Janice Day at Poketown | Page 8

exclaimed his mother. "That ain't perlite."
"Who said 'twas?" returned her hopeful son, shortly. "I ain't tryin' ter be
perlite ter no girl. And I ain't goin' ter 'Rill Scattergood's school--never,
no more!"
"Young man," commanded his father, angrily, "you hold that tongue o'
yourn. And you be perlite to your cousin, or I'll dance the dust out o'
your jacket with a hick'ry sprout, big as ye be."
Janice hastened to change the subject and tune the conversation to a
more pleasant key.
"It is so pretty all over this hillside," she said. "Around Greensboro the
country is flat. I think the hills are much more beautiful. And the lake is
just dear."
"Ya-as," sighed her aunt. "Artis' folks come here an' paint this lake. I
reckon it's purty; but ye sort er git used ter it after a while."
It was evidently hard for Aunt 'Mira to enthuse over anything. Marty
volunteered:

"We got a waterfall on our place. Folks call it the Shower Bath. Guess a
girl would think 'twas pretty."
"Oh! I'd love to see that," declared Janice, quickly.
"I'll show it to you after dinner," said Marty, of a sudden surprisingly
friendly.
"You'll hoe them 'taters after dinner," cried his father, sharply. "That's
what you'll do."
"Huh!" growled the sullen youth. "Yer said I was to be perlite, an' when
I start in ter be, you spring them old pertaters on a feller. Huh!"
"Aw, now, Jason," interposed his mother. "Can't Marty show his cousin
over the farm and hoe the 'taters afterward?"
"No, he can't!" denied Master Marty, quickly. "I ain't goin' ter work
double for nobody. Now, that's flat!"
"Oh, we can go to the Shower Bath some other time," suggested Janice,
apprehensive of starting another family squabble. "I don't know as I'd
be able to hoe potatoes; but maybe there are other things I can do in the
garden. I always had a big flower garden at home."
"Huh!" grunted Marty. "Flowers are only a nuisance."
"I s'pose you could weed some," sighed Aunt 'Mira. "It hurts me so to
stoop."
"She'd better pick 'tater bugs," said Marty, grinning. "They've begun to
come, I reckon. Hard-shells, anyway."
Janice could not resist shivering at this suggestion. She did not love
insects any better than do most girls. But she took Marty's suggestion in
good part.
"You wait," she said. "Maybe I can do that, too. I'll weed a little,
anyway. Have you a large farm, Uncle Jason?"

"It's big enough, Janice," grumbled Jason. "Does seem as though--most
years--it's too big for us to manage. If Marty, here, warn't so triflin'----"
"I don't see no medals on you for workin' hard," whispered the boy,
loud enough for Janice to hear.
"This was a right good farm, onc't," said Aunt 'Mira. "B'fore Jason got
his mis'ry we use ter have good crops. That's when we was fust
married."
"But that's what broke my health all down," interposed Uncle Jason.
"Don't pay a man to work so hard when he's young. He has ter suffer
for it in the end."
"Huh!" grunted Marty. "If it wasn't good for you to work so hard when
you was young, what about me?"
"You git along out o' here an' start on them 'taters!" commanded Mr.
Day, angrily.
Marty slid out, muttering under his breath. Janice jumped up from the
table, saying cheerfully:
"I'll help you with the dishes, Aunty. Let's clear off."
Her uncle had risen and was feeling for his corncob pipe on the ledge
above the door. Mrs. Day looked a bit startled when she saw Janice
begin briskly to collect the soiled dishes.
"I dunno, Janice," she hesitated. "I gin'rally feel right po'ly after dinner,
and I'm use ter takin' forty winks."
Janice did not wonder that her aunt felt "right po'ly." She had eaten
more pork, potatoes, spring cabbage and fresh bread than would have
served a hearty man.
"Let's get rid of the dishes first, Aunty," said Janice, cheerfully. "You
can get your nap afterward."

"Wa-al," agreed Mrs. Day, slowly rising. "I dunno's there's water
enough to more'n give 'em a lick and a promise. Marty? Oh, you Marty!
Come, go for a pail of water, will ye? That's a good boy."
"Now, ye know well enough," snarled Jason's voice just outside the
door, "that that boy ain't in earshot now."
"Oh, I can get a pail of water from the pump, Aunty," said Janice,
briskly starting for the porch.
"But that pump ain't 'goin'," declared Mrs. Day. "An' no knowin' when
'twill be goin'. We have ter lug all our water from Dickerson's."
"Oh, gimme the bucket!" snapped Uncle Jason, putting his great, hairy
hand inside the door and snatching the water-pail from the shelf.
"Wimmen-folks is allus a-clatterin about suthin'!"
Janice had never imagined