Mary Louise in the Country | Page 5

horn-rimmed spectacles."
"Dat stoahkeepeh ain' no owl, Kun'l," asserted Uncle Eben earnestly.
"He done know all dey is to know 'roun' dese diggin's, an' a lot moah,
too. An' a owl is a mighty wise bird, Kun'l, ef I do say it, an' no
disrespec'; so what dat stoahkeepeh say I's boun' to take notice of."
Mary Louise spent the afternoon in examining her new possession and
"getting settled." For--wonder of wonders!--Joe Brennan arrived with
the trunks at three o'clock, some nine hours before the limit of midnight.
The Colonel, as he paid the man, congratulated him on making such
good time.

"Ya-as," drawled Joe; "I done pretty well, considerin'. But if I hadn't
hired out by the day I'd sure be'n a loser. I've be'n a good ten hours
goin' fer them trunks, fer I started at five this mornin'; so, if I'd tooken a
doller fer the job, I'd only made ten cents a hour, my price bein'
twenty-five. But, as it is," he added with pride, "I git my reg'lar rate of a
dollar 'n' a quarter a day."
"Proving that it pays to drive a bargain," commented the Colonel.
Mary Louise unpacked Gran'pa Jim's trunk first and put his room in
"apple-pie order," as Aunt Polly admiringly asserted. Then she settled
her own pretty room, held a conference with her servants about the
meals and supplies, and found it was then time to dress for dinner. She
was not yet old enough to find household duties a bore, so the
afternoon had been delightfully spent.
Early after breakfast the next morning, however, Mary Louise started
out to explore the grounds of her domain. The day was full of sunshine
and the air laden with fragrance of flowers--a typical May morning.
Gran'pa Jim would, of course, read for an hour or two and smoke his
pipe; he drew a chair upon the broad veranda for this very purpose; but
the girl had the true pioneer spirit of discovery and wanted to know
exactly what her five acres contained.
The water was doubtless the prime attraction in such a neighborhood.
Mary Louise made straight for the river bank and found the shallow
stream--here scarce fifty feet in width--rippling along over its stony bed,
which was a full fifty feet wider than the volume of water then required.
When the spring freshets were on perhaps the stream reached its banks,
but in the summer months it was usually subdued as now. The banks
were four feet or more above the rabble of stones below, and close to
the bank, facing the river on her side, Mrs. Kenton had built a pretty
pavilion with ample seats and room for half a dozen wicker chairs and a
table, where one could sit and overlook the water. Mary Louise
fervently blessed the old lady for this idea and at once seated herself in
the pavilion while she examined at leisure the scene spread out before
her.

Trees hid all the neighboring residences but one. Just across the river
and not far from its bank stood a small, weather-beaten cottage that was
in sharp contrast with the rather imposing Kenton residence opposite. It
was not well kept, nor even picturesque. The grounds were unattractive.
A woodpile stood in the front yard; the steps leading to the little porch
had rotted away and had been replaced by a plank-- rather unsafe
unless one climbed it carefully, Mary Louise thought. There were
time-worn shades to the windows, but no curtains. A pane of glass had
been broken in the dormer window and replaced by a folded newspaper
tacked over it. Beside the porch door stood a washtub on edge; a few
scraggly looking chickens wandered through the yard; if not an abode
of poverty it was surely a place where careless indifference to either
beauty or the comfort of orderly living prevailed.
So much Mary Louise had observed, wondering why Mrs. Kenton had
not bought the cottage and torn it down, since it was a blot on the
surrounding landscape, when she saw the door open and a man come
out. She gave a little gasp of astonishment as her eyes followed this
man, who slowly took the path to the bridge, from whence the road led
into the village.
CHAPTER III
THE FOLKS ACROSS THE RIVER
Her first glance told the girl that here was a distinctly unusual
personage. His very appearance was quaint enough to excite comment
from a stranger. It must have been away back in the revolutionary days
when men daily wore coats cut in this fashion, straight across the
waist-line in front and with two long tails flapping behind. Modern
"dress coats" were much like it, to be sure, but this was of a faded
blue-bottle color and had brass buttons and