfectly lovely, and how tired you are, poor dear!" Besscongratulated and exclaimed all in the same breath, then imparted both myannouncement and my injunction to Owen on the front seat. I didn't look atPolly while Owen was laughing and exclaiming, but when I did she lookedqueer and quiet; however, I didn't let that at all affect the nice crispcrust that had hardened on me overnight. And I must say that if Corn-tasselwasn't happy that evening surrounded by the edition of masculine societythat Matt had so carefully expurgated for her, she ought to have been. 

By that time I had told Matthew about his approaching marriage, acceptedhis bear-hug of joy, delivered before Bess and Polly and Owen and Belle, and I had been congratulated and received back into the bosom of my friendswith great joy and hilarity. 

"Now I can take care of you forever and ever, Ann, " whispered Matthew inhis good-night, with his lips against my ear. And there in his strong, sustaining arms, even though limp with fatigue, I knew I never did, could, or would, love anybody like I loved him. I don't really suppose I did hearPolly sob on her pillow beside mine, where she had insisted on reposing. She must have been all right, for she was gone out into the rural districtwith Matthew before I was awake the next morning. 

After Annette had served mine and Bess's chocolate in Bess's bedroom wesettled down to the real seriousness of trousseau talk, which lasted formany long hours. 

"Now if I sell you back all the things of yours I haven't worn for twohundred and fifty dollars that will leave you over three hundred in thebank to get a few wash frocks and hats and things to last you until you areenough married to Matthew to use his money freely, " said Bess after aboutan hour of discussion and admiration of her own half-finished trousseau. 

"Yes; I should say those things would be worth about two hundred and fiftydollars now that they are third-hand, " I answered Bess's excited eyes, giving her a look of well-crusted affection, for there are not many womenin the world, with unlimited command of the material that Bess has, whowould not have offered me a spiritual hurt by trying to give me back mythousand dollars' worth of old clothes which she had not needed in thefirst place when she bought them. 

"Now, that's all settled, and we'll begin to stretch that three hundreddollars to its limit. We won't care if things do tear, just so they looksmart until you and Matthew get to New York. Matthew won't be the firstbridegroom to go into raptures over a thirty-nine-cent bargain silk madeup by a sixty-dollar dressmaker. I'm giving Owen a few deceptions in thatline myself. That gray and purple tissue splits if you look at it, and Igot it all for three dollars. Felicia made it up mostly with glue, I think, and I will be a dream in it--a dream that dissolves easily. Let's goshopping. " As she thus led me into the maze of dishonest trousseau-buying, Bess began to ring for Annette. 

Of course most women in the world will refuse to admit that shopping canarouse them from any kind of deadness that the sex is heir to, but a fewfrank ones, like myself, for instance, will say such to be the case. Forthree weeks I gave myself up to a perfect debauch of clothes, and ended offeach day's spree by dancing myself into a state of exhaustion. Everybody inHayesville wanted to give Bess and me parties, and most of them did, thatis, as many as we could get in at the rate of three a day betweendressmakers and milliners and other clothing engagements. Owen gotperfectly furious and exhausted, but Matthew kept in an angelic frame ofmind through it all. I think the long days with Polly out in the openhelped him a lot, though at times I detected a worried expression on thefaces of them both, and I felt sure that they were dying to tell me that ithad been a case of the razor from Rufus' shoe between him and the Belgianor that the oil was of the grade that explodes incubators, but I gave themno encouragement and only inquired casually from time to time if theparental twins were alive. Polly even tried me out with a bunch of roses, which I knew came from the old musk clump in the corner of the garden whichI had seen rebudded, but I thanked her coldly and immediately gave them toBelle's mother. I saw Matthew comforting her in the distance, and his facewas tenderly anxious about me all the rest of the evening. 

"Dear, are we going to be--be married in town at a church?" Matthewinquired timidly one afternoon as he drove me home from a devastated hatshop on the avenue, in which Bess and I had been spending the day. 

"No, Matt dear, at Elmnest, " I answered kindly, as a bride, no matter howworn out, ought to answer a groom, though Bess says that a groom ought toexpect to be snapped every time he speaks for ten days before the wedding. "As long as I have got a home that contains two masculine parents I willhave to be married in it. I'll go out the morning of the wedding, and youand Polly fix everything and invite everybody in Riverfield, but just thefew people here in town you think we ought to have, not more than a dozen. Have it at five o'clock. " I thought then that I fixed that hour becauseeverybody would hate it because of the heat and uncertainty as to style ofclothes. 

