486F
 
 LELE AND HER FATHER
 
 The Man with the Hoe. 
 
 A Picture 
 
 of American Farm Life 
 As It Is To-day. 
 
 By ADAM BLAKE. 
 
 "Noble deeds are held in honor, 
 
 But the wide world needs 
 Hearts of patience to unravel 
 
 This, the worth of common deeds." 
 
 E. C. STEDMAN. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 THE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY. 
 J904.
 
 iCopyright, 1903. 
 THE ROBERT CLARKE Co. 
 
 PRESS OF THE ROBERT CLARKE CO. 
 CINCINNATI, V. S. A.
 
 To THE 
 TOILING FARMERS OF AMERICA, 
 
 AND THEIR 
 
 BUSY WIVES AND SONS AND DAUGHTERS, 
 
 THIS BOOK is DEDICATED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 2134187
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In reprinting this story of farm life, a few pre- 
 liminary remarks become necessary. 
 
 First, as to the title : " The Man with the Hoe " 
 was written and had appeared in The Ohio Farmer as 
 a serial before Edwin Markham's poem, by the same 
 title, flamed meteor-like above the literary horizon. 
 There is natural hesitation in offering to the public a 
 book under a title which is linked with another's world- 
 wide fame, and but for a fact which shall be alluded 
 to later, the author would gladly exchange it for one 
 less liable to invite " invidious comparisons." The 
 damage to the poet will, of course, be slight. The 
 chief danger to the writer of the present volume will 
 be that purchasers, when ordering, will forget to specify 
 the author, and upon receiving a copy of Edwin Mark- 
 ham's poem, will find that they have their money's 
 worth, and fail to have it exchanged for the story 
 on the principle that " it is never safe to give up cer- 
 tainties for uncertainties," - resulting in a decrease of 
 sales for the undersigned. 
 
 So, in ordering " The Man with the Hoe," if you 
 wish to get the story, be sure to add: "By Adam 
 Blake." 
 
 Second, as to the story : Eight years ago I thought 
 
 (v)
 
 VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I had shown you " The Man with the Hoe " full grown. 
 I was mistaken. He was then little more than a child. 
 He has grown since. I think you will find him so 
 much improved that you will not much care if you lose 
 sight of him as he was. In short, you are not receiving 
 a mere reprint of the story you read a while ago. 
 Years have been spent in its revision. The work has 
 been the chief pleasure and recreation of a very busy 
 and often very tired person, who had little time to 
 write, and has, in fact, written very little ; one who has 
 seen the crops fail, and the grass wither, and the ponds 
 go dry, and the young fruit-trees go down under the 
 relentless sweep of summer tempests ; who has become 
 acquainted, agriculturally, with every bug that bites, 
 and every worm that crawls, and every winged and 
 four-footed pest that makes the discouraged tiller of 
 the soil exclaim, " What next?" 
 
 A settled conviction has come to this individual that 
 the farmer ought to have a book of his very own, and 
 that the title of that book could only be "The Man 
 with the Hoe." The serial under this title had appealed 
 to farmers. Many of them had asked for it in book 
 form. The author felt that they ought to be gratified. 
 So here, after long delay, is the book. 
 
 Much has been added to the original story; much 
 omitted. Here, more than in the serial, a deter- 
 mined effort has been made to mirror the lives of those 
 who wield the hoe the peculiar temptations and trials 
 of men Who are the nation's hope to-day. 
 
 And above all, because of love for the old farm,
 
 INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 and a wish to see its owner prosper, the author has 
 tried to make clear, in this "plain tale" from the Penn- 
 sylvania hills, that successful farming is as fine an art 
 as painting or architecture, and should be as carefully 
 studied. The theory that " Any fool can farm " is 
 exploded. Only shrewd men who farm on strictly 
 business principles have a right to marry noble, self- 
 sacrificing women, and rear children, in the country. 
 The misery of an unsuccessful farmer's family is as 
 real and their deprivations as great as can be found 
 anywhere. Nowhere else, except among the city's 
 most wretched poor, does the wife toil more unremit- 
 tingly, and the children enjoy fewer opportunities for 
 developing all that is best in their natures, than upon 
 such farms as that of Omar Fairfax. And nowhere 
 else is their less sympathy between parent and child, 
 more discord, and a smaller degree of the peace and 
 contentment which should be found so " near to Na- 
 ture's heart." 
 
 It is true, Omar Fairfax is an exceptional rather 
 than a common type of his class. Most of our Amer- 
 ican farmers are hard-working men, who go to the 
 other extreme and attempt too much. The result is 
 the same. The farm yields her treasures far too grudg- 
 ingly, and demands sacrifices disproportionately great. 
 Life is on a ledge. Its narrowness appals. Ambitious 
 young men, with Millet's soulless peasant before them 
 as a type of what men may become through ceaseless, 
 unprofitable drudgery, become alarmed, and divert 
 their energies into other channels. Those who remain
 
 viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 on the farm are too often men deficient in education, 
 who feel that they are therefore only fitted for work 
 requiring more muscle than brain. Too late they rea- 
 lize that muscle alone will fail to solve the complicated 
 problems of farm life. 
 
 Silas Collins is apparently a successful farmer, and 
 yet he is only partially successful. His broad acres, 
 keen eye to business, comfortable home and substantial 
 bank account still leave something to be desired in his 
 make-up as a successful farmer. He is not a good 
 man, and therefore not a good neighbor, and conse- 
 quently not a good citizen, and finally, has not the kind 
 of success you would like to have your son attain. 
 
 An honest, straight- for ward, Christian business 
 man is what the author of this book would like to 
 see on every farm in this broad land. One who can 
 at the same time provide for his own and observe the 
 Golden Rule ; one that the best of us would be glad 
 to join fences with and sorry to see die ; a man that 
 believes in the broadest kind of education, and proves 
 it by the kind of sons and daughters that go out, to 
 lives of usefulness, from his home young people with 
 faculties not dwarfed, but developed, and who have 
 learned what is best worth striving for in life. 
 
 On a little farm near Hudson, Ohio, there lives 
 just such a farmer. Of him it need not be said, as 
 has been said of so many who have preached better 
 than they have practiced : " What you are thunders so 
 loudly in my ears that I can not hear what you say." 
 He has lived the life that he has for so many years
 
 INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 been advocating. It is a well-rounded life, a success- 
 ful life in every sense of the word. He owes his suc- 
 cess, mainly, to the all-around education which his wise 
 father gave him, and which, in turn, he has bestowed 
 upon his children. This man is W. I. Chamberlain, 
 associate editor of The Ohio Farmer, and originator 
 of the " Farmers' Institute," which has done so much 
 to raise the standard of farming in many States of 
 the Union. 
 
 The writer knows him best, and shall always 
 remember him most gratefully, as the editor whose 
 kindly suggestions made " The Man with the Hoe " a 
 possibility as a serial, and who, twice afterward, with- 
 out a fee, examined and criticised revised copies of the 
 MS. If the story in its present form ever meets with 
 the smallest meed of success, it will be because his sug- 
 gestions were heeded. If, on the other hand, the book, 
 after all, proves unworthy to bear its title, friends of 
 Mr. C. may find solace in the following (which is 
 not new) : 
 
 Said A : " What a poor sort of a man Z is, with 
 all his religion." 
 
 " Yes," said B ; " but think what he would have 
 been without it !" 
 
 ADAM BLAKE. 
 
 AUGUST, 1903.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION ................ i 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE WEARY WAY HOME ....................... 1 1 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 LELE'S WELCOME HOME ........................ 20 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 30 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 ED ................... ....................... 45 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 LELE'S FIRST DAY AT THE FARM ................ 54 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 How THE DAY ENDED ................. r ....... 74 
 
 (xi)
 
 Xll TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. PAGE 
 
 SUNDAY MORNING 81 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 LELE AND JENNIE 97 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 BETHANY 108 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 VENUS AND DIANA '. . 125 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 S YD AND LELE 142 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 SOME MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS 160 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS 169 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER " . . . 185 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS , .201
 
 TABLE Of CONTENTS. xiii 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. PAGE 
 " A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE " 220 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 AN UNWILLIN' BARKIS 234 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 BROTHER AND SISTER 247 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 AT THE STILE 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 " TILL THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER " .275 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 A SET-TO AND A SET-BACK 290 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 A VACANT CHAIR 314 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 PENITENCE 335
 
 xiv TABLE; of CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. PAGE 
 A CRISIS 348 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 " UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS " 362 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE 374 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 THE SALE 394 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 How THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SYD 410 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 CONCLUSION 419
 
 THE MAN WITH THE HOE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION. 
 
 it was the evening before Commencement day at 
 Oxford Female Seminary. Lelia Fairfax sat alone in 
 her room, gazing dreamily over the emerald-green, 
 shadow-flecked campus. Dear was the scene never 
 dearer than now, when, after four years of study, she 
 was to leave it and begin life in earnest. But, despite 
 broken ties of friendship, the young eyes looked 
 eagerly into the future, and saw there hitherto unex- 
 plored vistas of happiness. The past year had been 
 clouded by a great sorrow : an aunt who had cared for 
 the motherless girl since babyhood had died, and thus 
 the only home she had ever known was broken up, 
 though arrangements had been made for her to take 
 up her residence in the family of her guardian as soon 
 as she left school. For. eighteen years she had not 
 seen her father ; he had written to her once or twice a 
 year, but had never asked her to re-visit the old home- 
 stead until now. A letter inviting her to spend a month 
 with him lay in her lap. She had answered it with a
 
 2 A THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 joyous acceptance, and was now trying to picture life 
 in the dear old Pennsylvania farm house. 
 
