Randy and Her Friends | Page 4

'n I

picked holes in the bundles, an' one's blue an' one's red an' which do
you s'pose is mine? And Aunt Prudence is comin' to see us next week,
an' there's goin' to be a new spout to our rain water barrel, an' I guess
that's all."
"Well if all that happened while I've been out in the pasture," said
Randy, laughing, "I guess I'll have to stay in for a while and see what
happens next."
CHAPTER II
A CHEERFUL GIVER
It was a warm August evening when a farm hand passing the Weston
house paused a moment to look admiringly at the picture which the
wide open door presented.
A rude frame of home manufacture, covered with netting, kept
inquisitive moths from entering, at the same time allowing a flood of
light to make its way out into the door-yard, where it lay upon the grass
and added glory to the marigolds which grew beside the path.
"Happiest family I know on," muttered the man, drawing a rough hand
across his eyes. "Makes me think of the time when I was a little feller
ter hum, and had two sisters jest 'baout the size of Square Weston's
girls."
Then, with a sigh, the man went on up the road, but the memory of the
family group in the brightly lighted room remained in his mind for
many a day.
At one side of the table with its bright cloth smoothly spread, sat Mr.
Weston perusing the county paper, at times reading aloud a bit of
especially interesting news to his wife who was busily at work upon an
apron for little Prue. In the centre of the table stood a large lamp, a
monument to the enterprise of Silas Barnes, the village storekeeper.
"You folks don't want ter go pokin' raound with taller candles when ye

kin git er lamp that gives light like all fireation, do ye?" he had said.
And those farmers who could afford the luxury invested in a lamp at
once. Others, whose purses were too lean for such expenditure, affected
to prefer candles, declaring the lamplight to be too glaring for their
taste.
Just where the light shone through the outline of her rippling hair sat
Randy, reading aloud to Prue, who stood beside her at the table,
insisting upon seeing each picture as Randy turned the page.
As she finished reading the story, Randy turned, and slipping her arm
about Prue drew her closer, while the little sister, giving a contented
little sigh exclaimed,
"That's the best story of all, Randy, read it again."
"Why, Prue, you've just heard it twice," said Randy, "you don't want to
hear it again to-night!"
"Oh, yes, I do!" cried Prue. "I'd like to hear it all over again from the
beginning, 'Once upon a time.' 'F I hear it this once more it'll seem 'bout
true."
"I should think 'twould seem threadbare," said her father, with ill
suppressed amusement.
"No, no!" cried Prue, "'tain't freadbare, it's fine, the finest in the book.
Do read it, Randy, and then I'll be willing to go to bed."
So Randy began once more the story which had so charmed the little
sister, and very patiently she read it, while Prue, who was really sleepy,
made heroic efforts to keep her eyes open.
Often her lashes would lie for an instant upon her cheek, when
immediately she would open her eyes very wide, and look furtively
about to see if her drowsiness were detected.
"And they lived happily ever after," read Randy.

"And they lived--happily--ever--after," drawled Prue, as if in proof that
she were indeed awake.
"Why Prue," cried Randy, "you're half asleep."
"I'm not," Prue answered, "I heard what you read. You said 'and they
lived happy ever after.' Now I'm wide awake, else how did I hear?"
After Prue was safely tucked in bed, Randy returned to the cheerful
room below and unfolded her plan for spending her prize money.
Mrs. Weston put aside her sewing to listen, and Mr. Weston laying his
paper across his knees, watched Randy keenly as she said,
"You see I've felt that I should like to do something with this prize
which it would always give me pleasure to remember, and I know that
if you both think best to let me do this, I shall always look back to it
with happy thoughts."
There was a pause when Randy had finished speaking, then Mrs.
Weston, without a word, placed her hand upon Randy's, as it lay upon
the table and the Squire, taking off his glasses and affecting to see a bit
of moisture upon them, took out his handkerchief and slowly wiping
the lenses he said,
"As far as our letting ye, Randy, the money's yer own ter do as ye