"All right, dear, " answered Matthew, carefully, as if handlingconversational eggs. 

"Miss Ann, where do you want us to fix the wedding--er--bell and altar?"Polly ventured to ask timidly a few days later. 

"The parlor, of course, Polly. I hate that room, and it is as far from thebarn as possible. Now don't bother me any more about it, " I snapped, andsent her flying to Matthew in consternation. Later I saw them poring overthe last June-bride number of "The Woman's Review, " and I surmised the kindof a wedding I was in for. That day I tried on a combination of tull, lace, and embroidery at Felicia's that tried my soul as well as my body. 

"It's no worse than any other wedding-dress I ever saw; take it off quick, Madame, " I snapped as crossly as I dared at the poor old lady, who hadgowned me from the cradle to the--I was about to say grave. 

"Eh, la la, _mais_, you are _très deficile_--difficult, " she murmuredreproachfully. 

"Any more so than Bess?" I demanded. 

"_Non_, perhaps _non_, " she answered, with a French shrug. 

With beautiful tact Matthew fussed with his throttle, which I couldn't seestuck at all, the entire time he was driving me home, and left me with acareful embrace and also with relief in his face that I hadn't explodedover him. Owen is not like that to Bess; he just pours gas on herexplosions and fans the resulting flame until it is put out by tears in hisarms. 

"Let's never get married at the same time any more, Ann, " groaned Bess asAnnette tried to put us both to bed that night before we fell dead on herhands. 

"Don't speak to me!" was my answer as nearly as I can remember. 

"I'll be glad to get Bess away from your influence, " raged Owen at me thenext day when I very nearly stepped on one of the little chickens that hewas having run in and out from the conservatory. 

"You'll want to bring her back in a week if both your tempers don'timprove, " was my cutting reply as this time I lifted another of his smallpets with the toe of my slipper and literally flung it across the room. 

"Great guns!" exploded Owen, as he retreated into the conservatory andshut the door. 

The next night was the sixth of June and the night of my wedding eve. AllBess's bridesmaids and groomsmen were dining with her to rehearse herwedding and to have a sort of farewell bat with Matthew and me. 

"What about your and Ann's wedding to Matthew, Miss Polly?" I heard CaleJohnson ask Polly as she and Matthew were untangling a bolt of wide, white-satin ribbon that I had tangled. "All the show to be of rustics?"

"Nobody but Polly is going to stand by us, " said Matthew, lookingcautiously around to see if I was listening. "Ann doesn't believe in makingmuch fuss over a wedding. "

"I didn't know I was to be in it until Miss Bess took me to be fitted--oh, it is a dream of a dress, isn't it, Mr. Matthew?" said Polly, with herenthusiasm also tempered by a glance in my direction. 

"It sure is, " answered Matthew, with the greatest approval, as he regardedPolly with parental pride. 

"Well, I'm glad I'm invited to see it, " said Cale as he glanced at Pollytenderly. "I mean to be at the wedding, Matt, " he added politely. Cale wasto be best man with Polly as maid of honor at Bess's wedding, and he hadbeen standing and sitting close at Polly's side for more than ten days. 

"Let's try it all over again, everybody, " called Bess's wearied voice, interrupting Polly's enthusiastic description of ruffles. 

The wedding day was a nightmare. Annette and the housemaid and Bess and agirl from Madame Felicia's packed up three trunks full of my clothes andsent them all to the station. 

"I wish I never had to see them again, " I said viciously under my breath asthe expressmen carried out the last trunk. 

"Now, dear, in these two suitcases are your wedding things and yourgoing-away gown. Your dress is in the long box and we will send them allout early in the morning in my car. Matthew will drive us out as soon as wecan get ready, " Bess had said the night before, as she sank on my bed andspread out with fatigue. 

CHAPTER XII

The next morning it took Annette until ten o'clock and a shower of tears toget Bess and me to sit up and take our coffee. She said the decorators weredownstairs beginning on Bess's wedding decorations and that the sun wasshining on my wedding-day. 