 An interruption to her day-dreams occurred ere 
 long. Sophie Howard, her room-mate, came in, and, 
 lightly kissing her upturned, thoughtful face, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, chum. They seem 
 unusually deep." 
 
 " I was thinking," said Lelia, " of what life holds 
 for me beyond our Commencement day ' when the. 
 lights are out, the guests are fled.' " 
 
 "A great deal of happiness, I- am sure," interrupted 
 Sophie, gaily. " Your guardian and his wife are rich 
 and childless, have a beautiful home, are most delight- 
 ful people, and as fond of you as if you were their 
 own daughter. I only wish I stood in your shoes." 
 
 " Sophie, I have just written to my guardian that 
 I have decided to visit my old home in Pennsylvania 
 before I return to St. Louis. I know he will approve 
 of it, for my aunt, knowing how anxious I have always 
 been to see papa, relented just before she died, and 
 advised Mr. Carpenter to permit me to re-visit my 
 Pennsylvania home, if I wished, before returning to 
 St. Louis after my graduation." 
 
 " Your aunt was rather odd, I believe. But I never 
 could see how she could completely separate you from 
 your own father." 
 
 " Did I never tell you the story ? Auntie never liked 
 to talk of papa, and reticence on the subject became 
 habitual with me.
 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION. 3 
 
 " You see it happened in this way : Auntie and 
 mamma had made a foolish compact never to marry, 
 in which their elder brother joined. But mamma 
 broke her promise and ran away to marry papa, who 
 was never afterward liked by either auntie or uncle. 
 Mamma was their idol, and they forgave her, of course. 
 Uncle went to St. Louis to practice law shortly after- 
 ward, and mamma finally persuaded auntie to make her 
 home with her. But in three years poor mamma died, 
 and auntie, nearly heart-broken, resolved to devote her 
 life to the care of my baby brother and myself." 
 
 " But that didn't last ?" Sophie suggested, half 
 smiling. 
 
 " No. Papa, never very popular with his sister-in- 
 law, put the last feather in the cap of his offenses by 
 marrying again in about a year. Auntie could not, of 
 course, endure to live in a house where another woman 
 occupied her idolized sister's place, and she, after a 
 quarrel with papa, determined at once to go to her 
 brother in St. Louis. She could not, however, bear to 
 give up both Eddie and me, so she prevailed upon papa 
 to give me to her, promising to rear and educate me 
 as her own, and at her death leave me her property. 
 She chose me rather than Eddie because I resembled 
 mamma more. Papa was to write to me once or twice 
 a year, but must never see me while she lived. He, 
 having married a widow with two small children, 
 thought it wise to consent to this arrangement, and 
 consequently I have never seen him since." 
 
 "Your aunt died last summer?"
 
 4 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 "Yes, just before I returned to school. My uncle 
 had died the previous year. So for the last few months 
 I have not had a relative on earth whose features or 
 tones I could recall. It makes me heart-sick to hear 
 the other girls talking of their parents and brothers and 
 sisters, while I " the clear voice faltered, and a tear 
 fell on Sophie's sleeve. 
 
 " Would your step-mother make you welcome, do 
 you think?" asked Sophie, in tones of sympathy. 
 
 " She died two years ago, and papa has expressed 
 a determination, this time, never to marry again." 
 
 " Strange your father is not your guardian." 
 
 " My aunt, having inherited her brother's small 
 estate, left all to me in such a way that she thought 
 papa could never acquire any control over it, appoint- 
 ing uncle's law partner, Mr. Carpenter, my guardian. 
 But I do not think papa cares, for he wrote me recently 
 the kindest of invitations to re-visit my old home." 
 
 " Needless to ask if you wish to go." 
 
 " Sophie, I am anxious to go to Pennsylvania. The 
 desire to know and be with my father and my darling 
 baby brother has become almost unendurable. Will 
 you believe it? Auntie absolutely forbade me ever to 
 write to Eddie. She knew he could never be anything 
 to her, and thought he might in some way influence me 
 against her. Besides, he looks like the Fairfaxes, papa 
 says, and that fact alone was sufficient to prejudice poor 
 auntie against him." 
 
 "Well, Lele, you occupy a strange position. I
 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION. 5 
 
 rather envy you the acquisition you expect. How 
 many brothers and sisters?" 
 
 " ' Seven in all ' are they, and I feel as though I 
 could not wait another day to meet them.. From what 
 papa says, I think the Fairfax homestead must be 
 really enchanting. It is, he says, one of the most beau- 
 tiful country homes in Pennsylvania. The scenery is 
 beautiful ; the society refined and cultured. He referred 
 to the free, joyous country life in such a way as to 
 make me wild to get away from the smoky, city atmos- 
 phere into the real, broad-minded, deep-hearted coun- 
 try. Face to face with Nature, people are so artlessly 
 happy, Sophie ; they know so little of the cruel, selfish 
 world that they have scarcely anything to disturb the 
 even tenor of their way their whole lives long; the 
 seasons form for them one continuous ' Nature's serial 
 story.' " 
 
 Sophie raised her eyebrows a trifle and looked 
 thoughtful. 
 
 " Perfectly secure in their living," Lelia went on, 
 confidently, "they have few worries and no crush- 
 ing calamities such as hang constantly over the heads 
 of city people. And, best of all, a whole community 
 know and visit each other. There is such a secure and 
 pleasant intimacy possible as could never exist in any 
 city neighborhood. Think of life minus the city dis- 
 cord, jangling, petty social and political feuds and jeal- 
 ousies, without its temptations to dissipation. There 
 you may confidently look for broad Christian charity :
 
 6 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 for simple, consistent, child-like faith in God and man." 
 " I have always thought that country people ought 
 to be happy," said Sophie, with a shade of skepticism 
 in her voice. 
 
 " Ought? My dear, they are. They can't help it. 
 They have the great peace, the subtle power of Nature, 
 perpetually about them. Their lives of quiet, contented 
 toil fit them for right living. The pure air, the sing- 
 ing birds, and the majestic tranquillity of the eternal 
 hills are sufficient in themselves to produce a negative 
 happiness." 
 
 Lele had never lived in the country since she had 
 arrived at years of discretion. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Two elderly women a fat German- American and 
 a little brown, wrinkled beldam, with an old-fashioned 
 traveling-basket in her lap, a glib tongue in her head, 
 and a shrewd twinkle in her keen black eyes sat in 
 the waiting-room at Harrod's station, gossiping so in- 
 tently that neither of them observed a young lady who 
 entered some minutes after the 4:30 train passed up. 
 
 It was Lelia Fairfax, who had been building air- 
 castles all the way from Oxford, based on the grand 
 ovation she was to receive from her father's household 
 at the station assembled. She knew that they lived at 
 no great distance, and half fancied the entire family 
 and a few of their neighbors would turn out en masse 
 to welcome her home. She had been told by certain 
 Keystone girls that that was the custom where they 
 lived. Lele inferred that it was a state practice. But,
 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION. 7 
 
 lo ! not a soul had come forth to greet her ! What could 
 be the reason? 
 
 The light of pleased expectancy had all died out of 
 her countenance ; it would indeed have been difficult to 
 recognize in the drooping, disappointed face, the same 
 that had beamed with such captivating smiles when she 
 stepped from the train a few moments ago. 
 
 The loafers whom every passenger train attracts, 
 even in the country, quickly dispersed ; the very ticket 
 agent and telegraph operator vanished. It was such 
 a still, hot afternoon that one could have heard the blue- 
 bottles buzzing in the grimy windows but for the two 
 old gossips, who were evidently awaiting the down 
 train. Every syllable was plainly audible to the girl 
 in the corner, whose attention was riveted by almost 
 the first word she heard : 
 
 " Want to know ef I know anything of Fairfaxes, 
 eh ?" the little wrinkled woman was saying. " Yes, I 
 know considerable. Sammy's wife used t' live there 
 'fore she's married, and thro' her I gethered a right 
 smart chance o' news. They're run down turrible uv 
 late year, I warrant ye. Ome's father, ole Mose Fair- 
 fax, was a fine, portly old feller six foot an' a rail- 
 cut in his stockin's ef he was an inch an' proud ez 
 Pompey. The' wa'n't nobody could lay his farmin' in 
 the shade raised a heap o' fine cattle an' sheep an' 
 wheat ; an' ez fer fruit, I've never seed the beat on't. 
 It's amazin' what wheat harvests ole Mose uster hev, 
 too. 
 
 " I kin mind when they used t' harvest with sickles.
 
 8 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 \Yhen cuttin' time come, men would flock in by the 
 hundreds, each with his sickle in han' ready t' hire. 
 'Feared like the hull county wanted t' be in at the 
 harvesting an' no wonder, for the'- be a hull raft o' 
 women folks bilin' hams out in camp kittles, roastin' 
 pigs, pottin' lamb, an' stewin' chicken, an' makin' cus- 
 tards an' pound cakes t' kill an' cripple. 
 
 " The tables fer the men was sot under the trees in 
 the front yard, an' of all the pourin' of coffee an' helpin' 
 of plates, ye never see the beat! They'd eat till they 
 couldn't hold no more, toppin' off on cherry bounce, an' 
 mebbe gittin' kinder loud in their chaff to'des the last, 
 fer they held that 'all jokes wuz free in harvest.' Then 
 they'd take a rest stretched on the grass, smokin' like 
 chimbleys, or mebbe hev a set-to at 'bear-haulin" 'fore 
 they went back to the field. It wuz a purty sight, /'// 
 tell ye, to see their sickles aTflashin' in the yaller wheat. 
 An' th' sheaves they did bind in them days! None o' 
 yer self-binder bundles, with th' heads an' tails both 
 stickin' th' same way, like enough. At ever' round 
 they'd up an' take a swig o' whisky, then at it agin 
 lickct\'-spht! Oh, Mose knowed how to git money out 
 o' th' farm ; but when he died an' th' children scattered 
 off, Ome, bein' th' youngest, got most of th' land, but 
 'twas a mistake lettin' him hev it, fer Ome ain't no 
 great shakes at nothin', an' farmin's less in his line 
 than 'most anything else. He's allus runnin' fer some 
 little office or other, an' 'pears to think his farm 'U run 
 itself if he 'tends to public duties. 
 