"Well, I wish it had delayed itself a couple of hours. I'm too sleepy toget married, " I grumbled as I sat up to take the tray of coffee on myknees. 

"Owen is a darling, " I heard Bess murmur from her bed, which was againstthe wall and mine as our rooms opened into each other. I also heard arustle of paper and smelled the perfume of flowers. 

"This is for Mademoiselle from Monsieur Berry, " said Annette, as shetriumphantly produced a white box tied with white ribbons that lay in thecenter of a bunch of wild field-roses. 

"Take it away and let me drink my coffee, " I said, and I could seeAnnette's French eyes snap as she laid down the offering from Matthew andwent to attend upon Bess. 

"Dear Matt, " I murmured when I had consumed the coffee and discovered thelong string of gorgeous pearls in the white box. "Come on, Bess, let'sbegin to get married and be done with it, " I called to her as I wearilyarose. "What time did Polly say she and Matthew had decided to marry me?" Iasked as I went into my bath. 

"Five o'clock, and it's almost twelve now, " answered Bess in a voice ofpanic as I heard things begin to fly into place in her room. 

Despite the superhuman efforts and patience of Annette and two housemaids, directed from below by Owen and Judge Rutherford, it was half-past twoo'clock before I was ready to descend to the car in which Matthew had beensitting, patiently waiting in the sunshine of his wedding day for almosttwo hours. 

"Plenty of time, " he said cheerily, as I sank into the seat beside him, andBess and Owen climbed in behind us. Owen's chauffeur took Judge Rutherfordin Owen's car, and Annette perched her prim self on the front seat besidethe wheel. 

"Oh, Matt, there is nobody in the world like you, " I said as I cast myselfon his patience and imperturbability and also the strength of his broadshoulder next mine. I could positively hear Bess and Owen's joy over thisbride-like manifestation, which the wind took back to them as we wentsailing out of town towards the Riverfield ribbon. 

And to their further joy I put my cheek down against Matthew's throttle armand closed my eyes so that I did not see anything of the twenty-mileprogression out to Elmnest. I only opened them when we arrived inRiverfield at about half after three o'clock. 

Was the village out to greet me? It was not. Every front door was closed, and every front shutter shut, and I might have felt that some diredisapproval was being expressed of me and my wedding if I had not seensmoke fairly belching from every kitchen chimney, and if I hadn't knownthat each house was filled with the splash of vigorous tubbing for whichthe kitchen stoves and wash boilers were supplying the hot water. 

"Bet at least ten pounds of soap has gone up in lather, " said Matthew as heturned and explained the situation to Bess and Owen after I had explainedit to him. 

At the door of Elmnest stood Polly in a gingham dress, but with both endsof her person in bridal array, from the white satin bows on the looped upplats to the white silk stockings and satin slippers, greeting us withrelief and enthusiasm. Beside her stood Aunt Mary and the parent twins, also Bud, in the gray suit with a rose in his button-hole. 

Matthew handed me out and into their respective embraces, while he alsogave Polly a bundle of dry-goods from which I could see white satin ribbonbursting. 

"Everything is ready, " she confided to him. 

"I knew it would be, Corn-tassel, " he answered, with an expression ofaffectionate confidence and pride. 

Then from the embrace of Uncle Cradd I walked straight through the backdoor towards the barn, leaving both Bess and Annette in a state of wildremonstrance, with the wedding paraphernalia all being carried up thestairs by Bud and Rufus. Looking neither to the right nor to the left, Imade my way to the barn-door and then stopped still--dead still. 

It was no longer my barn--it was merely the entrance to a model poultryfarm that spread out acres and acres of model houses and runs behind it. Chickens, both white and red, were clucking and working in all the pens, and nowhere among them could I see the Golden Bird. 

"I hope he's dead, too, " I said as I turned on my heel and, without aword, walked back to the house and up to my room, past Polly and Matthew, who stood at the barn-door, their faces pale with anxiety. 

When I considered that I had been able for months to clothe myself withdecency and leave my room in less than fifteen minutes, I could not see whytime dragged so for me when being clothed by Annette and Aunt Mary. True, Aunt Mary paused to sniff into her handkerchief every few minutes or tolisten to Annette's French raptures as she laid upon me each foolishgarment up unto the long swath of heathenish tulle she was beginning toarrange when an interruption occurred in the shape of Rufus, who put hishead in the door and mysteriously summoned Polly, who had come in toexhibit her silk muslin frills, in which she was the incarnation of younglove's dream. 

"You are beautiful, darling, " I had just said, with the first warmth in myvoice I had felt for many days, when Rufus appeared and Polly departed toleave Annette and Aunt Mary to the task of the tulle and orange-blossoms. They took their time, and it was only five minutes to five when Bess camein to get her procession all marshalled. 

"Come down the back steps, darling, and let's all cool off on the backporch, " she advised. "It is terribly hot up here under the roof, and Pollyand Matthew say they have decided to come in from the back door soeverybody will have a better view of you. How beautiful you are!"

As directed, I descended and stood spread out like a white peacock on theback porch. 

"Now call Matthew and Polly, " Bess directed Annette. 

For several minutes we waited. 

"Monsieur Berry is not here, " finally reported Annette, with fine dramaticeffect of her outspread hands. 

"Tell Owen to find him, " commanded Bess. "It is five minutes late now, andthey must make that seven-twenty New York train. Hurry!"

Annette departed while Aunt Mary came to the back door and looked outquestioningly. 

"Great guns, Bess, where is Matt?" demanded Owen as he came around thehouse with his eyes and hair wild. 

"Where is Polly? she'll know!" I answered tranquilly. 

"I searched Mademoiselle Polly, and she is also not here, " answeredAnnette, again running down the back stairs. From the long parlor and hallcame an excited buzz, and Aunt Mary came out upon the back porch entirelythis time. 

"Every one of you go and look for them and leave me here quiet if you don'twant me to have a brain storm, " I said positively. "They have probably goneto feed the chickens. "

Not risking me to make good my threat, Bess and Annette and Aunt Mary andOwen and Bud disappeared in as many different directions. They left mestanding alone out on the old porch, along the eaves of which rioted arose, literally covered with small pink blossoms that kept throwinggenerous gusts of rosy petals down upon my tulle and lace and the bouquetof exotics I held in my hand. Across the valley the skyline of ParadiseRidge seemed to be holding down huge rosy clouds that were trying to bubbleup beyond it. 

Suddenly I drew aside the tulle from my face, dropped my bouquet, andstretched out my arms to the sunset. 

"I will lift up mine eyes to the hills--Oh, Pan!" I said in a soft agony ofsupplication as I felt the crust around me begin a cosmic upheaval. 

"Well, this looks like a Romney bundle and my woman to follow into thewoods. You know I won't have this kind of a wedding, " suddenly fluted astormy voice from the other side of the rose vine as Pan came up to thebottom of the steps. 

"Why--why, " I began to say, and then stopped, because the storm was stillbursting over my head from Pan, who was attired in his usual Roycroftcostume and had in one hand the Romney bundle and in the other the usualwhite bundle of herbs. Also as usual he was guiltless of a hat, and thecrests were unusually long and ruffled. 

"You look foolish, and I won't marry you that way. Go straight up-stairsand put on real clothes, get your bundle, and come on. I want to eat supperover on Sky Rock, and it is seven miles, and you'll have to cook it. I'mhungry, " he stormed still more furiously. 

"Everybody is inside waiting, and it's not your--"

"Well, tell 'em all to come out in the open. I won't take a mate in ahouse, even if it has to be done with this foolish paper, " he continued torage as he sought in the bandana bundle and produced an official documentwith a red tape on it. "You go and put on your clothes, and I'll break upthis foolishness and get 'em in the yard. "

"But wait--you don't understand. You--"

"You've got all the rest of your life to explain disobeying me like thiswhen I expressly wrote you just what I wanted you to--" Pan went on withhis raging. At this juncture Uncle Cradd appeared at the back door in mildexcitement. 

"Nancy, my child, our friends are growing impatient, and is there anythingthe--"

But here he was interrupted by a clamor of voices that fairly poured itsvolume around the corner of the house. In two seconds it explained itselfby its very appearance. First came Matthew, walking slowly, and in his armshe carried a soaked bundle which he held to his breast as tenderly, I wassure, as young Mrs. Buford was holding the blue bundle in the parlor, andtwo long plaits hung down over his arm. From between him and the bundlethere came a feeble squawking and fluttering of wings. From them all pouredrivulets of water, and mingled with the squawks were weak gurgles. As Ilooked, Matthew stopped and lifted the bundle closer on his breast, disclosing its identity as that of Polly, and buried his face in thesoaked hair while they all stood dripping together as the rest of us stoodperfectly silent and still. 