 " I used to be there considerable six seven vear
 
 ANTICIPATION AND REALIZATION. 9 
 
 ago. Tude wuz a baby settin' on th' floor last time I 
 wuz there. They've ben runnin' behind ever sence. 
 Si Collins holds a mortgage of $5,000 on their place, 
 an' if 'twasn't that Syd keeps th' interest paid up, th' 
 hull kit an' tucket uv 'urn 'ud be boosted cl'ar off th' 
 premises ; an' goodness only knows what 'd become of 
 'em, they's sich a raft on 'em." 
 
 If good Mrs. Cahill had been looking at poor, 
 incredulous Lele, she would have been astonished into 
 silence by the expression of the girl's amazed, sorrow- 
 stricken face. 
 
 " They're in a bad row fer stumps, sure," said Mrs. 
 CahilFs auditor. 
 
 4 
 
 " I guess," responded Mrs. Cahill, " they would get 
 on agreeabler among theirselves ef th' boys espe- 
 cially Ed wuz pleasanter. Sal could stan' Clem an' 
 Charlie, roughish ez they air ; but Ed ! he's th' surliest 
 dog, she vows, she ever had to set at th' table with. 
 Allus ready to git miffed at somethin' an' bust out 
 a-cussin'. And they say th' way he plays cards an' 
 drinks whisky is a caution. Him an' Ome never could 
 'gee,' and I wouldn't be surprised to hear of him leavin' 
 fer parts unknown any day. I actilly wouldn't put it 
 much a-past him to take one o' th' horses with him. 
 He'll never get nothin' else, goodness knows. Ed 
 seems to hev a nateral haterd fer farm life, but is fer- 
 ever tinkerin' with wheels. Sal says he'd some kind 
 of a buzz-saw with a treddle onto it fixed up in his room 
 when she lived there, an' of all th' rattlin' an' bangin' 
 an' thumpin' that ever she heerd in all her born days,
 
 10 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 he kep' up th' worst ! Right in the busiest season he'd 
 be took down with th' inventin' fever, an' be in amongst 
 his ole wheels, poundin' and whirrin' away to beat 
 sixty. Sal says th' noise he made wuz like t' split yer 
 haed ; an* then like enough whatever he wuz workin' 
 at wouldn't go jest right, an' he'd fling it on the floor 
 an' bust it all to smash. Then down stairs he'd come, 
 swearin' an' kickin' at ever'thing in his way, an' fling 
 hisself out o' th' house sulky ez all possessed." 
 
 " What a trial he must be !" 
 
 " Yes, he's a trial, an' Jen hes no patience with 
 him, ez his stepmother had while she lived. Ed wuz 
 middlin' well behaved until she died. He's past 
 redemption now."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE WEARY WAY HOME. 
 
 The 5 o'clock train and its attendant bustle and 
 confusion had rolled into the realms of silence. The 
 woman who knew the history of the Fairfax family so 
 well was gone, and was now, no doubt, " noratin* " the 
 annals of some other family to her attentive listener as 
 the train bore them on. Passengers had been met by 
 their friends; no one was left neglected and solitary 
 but poor Lele. Again the blue-bottles struck up their 
 dismal concert in the window. The sun-baked plat- 
 form was empty. The clock ticked, messages went 
 over the wires. Nothing occurred to break the monot- 
 ony until the ticket agent glanced in through the open 
 door before going to supper. 
 
 " Had any one been there to inquire for Lelia Fair- 
 fax?" he was asked. 
 
 No one had been. 
 
 " Could a conveyance be procured ?" 
 
 " There is no conveyance," he replied. " Where do 
 you go?" 
 
 " To the Fairfax farm," settling her lips into firmer 
 curves. " I can walk. Please direct me." She could 
 not trust her voice to utter a long sentence. 
 
 " You go two miles up the crick," he replied, point-
 
 12 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ing to a road that crept across the cinder-blackened 
 track and lost itself among the shadowy northern hills ; 
 " then turn square to the right an' follow a cross-road 
 half a mile. A big ash tree in a fence corner on the 
 right marks the boundary between the Fairfax an' 
 Collins farms. Not far beyond that you'll see a big 
 brick house with a lot of trees around it. That's the 
 Fairfax place." 
 
 Lele thanked him and hurried away, having pre- 
 viously requested him to take charge of her trunks until 
 called for. 
 
 The railroad lay in a valley, and west of the station 
 rose a high hill crowned with chestnut trees. Above 
 this hill, like a great golden ball, in a sky all amber and 
 unclouded, hung the descending sun. The shadows 
 were growing long. Soon it would be sunset in the 
 valley, and before her lay three miles or so of unex- 
 plored territory! Huge cottonwood trees screened the 
 dimpling water of the creek, and made the road look 
 dim and eerie. As the day waned, their bare, white 
 trunks looked more and more ghostly ; the way seemed 
 unfrequented, and at this hour was undeniably lonely. 
 
 Lele walked fast at first, in a tumult of emotion. 
 Her ears yet tingled, her heart burned with the mem- 
 ory of that hateful, surely untrue, gossip ; she had 
 never heard such things intimated before. The possi- 
 bility of their being true overwhelmed her with grief 
 and amazement. No sooner was she alone on the quiet 
 road than she burst into a passion of tears. 
 
 Some miserable moments passed. Then the storm
 
 THE WEARY WAY HOME. 13 
 
 blew over. Lele, never morbid, quickly regained her 
 tranquillity, and proceeded in a more hopeful frame of 
 mind. 
 
 " What is the use to make myself utterly miserable 
 over imaginary troubles?" she thought. "Gossip is 
 nearly always untrue, and I dare say when I reach 
 home I shall find that my telegram was missent. In 
 an hour I may be entirely relieved of all these appre- 
 hensions which I now feel. The scenery is as delight- 
 ful as I expected. What right have I to doubt the 
 truth of the rest of papa's letter?" 
 
 The road wound among hills beautiful with the rich 
 verdure of June. Their steeply sloping pasture fields 
 supported a roving population of sheep and cattle, 
 though here and there was a little "bench" newly set 
 with tobacco. As she advanced, broad, cultivated fields 
 appeared. Almost every turn brought into view some 
 farm house, with the usual accompaniment of orchard, 
 garden and outbuildings. Wheat fields golden with 
 ripeness spread now over the less steeply sloping hill- 
 sides. A peace-inspiring scene, enlivened by the crow- 
 ing of barnyard fowls, the distant tinkling of sheep- 
 bells, or the melodious notes of a supper-horn. 
 
 She met no one except some farmers riding home- 
 ward on their fat plow horses, which looked almost as 
 content as their check-shirted masters. 
 
 " Country people ought to be happy," she mused. 
 
 " Can you tell me how far it is to Mr. Omar Fair- 
 fax's?" she presently asked of a small boy who V' n< * 
 "fishin' for pollywogs" by the roadside.
 
 14 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 The young fisherman eyed her for a moment as if 
 mentally debating whether to answer her civilly or 
 bespatter her fine hat with mud. Something in her 
 appearance luckily inclined him to leniency, and he 
 condescended to reply in an absurd piping treble : 
 
 " I don't take no stock in the Fairfaxes. They 
 won't pay my pa what they owe him, an' I natrally 
 despise cheats." 
 
 " Indeed !" Lele moved off a few steps. 
 
 " But never mind," the fisherman added. " I c'n 
 just as well direct you as not, since I'm having no luck 
 with my fish," and he gave her some very explicit direc- 
 tions. " If I were you, I wouldn't visit those people," 
 he added ; "they zi'on't pay their debts." 
 
 " Perhaps they can't," said Lele, feeling that lump 
 rise in her throat again. 
 
 " Pa'll find a way to make 'em 'fore the ' "nv flies," 
 replied the urchin. " We're goin' to take their place." 
 He had a most astonishing way of talking in italics, 
 throwing in an occasional exclamation point by a per- 
 fectly inimitable manipulation of the eyebrows. 
 
 " Indeed," said Lele, moving off a few more steps. 
 
 " I hope you ain't goin' to visit Jennie Fairfax," the 
 small boy continued; "she's the hatcf idlest girl alive!" 
 
 " I am, though," said Lele. 
 
 " Well, I'm real glad to see the old thing spited 
 some way," replied the sprite, in his ludicrous cres- 
 cendo. "She Jiatcs visitors!" 
 
 Lele went on. rapt in uncomfortable meditation. 
 
 The ash tree by the division fence was at length
 
 THE; WEARY WAY HOME. 15 
 
 passed. Lele, pausing beneath it to rest, observed that 
 a drove of hogs in the Collins premises had made a 
 breach in the fence, and several were now in the 
 adjoining field rooting up potatoes. 
 
 It was now sunset, and the last red beams lighted up 
 the division fence with remarkable distinctness. Lele 
 involuntarily counted the panels from the road to the 
 broken place in the fence, and hurried on, for the roof 
 that had sheltered her in babyhood was now in sight, 
 and she was impelled forward by a frantic desire to 
 know the worst at once. 
 