"That fool Henri let the Golden Bird get away, and he flew across the riverand fell in a tangle of undergrowth. Rufus called Polly, and she plungedright in after him. Her dress caught on the same snag and God, Ann, theywere being sucked under just as I got to them. She's still unconscious. " Insome ways as unconscious as was the Corn-tassel, Matthew began to press hotkisses on the face under his chin which brought forth a feeble choke. 

"Lay her down on the porch, and I'll show you how to empty her lungs, Berry, " said Adam, laying down his bundle and taking charge of thesituation, as all the rest, even capable Aunt Mary, still stood helplessbefore the catastrophe. Reluctantly, Matthew obeyed. 

"Uncle Cradd, go in the house and tell them all what has happened, and askthem all to come out on the cool of the lawn until we can have thewedding. It will be in just a few minutes, tell them, " I said, with thebrain that had taken the incubator eggs to bed with Bess and me beginningto act rapidly. "Let me speak to you just a second, Matt, " I said, and drewthe dazed and dripping bridegroom to one side. 

"Matthew, " I said very quietly and slowly so that I would not have torepeat the words, "I'm not going to marry you at all, but I'm going tomarry Evan Baldwin. I'll tell you all about it when I come back from myhoneymoon with him. You help me put it through and then stay right here andlook after Polly. She may suffer terribly from shock. "

"Oh, God, Ann, my heart turned over in my breast and kicked when I saw hersink, and for a minute I couldn't find her, " Matthew said as he gave adripping shudder that shook some of the water off him and on my tulle. Tothe announcement of the loss of a bride he gave no heed at all, for at thatmoment, as Pan lifted the drenched bundle across his knees and patted it, a faint voice moaned out Matthew's name, and he flew to receive the revivedPolly in his arms. 

"Now, hold her that way until I am sure I have established completerespiration, " commanded Pan. "You women begin to take these wet rags off ofher. Get two blankets. " At which command the rest of the bridal party flewto work in different directions and I with them. Bess and I arrived in myroom at the same moment, and she seized the two blankets I drew from thechest and departed without waiting for words. As I drew out the blankets, something else rolled to the floor, and I saw it was my Romney bundle, packed weeks before my death. 

Its suggestion was not to be denied. I stopped just where I was, and in twominutes my strong hands ripped that tulle and lace and chiffon from my backwithout waiting to undo hooks and eyes. In another three minutes I was intoa pair of the tan cotton stockings and the flat shoes, which Pan had mademe that rainy day in the barn, had on my corduroys and a linen smock, andwas running down to my wedding with wings of the wind. 

When I reached the back porch I found Polly sitting up on the floor, withMatthew's arms around her, and the entire wedding-party standing beside theback steps, looking on and ejaculating with thankfulness. Old ParsonHenderson stood near, beaming down benedictions for the rescue, and Idecided that they were all in a daze in which anything could be put over onthem. 

"Here's my bundle and me, " I whispered to Pan, as he stood regarding theyoung recovered squaw proudly. "Hand the license to Parson Hendricks. I'llmake him go on and marry us and get away before anybody puts me back intotulle. "

"As Polly is all right now we'll have the wedding, for it's getting late, and we want to get across to the Paradise Ridge to camp, " said Adam, withthe fluty command in his voice which always gets attention and obedience. As he spoke he put down his bundle, gave Parson Hendricks the document, anddrew me beside him. I kept my bundle in my hand and stood with my other inhis. 

"Why, I didn't know that--" the old parson began to splutter while a murmurof surprise and question began to arise among the hitherto hypnotizedwedding-guests. Judge Rutherford stood apart with the twin parents showingthem some book treasure he had unearthed for father, and I don't think thateither one of my natural guardians was at my wedding except in body. 

At the critical moment dear old Matt did rise to the occasion, as did Pollyalso, with a crimson glow coming into her drenched cheeks, pallid only asecond before, and a light like sunrise on a violet bank coming into hereyes. 

"She's always intended to marry Baldwin. I knew all about it. Go on!"Matthew commanded, as he supported Polly in her blankets on wobbly barefeet. 

During the resuscitation of Polly, Owen Murray, true to his new passion forthe Leghorn family, had been reviving Mr. G. Bird and now with regard fordecorum, he set him quietly upon his feet. Did the Golden Bird run like acoward from the scene of the catastrophe of his making? He did not. Hedeliberately stretched his wings, gave a mighty crow, and walked over andbegan to peck in my smock-pockets at corn that had lain there many longweeks for him. 

"Go on, Parson, " commanded Pan again, impatiently, and then standingtogether in the fading sunlight, Pan, Mr. G. Bird, and I were married. 

Did Pan allow me to stay and make satisfactory explanations of my conductto my friends and enjoy the wedding festivities so carefully copied out ofthe "Review" by Polly and Matthew? He did not. Immediately after theceremony he picked up his two bundles and turned to all of our assembledfriends. 

"We'll be back in a few weeks, and then I'll show you what I learned inArgentina. We have to hurry now to get across the valley. Some of the finesheep over at Plunkett's are down with foot rash, and I want to be there bynoon. Luck to you all. " With these words Pan led me around the corner ofthe house, through the old garden, and out into the woods, Mr. G. Birdstill following at the smock-pocket. 

"We'll have to go back and lock him up; he'll follow me, " I said, as Ipaused and took the Golden Bird's proud head in my hand and let him peck ata dull gold circle on my third finger, which, I am sure, Pan himself hadhammered out of a nugget for me. 

"No, let's take him. I want to show him over at Plunkett's and then inProvidence and Hillsboro, to grade up their poultry. I doubt if there's hisequal in America, " answered Pan as he went on ahead of me to break theundergrowth into which he was leading me underneath the huge old trees. 

"I didn't write you to let that fool Belgian prune the whole place likethat, " Pan remarked as we paused at old Tilting Rock and looked down uponthe orderly and repaired Elmnest in the sunset glow. 

"Write?" I murmured weakly, while my mind accused Uncle Cradd, and rightlytoo, as I learned later after a search in his pockets. 

"Wasn't any use sending any letter after that New Orleans one, because Itraveled on the return trip all the way myself. Still you did pretty wellto get the wedding and all ready at the hour I set, even if you did makethat awful flummery mistake. I'll forgive you even that after I get overthe shock of seeing you look that way. "

"The hour you set?" I again murmured a weak question. 

"I thought of writing you to get ready by nine o'clock in the morning, butI knew I'd have to stop in Hayesville for that bit of red tape, so I saidfive o'clock and had to hustle to make it. I knew you'd be ready. Nowyou'll have to travel, for we have five miles to go and it takes the pottwo hours to simmer. Are you hungry?"

I hadn't the strength to answer. I had just enough to pad along behind athis heels with Mr. G. Bird at mine. However, as I padded, I suddenly feltreturn that strength of ten women which I had put from me the morning Ifled from the empty Elmnest, and I knew that it had come upon me to abide. 

I needed every bit of the energy of ten ordinary women to keep up withPan's commands, as I helped him make camp beside a cool spring that bubbledout of a rock in a little cove that was swung high up on the side ofParadise Ridge. I washed the bundle of greens he had brought to the weddingand set them to simmer with the inevitable black walnut kernels in a potthat he produced from under a log in the edge of the woods, along with acouple of earthen bowls like the ones he kept secreted in the spring-houseat Elmnest. 

"Got 'em all over ten States, " he answered, as I questioned him withdelight at the presence of our old friends. Then while I crouched andstirred, he took his long knife out, cut great armfuls of cedar boughs, threw them in a shadow at the foot of a tall old oak, and with a bundle ofsticks swept upon them a great pile of dry leaves into the form of a hugenest. The golden glow was just fading as I lifted the pot and poured hisportion in his bowl, then mine in the other, while he cut the black loaf hehad taken from his bundle into hunks with his knife. It was after seveno'clock, and the crescent moon hung low by the ridge, waiting for the sunto take its complete departure before setting in for its night's joy-rideup the sky. It was eight before Pan finished his slow browsing in his bowland came over to crouch with me out on the ledge of rock that overlookedthe world below us. Clusters of lights in nests of gray smoke were dottedaround over the valley, and I knew the nearest one was Riverfield; indeed Icould see a bunch of lights a little way apart from the rest, and I feltsure that they were lighting the remaining revelers at my wedding-feast atElmnest. The Golden Bird had gone sensibly to roost on one of the lowlimits of the old oak, and he reminded me of the white blur of Polly'swedding bell, which I had caught a glimpse of as I ran through the hall atElmnest. 