 At last, aching with fatigue and faint with hunger, 
 she reached the big red gate that formed the western 
 entrance to a broad drive, fringed with locust trees, 
 which led past the Fairfax homestead and thence to 
 the barn and stables. v 
 
 The c;;: ''g-ht had by this time quite vanished from 
 the landscape, but under the glamour of the soft sum- 
 mer twilight the place struck Lele as being singularly 
 beautiful. The wide, sloping lawn was deeply, vividly 
 green, and out of its soft turf rose clumps of graceful 
 shrubbery, finely tapering, delicate evergreens, whose 
 branches swept the ground in the way Nature intended. 
 A true landscape gardener had set the trees and 
 guarded them from distorting pruning. Magnificent 
 elms and maples were grouped about the gables, cast- 
 ing upon the wide, pillared veranda a sylvan depth of 
 shadow even at noon. English ivy clambered over the 
 chimneys, grapevines clustered thick about the rear 
 porch and over the picturesque well-house ; while the
 
 l6 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 veranda pillars were wreathed with honeysuckle, fra- 
 grant with the perfume of a thousand creamy blossoms. 
 
 Lele experienced a keen pang as she realized that 
 this was home her home she had hoped to call it 
 and that it was soon to pass from the hands of the 
 Fairfaxes, who had bought it from the red men of the 
 forest in the days of William Penn, and had retained 
 it ever since in unbroken descent from father to son. 
 
 Lele had never before realized how dependent she 
 was what nice provisions had been made to prevent 
 her father from ever getting control of a penny of Miss 
 Roxy's money. 
 
 A gate far down the lane closed with a sharp 
 clang, and a young man came toward her with a bridle 
 thrown over his arm. He was a splendidly propor- 
 tioned fellow, tall and broad shouldered ; he walked 
 easily, with long, graceful strides, and carried his head 
 with unconscious grace. There was an elastic strength 
 in his step, an indicated power in the dark gray eyes 
 under their straight, well-defined brows. Evidently he 
 did not see her, for he was walking fast, with his dark, 
 unsmiling, rather severe face uplifted, while his eyes 
 scanned the evening sky, in search perhaps of rain 
 clouds along the horizon. Your born farmer is ever 
 on the lookout for rain indications, whether it be rain 
 or dry weather that is needed. 
 
 He was close upon her before he saw her hold- 
 ing the red-barred gate back against the light of the 
 evening sky. He started. 
 
 She was curiously regarding him filled with an
 
 THE WEARY WAY HOME. I/ 
 
 inexpressible longing that this might be the brother 
 whom she dimly recalled as a darling fair-haired baby. 
 
 " Oh, Eddie !" she cried. " Don't you recognize 
 your sister?" barely resisting the temptation to throw 
 herself into his arms and sob out her full heart on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Syd, you mean," corrected the other, reddening 
 with embarrassment, but taking the outstretched hands 
 in both of his. " How in the world did you ever get 
 here? I was just going to meet you." 
 
 "I walked," rather faintly. 
 
 " Walked ! From the station ?" The color rose hot 
 into his face. 
 
 " It doesn't matter," said Lele, gently. 
 
 " But you should have waited." 
 
 " I concluded you had failed to receive my telegram. 
 Are papa and all well?" 
 
 " Quite well, thank you." Syd looked pale now, 
 as though smitten with shame. He glanced twice at 
 her as he closed the gate, each time with added distress 
 and regret. " How tired you look ! You haven't been 
 home for years and years. What a welcome!" 
 
 "Oh, don't, don't mention it," cired Lele, turning 
 toward him with a look of real good will. " I'll never 
 think of it again." 
 
 "/ shall, for I ought to have been there to meet 
 you. We are harvesting, but have no right to plead 
 'too busy' at a time like this. I regret it more than 
 7 can say." 
 
 4< You needn't, for by walking I happened to see 
 
 12)
 
 l8 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 a hole in the fence by your potato patch. You call it 
 a patch, don't you?" 
 
 " Yes," said Syd, smiling. " If quite large, you 
 might refer to it as a field." 
 
 " This was quite large, and several hogs were in it, 
 rooting up the potatoes." 
 
 Syd uttered an exclamation under his breath that 
 sounded like " Confound it !" and his face clouded. 
 Lele observed for the first time how very tired he 
 looked. 
 
 " I'm so sorry I couldn't have driven them out for 
 you," she said. " But I don't think I would know how. 
 And I'm rather afraid of animals." 
 
 " Your timidity would vanish if you had driven 
 stock as much as I have," Syd replied. 
 
 " You say stock, do you ?" mused Lele. " I've 
 never been in the country enough to pick up the farm 
 vernacular. But I think I could soon learn." 
 
 " You could learn the meaning of the word stock 
 almost any morning before breakfast," said the young 
 farmer, somewhat bitterly. " Half a dozen neighbors 
 are liable at an early hour to send in word that our 
 stock have been making inroads on their premises." 
 
 " Is that the way farming goes ?" Lele asked. " I 
 should think it would be unpleasant." 
 
 Syd turned his head aside to conceal a smile at this 
 naii'c remark. 
 
 "A good many things about farming are unpleas- 
 ant," he said, and a sigh followed the smile.
 
 THE WEARY WAY HOME. IQ 
 
 " It doesn't always rain when you want dry weather, 
 does it?" Lele asked. 
 
 " Not quite. But a misfit bargain in weather is the 
 usual rule. Only you've got to take it at first hand, 
 cash down." 
 
 " I hope Syd isn't a weather grumbler," thought 
 Lele. " I've heard they are dreadful." 
 
 They ascended the veranda steps in silence. How 
 lonely and romantic the old house looked in the violet 
 twilight for dusk falls fast under the shadow of 
 large trees. Through the boughs the evening star was 
 shining. A feeling of desolation and friendlessness, of 
 being very far away from home among cold strangers, 
 struck through Lele. It was doubtless because the 
 house was so still and dark. Not a light beamed from 
 any window, and in the empty rooms a few mosquitoes 
 droned. Fireflies glimmered in the shrubbery ; near 
 the steps a glow worm had lit his little lamp. One of 
 the neighbor's dogs barked monotonously, ceaselessly. 
 
 Syd, going forward into the long, shadowy hall, 
 struck a light, invited Lels into the parlor, and excused 
 himself to look for the rest of the family, who were all 
 obviously out of the house. 
 
 Not a sound indicated the presence of another 
 human being. Lele, dreadfully fatigued, sank into an 
 arm-chair near the window, and could only keep herself 
 awake by fancying that she heard a ghost coming down 
 stairs. This place, so solitary, and pervaded by a 
 silence so unearthly, must surelv be haunted.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 LELE'S WELCOME HOME. 
 
 Out in the cowpen, at the end of the garden, Syd 
 found his sisters, Jennie and Cora, milking the cows, 
 while Tude, the baby and pet of the family, a curly- 
 haired maiden of six or eight, kept agitating, by means 
 of an elder branch, the buffalo gnats that swarmed on 
 the flanks of the much-enduring cud-chewers. Syd's 
 voice startled them. 
 
 " Girls, what do you think ! Lele has come by her- 
 self walked all the way out alone. Isn't it awful?" 
 
 " What is so awful about it ? Haven't I done the 
 same myself many a time without horrifying anybody ?" 
 
 It was Jennie who spoke. She was milking fast, 
 with both hands, into a well-scoured tin pail, and did 
 not pause or turn around at the news. Jen was a slen- 
 der girl, dressed in faded calico, with a blue gingham 
 sunbonnet pulled down over her eyes. The curtain of 
 the bonnet was frayed almost to strings, and her sleeves 
 were patched. Dogged enough she looked sitting there 
 on her three-legged stool. 
 
 " Oh, Syd, you ought to have hurried," said 
 Cora, abandoning herself to astonishment and dismay. 
 "Won't father be mad!" 
 
 (20)
 
 WELCOME HOME. 21 
 
 " I had no idea it was so late," Syd replied, in a 
 worried tone. " We must make it up by treating her 
 particularly nice, now she's here. Do hurry up, girls. 
 I've got to run over to the potato patch and put 
 Collinses' hogs out." 
 
 " In again, after you fixed the fence all morning!" 
 cried Cora. 
 
 " I believe Collins lets 'em in his own self," added 
 Tude. 
 
 Jennie never turned her head or spoke, except to 
 admonish Cora to go on with her work. 
 
 "Do stop, Jinsey, and go speak to her," pleaded Syd. 
 
 " I can't!" in smothered tones from the depth of 
 the pathetic-looking old sunbonnet. 
 
 " Don't act so, Jen. You'll like her when you know 
 her. She's a perfect lady, nice as she can be." 
 
 " Why shouldn't she be a lady ? She's had advan- 
 tages enough," and fierce tears rolled over her round 
 cheeks as she thought of her own lack of advantages. 
 
 "Advantages don't always make ladies of women. 
 And in any case, her father invited her here, as I guess 
 you know, and we've got to entertain her." 
 
 " I'm tired of entertaining people that he invites 
 here. He never considers in the least whether we want 
 them. And I'm sure none of us want his fine lady 
 daughter, with her money and style and education. It's 
 the feather too much, 7 say!" 
 
 " What's the use to go on so, now she's here ?" 
 Syd spoke, despondently. " You are growing to be a 
 perfect misanthrope."
 
 22 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 { s 
 
 " I don't care !" cried Jennie, in a voice of contained 
 fury. " I don't care for anything or anybody !" 
 
 " Don't ever let me hear you speak again like that, 
 Jean Fairfax," Syd spoke, in a changed tone, and his 
 eyes flashed. It was a tone that made even rebellious 
 Jennie quail and tremble down under her drooping sun- 
 bonnet. Tude looked scared, and redoubled her exer- 
 tions as far as possible, and Cora, hitherto idle, returned 
 to her work. 
 
 But it was long before Syd got the family assembled 
 to welcome the coming guest. After the really indis- 
 pensable evening work was attended to and all were 
 at liberty to meet their guest, another difficulty arose. 
 The girls u'onld dress up and the boys would not. 
 Syd contrived finally to get the boys to look half-way 
 respectable, and the girls not to look too fine. But all 
 were agreed on one point: they would not make any 
 "spread" over their guest. 
 
 Little Tude was the only exception. Fond of com- 
 pany and anxious to please, she readily consented to 
 bear Lele company while the rest were "fixing up," 
 and in a few minutes Syd reappeared at the parlor door 
 with the flower of the family at his heels. 
 
 " I've brought Tude to talk to you," he said. " The 
 other girls are busy, but will be in shortly, and father 
 hasn't got home yet. Caught on a jury, as usual, I 
 suppose. I'll tell Ed you've come. Here, Susanna, 
 tell your new sister how many kittens and pigs and 
 chickens you have." 
 
 Lele and Tude were soon engaged in an animated
 
 USUC'S WELCOME HOME. 23 
 
 conversation upon the cats; chickens, pigs and calves 
 of the establishment. A great beetle came whirring in 
 through the open window and went sailing around the 
 room, evidently bent on knocking its brains out against 
 the wall. Lele dodged it once or twice, and finally, 
 when it fell to the floor, involuntarily put her foot on 
 it, and crushed it lifeless. 
 
 " Oh, poor beetle !" said the tender-hearted Lele. 
 " I've spoiled your whole life,, haven't I ?" 
 
 " Pooh !" laughed Tude. " It's nothing but a 
 bumpin' bug. We kill 'em lots o' times. You ought 
 to see Jen roll out o' bed in the middle of the night an' 
 smash 'em with a broom." 
 
 " It's a pity to kill harmless things when they are so 
 happy," sighed Lele. " That beetle was having a real 
 picnic all by himself." 
 
 " Was he ? I never thought of that," said the child, 
 soberly. " But it's no use to mention it to Jinks. She 
 says killin' 'em relieves her mind. An' I guess relievin' 
 a person's mind is of more use than savin' a bumpin' 
 bug, isn't it?" 
 
 "A.t length the door opened and Syd came in, fol- 
 lowed by his sisters, whom he introduced as Jean and 
 Cora. Their reception chilled her to the heart. They 
 advanced scarcely a step into the room, did not seem 
 to see her outstretched hand, and sat down in silence 
 near the door. Syd for an instant glowed with anger, 
 but seeing that Jennie was in one of her very worst 
 moods, and that Cora seemed resolved to imitate her, 
 he sat down near Lele and resolutely maintained half
 
 24 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 the conversation. It was of no use to expect the girls 
 to talk ; they wouldn't, and Syd's face burned with 
 shame for them. 
 
 Lele observed them with wonder bordering on in- 
 credulity. They were nice looking young girls, Cora 
 about fifteen, Jean, or Jennie, as she was usually called, 
 three or four years older. Cora was fair and chubby. 
 She had blue eyes, her face was round, and her long, 
 light brown braids of hair reached nearly to her knees. 
 Lele thought of Godiva, and longed to see that glorious 
 mane shaken out in all its rippling luster over the 
 child's shoulders. Nothing about her indicated tem- 
 per ; indeed, she would rather have talked to Lele than 
 not, but loyalty to her injured and long-suffering sister 
 kept her silent. Jean was ambitious, but her ambitions 
 had all been thwarted ; and jealousy of her step-sister's 
 advantages had filled her with such an intense dislike 
 for that young lady that she considered it a real con- 
 cession to sit in her presence. As for pretending to like 
 Lele Fairfax, that was out of the question. Jean's best 
 and worst trait was her uncompromising sincerity. It 
 is a commendable trait in most persons, but the truth is, 
 it made a disagreeable girl of Jean McKnight. 
 
 She had a very striking face one that would have 
 been handsome with a winning expression to soften 
 it, and a pair of large, wonderful eyes, of an intense 
 blackness, under their fringed lashes. Lele noticed 
 what a fine, well-poised head she had, and how alive 
 her face was with quick intelligence ; how she seemed, 
 in spite of effort to the contrary, to listen hungrily to
 
 WELCOME HOME. 25 
 
 what Lele was saying about her school and the West. 
 When places and persons of note were mentioned, or 
 famous books and pictures referred to, Jennie almost 
 forgot the role she was playing in her desire to join in 
 the conversation ; but each time she checked herself and 
 remained stolidly silent. 
 
 Lele's father had been called away on business, and 
 would not return that night ; but in despite of the gossip 
 to which she had unwillingly listened, she had faint 
 hopes of a kindly greeting from Ed. As for Cora and 
 Jean, their presence weighed upon her like an incubus. 
 Much as she had longed for them to appear, she would 
 now have felt their absence a relief. 
 
 At length, during a pause, in which Jennie had 
 looked as unapproachable as an iceberg, and Cora had 
 gazed at the lamp, as though unconscious of the pres- 
 ence of a guest, the door opened abruptly, and a short, 
 heavy-set, stolid youth of eighteen or so walked up to 
 Lele with the dogged air of one who wishes to get 
 through an unpleasant duty as soon as possible. 
 
 Lele rose, trembling and faint with contending emo- 
 tions. This was her "darling baby brother," for whom 
 she had longed all these years. She held out both 
 hands in an appealing way, and tears sprang to her 
 eyes. Syd alone noticed how agitated she was. 
 
 " I wouldn't have knowed you only fer the photo 
 you sent pap," Ed said, shaking hands awkwardly 
 and hastily backing off. " Sorry he ain't at home," 
 he added, as though he felt something additional was 
 required and he didn't know what
 
 26 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Lele could scarce frame a reply. The thought of 
 meeting her own brother so coldly hurt her worse than 
 even the meeting with Cora and Jean. It was with the 
 utmost difficulty that she repressed a sob. And worse 
 than all, she felt that she was regarded with a kind of 
 wondering contempt by all present except Syd, who 
 looked downcast and chagrined. 
 
 Before she could feel sure enough of her voice to 
 make conversation safe again the younger boys came 
 in. Little Clem said "How-de-do" bashfully and crept 
 into a corner back of Jennie ; but Charlie, who had the 
 brightest face of any of them, shook hands with real 
 friendliness. 
 
 " I hope you're not tired," he said, in a voice very 
 like Syd's. 
 
 This bit of tardy, though unexpected, kindness so 
 wrought upon poor Lele that she was sure for a 
 moment that she would disgrace herself in the eyes of 
 this critical family and sob outright. She dared not give 
 him a smile, for she knew the tears would drown it. 
 And Charlie thought her a very proud girl. Worse 
 still, the bored look which she was obliged to assume 
 as a mask for her real feelings struck fire from Jennie's 
 flinty heart and consumed therein the last fragment of 
 her hospitality. 
 
 " She looks as if she detested the last one of us," 
 she thought. " So much the better. We shan't be 
 bothered with her a great while. I wish I could have 
 met her at the door and told her she wasn't wanted. 
 She'll not get. much pampering here, I'll let her know."
 
 LELES WELCOME HOME. 27 
 
 Another dreadful pause ensued. Syd racked his 
 brains in vain for something to say, while more beetles 
 came in and tried to stir the oppressive silence. Lele 
 grew paler. She was aching with fatigue and her eye- 
 lids were heavy. Sometimes she felt that it was all a 
 horrid dream. It was impossible to believe that what 
 was transpiring was real. That black-eyed girl in the 
 corner seemed to be transfixing her like Medusa, and 
 Lele had some indefinable fears of turning to stone. 
 
 Lele's only consolation was the old king's unfailing 
 motto : "And this, too, shall pass." Dull evenings, like 
 dull sermons, can but end if one will wait long enough, 
 as do all things mundane. And in time this one came 
 to an end. 
 
 Jennie, bringing a lamp, offered, with some show of 
 alacrity, to conduct her weary and disheartened guest 
 to her room. Lele hesitated an instant, glad as she 
 was to seek her pillow. Disappointed as she was, she 
 was yet too young and healthy to forget that she had 
 an appetite, which for hours had been clamoring for 
 food. But Jennie had evidently forgotten all about 
 supper, and Lele, after all, had not the courage to 
 remind her of it. She followed her step-sister upstairs 
 without a word. 
 
 At the top of the stairs was a long hall, having 
 several doors opening from it. To the farthest of 
 these Jennie conducted her, and taking a key from her 
 pocket, unlocked the door, and stood aside motioning 
 her guest to enter.
 
 28 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Here's the lamp," said she, coldly. " You'd better 
 open the windows. Good-night." 
 
 " Could I trouble you for a pitcher of water?" Lele 
 ventured to inquire. She could hardly keep from add- 
 ing, "and a piece of bread and butter" ! But Jennie's 
 manner made such a request impossible, and Lele 
 resolved to fast until breakfast. 
 
 Jennie went to bring the water, and Lele turned her 
 attention to her surroundings. The room was one of 
 those "spare rooms," papered with the rich, embossed 
 paper of a past generation, once beautiful, but now 
 broken and dropping from the wall in places. It was 
 considered "fine" twenty-five or thirty years ago, but 
 now, with its damask-curtained bed and stern-looking 
 family portraits, like the parlor, was antiquated, and 
 glomily suggestive of uncanny tales. 
 
 Feeling rather sick and faint, she set the lamp on 
 the queer old-fashioned washstand and opened the win- 
 dows ; the air was stifling, having that close, musty 
 smell, which always characterizes long shut-up rooms, 
 and which had so oppressed her in the parlor. 
 
 Breathing the pure air revived her strength, but, 
 alas ! awoke her hunger keenly. Lele felt half fam- 
 ished. She rummaged her little telescope in vain for 
 a morsel of candy or fruit to appease that gnawing 
 appetite. 
 
 " I don't remember ever to have been so hungry," 
 she thought. 
 