"_I am thy child_, " crooned Pan, with a new note to his chant thatimmediately started on my heartstrings. "And I'm tired, " he added as hestretched himself on the rock beside me, laid his head on my breast, andnuzzled his lips into my bare throat. 

"I'm going to lift the crests and look at the tips of your ears, Pan, " Isaid as I held him tight. 

"Better not, " he mocked me. 

I did, and the tips were--I never intend to tell. 

The lights were twinkling out in the valley one by one, and the young moonmade the purple blackness below us only faintly luminous when Pan drew mecloser and then into the very edge of the world itself, and pointed downinto the soft darkness. 

"We are all like that, we natives of this great land--asleep in the midstof a silvery mist, while the rest of the world is in the blaze of hell. We've got to wake up and take them to our breast, to nourish and warm andsave them. There'll be just you and I and a few others to call the rest ofour people until they hear and value and work, " he said as he settled meagainst him so that the twain chants of our heartstrings became one. 

"I'll follow you through the woods and help you call, Adam, " I said softly, with my lips under the red crest nearest to me. 

"And I'll bring you back here to nest and stay with you until your youngare on their feet, with their eyes open, " Pan crooned against my lips. "Dear God, what a force unit one woman and one man can create!"

THE END

 * * * * *

THE FIREFLY OF FRANCE

_By_ MARION POLK ANGELLOTTI

This is not a story of laughter or tears, of shock or depression. It has nomanufactured gloom. It preaches no reform. It has not a single socialproblem around which the characters move and argue and agonize. No readerneed lie awake at night wondering what the author meant; all she intends toconvey goes over the top with the first sight of the printed words. Thestory invites the reader to be thrilled, and dares him (or her) to weep. 

Briefly, "The Firefly of France" is in the manner of the romance--in themanner of Dumas, of Walter Scott. It is a story of love, mystery, danger, and daring. It opens in the gorgeous St. Ives Hotel in New York and endsbehind the Allied lines in France. The story gets on its way on the firstpage, and the interest is continuous and increasing until the last page. And it is all beautifully done. 

The Philadelphia Record says: "No more absorbing romance of the war hasbeen written than 'The Firefly of France. ' In a sprightly, spontaneous waythe author tells a story that is pregnant with the heroic spirit of theday. There is a blending of mystery, adventure, love and high endeavor thatwill charm every reader. "

_12mo, 363 pages__Illustrated by Grant T. Reynard__Price $1. 40_

At All BookstoresPublished by

THE NEW CENTURY CO. 

353 Fourth AvenueNew York City

 * * * * *

FILM FOLK

"Close-ups" of the Men, Women and Children who make the "Movies. "

_By_ ROB WAGNER

A book of humor and entertaining facts. It is a sort of Los AngelesCanterbury Tales wherein appears the stories, told in the first person, ofthe handsome film actor whose beauty is fatal to his comfort; of the childwonder; the studio mother; the camera man, who "shoots the films"; thescenario writer; the "extra" man and woman, whose numbers are as the sandsof the sea; the publicity man, who "rings the bells, " etc. , etc. 

All the stories are located in or near Los Angeles, a section more denselypopulated with makers of "movies" than any other section on earth. Theauthor lives there, he has been in sympathetic contact with these votariesof this new art since its beginning, and his statements are entirelytrustworthy. 

"Film Folk" is not a series of actual biographies of individuals; theauthor in each case presents an actor, a director or one of the othercharacters for the sake of concreteness and to carry out the story-form, and he contrives to set forth in the course of the book the entiremovie-making world. The reader gets a clear idea of how the films are madeand he is immensely entertained with the accounts of the manners andcustoms of the inhabitants of the vast movie villages--manners and customsunique in many respects. 

The stories are told in a style as easy to read as the author isgood-humored. 

_8vo, 356 pages__Illustrated from photographs__Price $2. 00_

At All BookstoresPublished by

THE CENTURY CO. 

353 Fourth AvenueNew York City