 It was the first time she had ever had such an expe- 
 rience as this ; the world had smiled upon her hitherto.
 
 LELES WELCOME HOME. 29 
 
 Even at school she had been well cared for and happy. 
 And here, in her father's house, she -was denied not 
 only the affectionate welcome she had been led to 
 expect, but food when she was hungry ! Something 
 was wrong, dreadfully wrong. She began to believe 
 that the old gossip at the station had told the truth 
 about the Fairfaxes. 
 
 Lele knelt before one of the windows, rested her 
 chin on her folded arms, and gazed at the stars that 
 shone down from heaven like friendly eyes. Nature 
 .was in her most benignant mood to-night, and the tired 
 and home-sick girl was soothed by it. The warm air, 
 drenched with the perfume of rose and honeysuckle, 
 came to her like a benediction of the night.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 By the time Jennie reached the foot of the stairs her 
 brothers and sisters were all assembled in the dining- 
 room, deep in discussion over the merits and demerits 
 of their visitor. 
 
 " Well, she's pretty, anyhow," said little Tude, as 
 Jennie entered the room. 
 
 " Pretty, indeed !" demurred Charlie, making a wry 
 face ; he had not liked her. 
 
 " Why, I thought you were stuck on her," said 
 Cora, in her slow, liquid tones. " You shook hands 
 with her friendlier than any of us." 
 
 "And got snubbed.for his pains!" added Jennie, as 
 she brushed past him. 
 
 " Jen's always seeing people act snubby," observed 
 Clem, wrinkling up his funny little nose. He was three 
 years younger than Charlie, who was thirteen, and very 
 much like him. 
 
 " Jen deserves a snubbin'," said Ed, in his gruff 
 voice ; "the way she treated Lele ; set back in the corner 
 an' never said coaly about supper!" 
 
 "Well, if that isn't a jolly go!" laughed Charlie. 
 "Won't 'Sphixia give her any supper?" 
 
 (30)
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 3! 
 
 " No, I won't!" said Jean, who answered to all sorts 
 of nicknames, of which " Miss Asphyxia " was one 
 not much to her taste. 
 
 "Why, I'd forgotten! I don't expect she has had 
 any supper," cried Syd, and a look of vexation dawned 
 in his eyes. " Jen, did you ask her ?" 
 
 " You know I didn't. I don't care a copper if she 
 starves outright." 
 
 Whereupon Ed, who had been watching her through 
 the half-open . door, slammed it and stamped moodily 
 out on the porch. 
 
 " I wonder the plaster doesn't fall," remarked 
 Jennie, as she poured some water into a pitcher. 
 
 " Jen, if you don't stop aggravating Ed, you'll be 
 sorry for it one of these days," remonstrated Syd. 
 " He wouldn't be half so bad as he is if it wasn't for 
 you. I'd be ashamed to let that girl see what a 
 disposition you have." 
 
 " I'm not one bit worse than the rest of you." 
 
 ( "Hear ! hear !" said Charlie, appealing to the house 
 in a sepulchral tone.) 
 
 " Only you all like to throw the blame on me " 
 
 (" Poor, down-trodden Xantippe," sighed Charlie.) 
 
 " If she comes here and tries to make Ed think 
 he's ill treated, she'll get no palaver from me." 
 
 ("No, no!" groaned Charlie.) 
 
 " I detest her already. I never saw any one I 
 disliked so much." 
 
 " One reason you dislike her so much is because 
 you've treated her so mean."
 
 32 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " How much better have you treated her, I'd like 
 to know !" flashed the angry girl. " Didn't I beg you 
 boys to go to the station for her, and you every one 
 refused ?" 
 
 " Beg pardon," said Charlie. " You tried to drive 
 the rest of us, an' we wouldn't be driv." 
 
 " She hates us now as bad as she can," said Jennie, 
 ignoring Charlie except with her eyes, which burned 
 him like live coals, "and it's no use to smooth matters 
 over." 
 
 " It would take a ten-pound iron to take the creases 
 out of 'em the way they are," said the incorrigible 
 Charlie. " I never saw matters any more wrinkled 
 than they are at present." 
 
 " If we kept her here," Jennie went on, with a 
 dogged persistency worthy of a better subject, "and 
 waited oh her for six weeks, there'd be a fuss at last, 
 as there was with her Aunt Roxy, and she'd go off 
 mad an' talk about us, as everybody does. I'd just as 
 soon she'd leave mad to-morrow." 
 
 " If she stays for six weeks, your Markley chances 
 will go down from par to one below zero," said Charlie. 
 " I think you'd best not try the ironing process." 
 
 Jennie had a strong desire to empty Lele's water 
 pitcher in Charlie's face, but desisted, and was just 
 leaving the room when Syd called out : 
 
 " Set that pitcher down, Jen. Didn't she say she 
 wanted a drink? You shall take her fresh water or 
 none." 
 
 " Then I'll take her none," said Jennie, flinging
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 33 
 
 down the pitcher so roughly that the water flew out on 
 the table. 
 
 "And you won't take her any supper?" 
 
 "No!" screamed Jennie. 
 
 " Then I will," and snatching up the pitcher, he ran 
 out to the well, nearly knocking down Ed, who was 
 sulking on the back porch under the grapevines. 
 
 Ed swore as usual when disturbed, and asked, 
 grumblingly "If the house was a-fire, or had somebody 
 fainted ?" 
 
 "Neither," Syd replied, pumping furiously; "but 
 I'm not going to let a guest suffer from hunger or 
 thirst while I'm around." 
 
 Ed swore he wouldn't stand it to have Jennie treat 
 Lele so. 
 
 "And I won't stand it to have my sister sworn at," 
 retorted Syd. " You've got so coarse and profane of 
 late that you're hardly human. You've got to mend 
 your ways about the house or there'll be a fight, and 
 somebody'll get licked." 
 
 " It won't be you, of course," sneered Ed. 
 
 Syd ran into the house without replying. Setting 
 down the pitcher, he said decidedly to Cora: 
 
 " Code, get a plate and something to eat, and take 
 it up to Lele. Be quick about it, too." 
 
 Cora began to demur in her kittenish way. 
 
 " I declare I don't believe there's anything hardly 
 cooked," she said, opening the cupboard doors and 
 hanging on to them with both hands. " Can I cut the 
 cake, Jen?" 
 
 (3)
 
 34 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You can if you can find it," said Jen, dryly. 
 
 " I don't believe there's any butter up," said Cora, 
 in her soft, lazy voice, which Jennie often declared set 
 her teeth on edge, "and I just won't go to the cellar. 
 That's flat." 
 
 " She'll be in the land of dreams before you get her 
 supper ready," said Charlie. " I often think, Cod-ak, 
 that rather than exert yourself to stick together, you'd 
 cheerfully fall to pieces." 
 
 " I do believe the beef's in the cellar, too," said 
 Cora, yawning. " If 'tis, I'll give it up, for I'm not 
 a-goin' to the cellar." 
 
 Syd swept her aside and himself proceeded to inves- 
 tigate the contents of the larder. His first "find" was 
 a glass of clear, scarlet jelly. " You'll not cut that," 
 said Jennie, angrily. " It's my currant jelly, and I 
 won't have it touched for the likes of her." 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! that's for Joe Markley !" sang 
 Charlie. 
 
 " You mind your own affairs," Syd was saying, by 
 no means gently, and taking the lamp, he descended to 
 the cellar, where he obtained a glass of milk, some 
 butter, some cold beef, cake and pickles. Returning 
 somewhat mollified, he found the jelly non cst. 
 
 "Where's the jelly?" he asked. 
 
 " I put it away," said Jennie. 
 
 Syd cut some slices of bread in ominous silence. 
 
 " He's mad," whispered Tucle to Jennie. " You'd 
 better pony up the jell. There's lightning in his eye."
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 35 
 
 " Now I want the jelly," announced the big brother, 
 in a tone not to be disobeyed. 
 
 Jennie pointed disdainfully to the top of the side- 
 board. 
 
 "Where's the waiter?" next demanded Syd, as he 
 took down the jelly. 
 
 " You seem to be the head waiter, Syd." 
 
 " I mean the tray." 
 
 " It was in the kitchen this evening," said Cora, 
 yawning ; " but, land ! I don't know where it is now. 
 There's no certain place for anything about this house." 
 
 " She will be in the land of dreams, sure," said 
 Clem, plaintively, as Syd instituted a search for the tray. 
 
 " Here it is at last," sighed Syd, wearily, after look- 
 ing for it in forty different places. " Now we're ready. 
 Code, you must take this upstairs and apologize for not 
 asking her out to supper." 
 
 " Not I," said Cora. " I don't know what excuse 
 to offer for not asking her when she was in the parlor." 
 
 " Come, make up something," Syd exclaimed, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " I'll not go a step. That's flat," said Cora, who 
 could be obstinate enough when she tried. 
 
 " That's sharp, you mean," said Charlie. " I see 
 Syd is going to relieve you of all responsibility on 
 account of inefficiency. You take after your pa, 
 Codak." 
 
 " Jen must take it for me, then," said Syd. 
 
 " I won't!" said Jen. 
 
 Syd looked at her fixedly.
 
 36 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 "If you force me to take it, I'll throw it in her 
 face !" cried Jennie. 
 
 " I won't go either," said Cora, bracing herself 
 against the wall with arms firmly locked behind her. 
 " I'm tired of doing things that she won't do." 
 
 Charlie was appealed to. 
 
 Charlie wouldn't go. If he went (grasping the 
 extension table upon which he was perched), that table 
 would go, too. He guessed Clem was the right one 
 to send. Clem evinced his unwillingness to oblige by 
 hiding in the kitchen. 
 
 " Well, I'll be hanged if I ever saw such a family !" 
 cried poor Syd, in despair. 
 
 " We're unique, that's flat, as Cora says," said 
 Charlie, highly enjoying the situation. " Give it up, 
 Syd, an' let's divide around. It would make pretty 
 good cuttin' after all the fuss." 
 
 " She'd think it odd for me to take her .supper up 
 to her room," mused Syd; "but I've got to go if no 
 one else will." 
 
 " Yes, Syd, you'd better go," cried the irrepressible 
 Charlie, stretching himself out flat on the extension 
 table, with his face on one arm and a queer little 
 twinkle in his bright eyes. " You might thus get into 
 her good graces (as the stranger walked off with the 
 silver candlestick in grandad's reader) and win her 
 money an' marry her. Then you could pay off the 
 mortgage an' send us kids to college. We'll never 
 learn any manners here, with a mortgage hangin' low 
 enough over us to rub us bald-headed."
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 37 
 
 "Hold your tongue, Charlie, Your pertness" 
 Syd could hardly speak. He thought if Charlie were 
 his son, how differently the boy should address him. 
 " Marry my step-sister ! Pooh ' You don't know what 
 you are talking about," he went on, sharply. Yet they 
 all observed that his color rose. 
 
 Ed had pushed the door partly open and was regard- 
 ing him with a lowering glance. He now strode into 
 the room and caught hold of the tray. 
 
 " /// take this up to her," he said, hoarsely. " I 
 don't know which is the worst, bad dealing or double- 
 dealing. You're all a rocky set, you are, ax to grind, 
 or no ax." 
 
 " Stop ! Explain yourself !" exclaimed Syd. " Do 
 you mean to hint that I've been kind to your sister from 
 interested motives ?" 
 
 " I do that. You know she'll have money when she 
 marries. I ought to have half of it, but I'll never get 
 a penny of it, and you curse you ! expect to scoop 
 the whole pile." 
 
 The color had died out of Syd's cheeks and left him 
 in one of his white rages, before which even Jennie 
 trembled. 
 
 "Ed Fairfax, you lie!" he said. "If it were not 
 for that girl upstairs, I'd make you eat your words, you 
 scoundrel !" 
 
 Ed set the tray upon the table and faced about, livid 
 with passion. 
 
 "Oh, I'm a scoundrel and liar, am I? And 'that 
 girl upstairs' would be a nobody if you had not set
 
 38 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 yourself to work to get her money. You threatened to 
 thrash me, too, a while ago. Well, to-morrow morning, 
 when we go out to work, we'll settle accounts." 
 
 "All right, sir. Only don't first prime yourself with 
 bad whisky, for I won't fight either a madman or a 
 drunken fool." 
 
 Ed's nostrils quivered. A sort of convulsion passed 
 over his face. Then like a flash he caught up the knife 
 that lay on Lele's plate. 
 
 " Take that back, you, or I'll cut your 
 
 heart out!'' he shouted. Little Tude screamed and 
 ran instinctively toward her favorite, Syd, while even 
 Clem and Charlie appeared somewhat concerned. Cora 
 began to sob in wishy-washy terror, but Jennie relieved 
 the situation by stepping up behind Ed and catching 
 his uplifted arm. 
 
 " Don't disgrace yourself and the family any fur- 
 ther, for pity's sake, Ed," she said, in tones of scorn, 
 which, for once, fell like cold water on fire. "And as 
 for you, Syd, if you had one spark of manliness, you 
 would keep out of a fight to-night." 
 
 Ed turned his dull eyes moodily upon her, but he 
 dropped the knife, and Syd, too, turned away. 
 
 " You begun it." 
 
 " I know it, and I bitterly regret it," Jennie spoke, 
 in a stifled voice, shaking with resolutely repressed sobs. 
 
 Syd went out on the porch at that, for it somehow 
 brought a lump into his throat to see Jennie so per- 
 turbed. And in his own consciousness he felt utterly 
 depressed.
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 39 
 
 " This whole world is as black as hades !" he 
 thought, "and I am the most miserable dog in it." 
 
 Ed also left the room, and presently they heard him 
 stumbling upstairs through the dark. 
 
 " He'll fall down and smash everything, and she'll 
 starve after all," said Cora, tearfully. 
 
 " Maybe cut his throat with the knife or gouge his 
 eyes out with the fork," added Tude, whose eyes were 
 round with apprehension. 
 
 " Or still more likely," from Charlie, "run a spoon 
 into his ear and split his brain into four hemi-demi- 
 spheres instead of two. Clem, my son, art thou not 
 also one of the prophets?" 
 
 Jen's voice had the old impatient ring when she 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Charlie Fairfax, how often have I told you not to 
 sit on that table? You know you'll likely break the 
 casters." 
 
 " I don't know exactly how often," Charlie replied ; 
 "but if you go to hittin' me with the broom, I'll give a 
 bounce that will shatter ever' caster into beads, sure as 
 shootin'." 
 
 " Charlie, get up," said Jennie, half-entreatingly. 
 " I'm so tired I'm fairly sick I want you to get to 
 bed and give me a little peace." 
 
 " No use. There's that girl upstairs to make you 
 tired in the morning," drumming on the table just to 
 hear Jen say it made her nervous. Charlie dearly loved 
 to tease his irritable sister.
 
 40 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE;. 
 
 " Jen, you forgot to salt the butter," suggested Cora, 
 in the midst of the odious drumming. 
 
 " Oh, botheration ! There's always something left 
 undone. It will just have to go." 
 
 " There's none for breakfast." 
 
 " Well, I suppose I'll have to salt it, then. Where's 
 the dairy salt ?" 
 
 " Can't prove it by me," said Cora, yawning. 
 
 " Oh, you never know anything !" 
 
 " Code's brain power is thunderous little," said 
 Charlie. " Only one remove from idiocy." 
 
 " Lucky you've got brains to spare," said Cora, with 
 perfect good humor. " The only trouble is that you've 
 got too much brain for one an' not enough for two." 
 
 Jennie put a stop to the talk by saying: 
 
 " Cora, you go upstairs and put Tude to bed while I 
 salt the butter. You boys, go too. I want the lamp." 
 
 Syd now came in off the porch with the inquiry: 
 
 " Ed come down yet ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "What the dicks is keeping him so long?" 
 
 " Don't know ; telling her everything he knows, 
 probably. You would be wise to go to bed without 
 saying anything more to him to-night." 
 
 " Thanks. Superfluous advice is selling at a low 
 figure, Jinsey ; market glutted." 
 
 While Jennie was salting the butter, Syd came clown 
 to the cellar and sat on an empty barrel watching her. 
 Suddenly he burst out :
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 4! 
 
 v 
 
 " I say, Jinks, there's got to be a new order of things 
 about this house." 
 
 " So you say fifty times a year. Much good it does 
 to say it." 
 
 " This confounded wrangling must be stopped," get- 
 ting up and walking nervously about. " It's enough 
 to drive a man mad to have so much blamed worry out 
 of doors and in, too. It really is. I tell you I can't 
 bear it." 
 
 " Well, how is it on a girl ? Do you think it par- 
 ticularly pleasant to see you boys quarrel the way you 
 do? Drunk or sober, you are equally ready to fly into 
 a passion at the least provocation." 
 
 " Be exact, young lady. / am never drunk," he 
 spoke, haughtily. 
 
 " The only reason you don't drink is because you 
 hate the taste of liquor." 
 
 "I have no principles, then?" 
 
 " Principles, I guess, wouldn't hold you long in 
 check if you wanted to drink." 
 
 " Jen, you're the kind of sister to drive a fellow into 
 dissipation," replied Syd, moodily. " You never give 
 one of us credit for anything good. If we are better 
 in some respects than others, it is because we are made 
 so, and can't be different. Believe me, Jennie, if I 
 don't drink even hard cid>?r, it isn't because I don't like 
 it. I like the taste of it too well. You know from 
 whom I inherited it, perhaps." 
 
 Jennie was silent. Her father had died before she
 
 42 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 could remember, but people had told her that it was 
 drink that did it. 
 
 " I've tried to do right for her sake. You might 
 have helped me more, Jinsey." 
 
 The girl's head sank. She knew he was referring 
 to his dead mother, whom he had deeply loved. Life 
 seemed to have gone all wrong with both of them since 
 her death, two years ago. 
 
 " Well, Syd, I am mean, I know, but it is chiefly 
 because I am so disheartened, and have so little to live 
 for. And it doesn't seem right for other girls to be so 
 happy while I " 
 
 Two great tears splashed on the rude table beside 
 the butter bowl. Jennie bit her lips until they bled to 
 keep them from quivering, as she pounded the solid 
 Jersey butter, sending little sprinkles of brine all over 
 Syd's coat. He withdrew a few steps, mindful that 
 his Sunday coat was not likely to appear less seedy 
 after a baptism of buttermilk and salt. 
 
 " I know, Jinsey," he said, gently, "that your life 
 has not been bright. Neither, for that matter, has 
 mine. But what good comes of all this wrangling in 
 one's family? I like peace at home, and no home can 
 ever be peaceful without a sweet-tempered woman to 
 smooth matters and preserve the domestic ecviilibrium. 
 If mother had only lived !" 
 
 " It isn't my fault that I am incapable of filling her 
 place, Syd. I was born with the fiery McKnight tem- 
 per, while you are far more like mamma than I can 
 ever be. Though I'm sure von would make a bad iob
 
 PROCURING REFRESHMENTS UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 43 
 
 of controlling Ed, if he was thrown entirely on your 
 hands." 
 
 " I admit that ; but, my dear Jenkins, won't you 
 try, if only for a week, to be milder ? The way 
 you have acted this evennig toward Lele was perfectly 
 dreadful." 
 
 Jean replied doggedly that " Lele didn't seem very 
 friendly. She could see at a glance that she meant to 
 walk over her (Jennie) first chance she got." 
 
 " Oh, Jenkins ! You are perpetually seeing un- 
 friendly people who are trying to walk over you. Did 
 you ever meet a pretty girl that you liked? Now, be 
 honest about it. Did you?" 
 
 " If you think Lele Fairfax a pretty girl, I com- 
 mend your taste !" 
 
 " Your taste would have been best displayed by 
 meeting her with sisterly kindness, and giving her the 
 welcome home she had a right to expect." 
 
 " You would have greeted her with a kiss, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
 " Yes ; if I had been a girl, I should." 
 
 " Perhaps you did, out in the lane." 
 
 " I might have done so, for she took me for Ed. 
 Sorry now I didn't. I may never have the opportunity 
 again." 
 
 "Silly boy!" 
 
 " It would be very pleasant to have such a sweet- 
 looking girl presiding over one's home." 
 
 " What would the gossips say ?" 
 
 " Don't know, cr car? much."
 
 44 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Yes, you do care. A man or woman who will 
 marry just for money as you would if you married 
 Lele is beneath anybody's contempt." 
 
 " Your philosophy is all right, Jinsey, but, as the 
 world goes, awfully out of date. There's Mr. Markley, 
 now, who wants you for a wife. He's got a lot of 
 money. You'd be better off with him than you ever 
 will here, for, as I've heard you say, single women are 
 nobodies, and so, for that matter, are single men. 
 There is no happiness on earth away from one's own 
 fireside." 
 
 " I wonder what happiness you think there would 
 be for me by Mr. Markley's fireside !" 
 
 " You'd soon get used to the sight of his bald head 
 and broken nose, and eventually regard him as the 
 dearest " 
 
 " Bargain I ever bought. No, thank you. One 
 mercenary marriage in a family is quite enough."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ED. 
 
 When Ed reached the open door of his sister's 
 room, he saw her kneeling before one of the open win- 
 dows, and thought at first that she was crying. With 
 an inward oath he wished he had stayed away, for of all 
 things he detested cry-babies worst; and, besides, was 
 it his fault that she was ill treated? Why didn't she 
 stay away, anyhow? She might have known nobody 
 wanted her. He felt bitter toward her himself, because 
 she had inherited money half of which ought to have 
 come to him. He had not intended to stand up for 
 her rights at first, and had it not been that every slur 
 cast upon her seemed partly a reflection on himself, 
 he would, perhaps, have resented her intrusion more 
 strongly than any of them. 
 
 While these thoughts flashed through his mind, his 
 sister rose and turned to him with a startled glance, 
 which quickly gave place to an expression of delight. 
 
 " Why, Ed, how did you ever think of bringing 
 me my supper?" she cried, in a voice so sweet and full 
 of gratitude that Ed was softened. " Thank you, ever 
 so much." 
 
 Ed mumbled bashfully: 
 
 (45)
 
 46 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I 'lowed you hadn't had any supper, maybe. 
 Where'll I set this tray?" 
 
 Lele took it from him, saying brightly : 
 
 " I'm so glad you brought it, for I'm perfectly 
 ravenous." 
 
 "Hope there'll be enough," said Ed, moving irres- 
 olutely toward the door. " It's nothin' but a snack." 
 
 " Lunch, he means, I suppose," thought Lele. 
 "Yes, indeed; thank you. How nice of you to fix it 
 up for me, Ed. Boys are not apt to be so thoughtful. 
 But I suppose the girls did it." 
 
 " Not much they didn't," burst out Ed. " They 
 don't take a little bit of a shine to you, Lele." 
 
 " I'm sorry." There was the brightness of unshed 
 tears in the brown eyes, but no decided indications of a 
 scene such as Ed feared. Her calm way of accepting 
 the situation suited him exactly. 
 
 " Tell me, while I eat my supper, what I've done," 
 she added. 
 
 " You've got some sense, I see," he replied ; " an' 
 bein' as you've got sense even if you arc a seminary 
 girl I don't mind tellin' you that you've got into a 
 hornet's nest." 
 
 "What have I done to merit being stung?" asked 
 Lele, helping herself to some of the contested jelly. 
 
 " It's no difference whether you've done anything. 
 Jen don't like you, an' she rules the roast at Fairfax 
 farm." 
 
 "Indeed!"
 
 ED. 47 
 
 " There's one fellow that won't stand her rulin' 
 much longer, confound her." 
 
 " Whom do you mean, Ed ?" 
 
 " Why, I mean me, by gosh ! I'm tryin' not to 
 swear, Lele," he added, apologetically, "but I'll swan 
 if the way things go here ain't enough to make a 
 preacher swear. By jing! she's a tyrant." 
 
 " What's the matter between you and Jean, Ed.?'* 
 
 " She doesn't like me 'cause I'm no kin to her, an', 
 by gum ! she never misses a chance to give me a dig 
 with that infernal long tongue of hers. Pretty soon I 
 intend to cut stick." 
 
 " Cut what?" 
 
 " Clear out, vamoosh, skeedaddle ; put a thousand 
 miles of thin air between myself an' this dog-onned ole 
 farm," explained Ed, lucidly. 
 
 " Where are you going ?" 
 
 Ed gave a short laugh. 
 
 "To the ole Nick, I expect. I might as well be 
 there as here." 
 
 " I should think you would find the difference con- 
 siderable," said Lele. " You ought to be thankful 
 you're alive." 
 
 " I'm not, though." Ed looked moody and sullen. 
 
 "How strange you should all be so unhappy!" 
 mused the girl. " I have always fancied it would be 
 the sweetest thing on earth to have brothers and sisters 
 to confide in and help. But for my aunt's opposition 
 to the idea, I would have tried to establish friendly 
 relations with you all long ago."
 
 48 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " She must have been an old screw," commented Ed. 
 
 " She was the dearest friend I ever had," said Lele, 
 impulsively. "I miss her inexpressibly, and never more 
 than to-night." The red lips trembled, but Lele 
 valiantly battled with the tears, and kept them back. 
 
 " I 'low you'll be kind of uncomfortable here," said 
 Ed, shifting from one foot to the other. " We're like 
 Cats an' dogs. But what's the odds? I won't be here 
 long, an' neither will you, if you're smart." 
 
 " Ed, do tell me where you think of going?" 
 
 " No matter. Eat your supper an' don't bother 
 your head about me." 
 
 " But I just will bother my head about you. You're 
 the only real brother I've got in this world, and I want 
 you to know I love you. I want you to prosper, too, 
 and be happy." 
 
 " You're very kind," said Ed, whose heart for a 
 moment felt a thrill of tenderness for this sweet, new- 
 found sister. 
 
 "Do you like farming?" 
 
 " No, I don't. By gum, I hate it worse than snakes !" 
 
 " What do you like machinery ?" 
 
 " What made you guess that ?" 
 
 " I heard it in some way. Now, if you are sure you 
 can't make a successful farmer" 
 
 " Successful farmer! I rather guess not. I saw a 
 picture of a man with a hoe once that seemed just about 
 the most discouraged lookin' dog I'd seen lately. He'd 
 been hounded to his tasks till he hadn't hardly sense 
 enough to go in when it rained. I said then that before
 
 THE MAN WITH THE HOE 
 
 AFTER MILLET
 
 ED. 49 
 
 I'd turn out such a specimen, I'd split my head open." 
 
 Lele smiled at this naive confession, and asked : 
 
 " Then why don't you educate yourself as a civil 
 engineer or machinist?" 
 
 " Why don't Jack eat his supper ?" growled Ed. 
 
 Lele looked mystified. 
 
 " I mean you can't buy an education with a pocket 
 full of burdock-burrs. You've got to have money, an' 
 we've had none ahead since I can remember." 
 
 Lele pondered, eating very slowly. 
 
 " Couldn't you work your way somehow ?" she 
 finally asked. 
 
 " I've got no chance," said Ed, bitterly. 
 
 "A boy can make opportunities if he will." 
 
 " Pap won't let me oft," said Ed. " He says I've 
 got to nigger here on this ole place till I'm twenty-one. 
 I'd rather be in the Black Hole." 
 
 "Andrew Johnson never learned to read fluently 
 until after he was twenty-one ; and he found time after 
 that to discharge the duties of President. I think 
 there's hope for you, Ed. And remember, a boyhood 
 spent on the farm is often the best foundation for a 
 successful, honorable manhood. He is almost sure to 
 be kept away from the temptations that assail city boys." 
 
 Ed became crimson. He wondered what she would 
 think when she discovered that he had formed about all 
 the bad habits a fellow can pick up anywhere. 
 
 " I guess I'll go," he said, in desperation, for he 
 felt as if he were being impaled. 
 
 " No, wait and get the tray. I'm not through tnlk- 
 
 (4)
 
 5O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ing, Ed." Her tone became more confidential. " I'm 
 only a woman, and can't expect to do much to make a 
 stir in the world. But I do so much want to be the 
 sister of a great man, such as Morse or Edison or Eli 
 Whitney, for instance. A man who invents a cotton- 
 gin or sewing machine is as truly great as one capable 
 of electrifying Congress, or the world, for that matter, 
 with his eloquence. If it were all summed up, I doubt 
 not that Elias Howe outranked Henry Clay in use- 
 fulness." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Ed. 
 
 " Lincoln at twenty-one was a rail-splitter, with no 
 more apparent chance for Presidential honors than you 
 have. What carried him to the White House, elevated 
 Stephenson above common artisans, and gave Elihu 
 Burritt the name of 'Learned Blacksmith' ?" 
 
 " Brains," said Ed, shortly. " I've none." 
 
 " Then your skull is filled with air and not with 
 gray and white matter. I assure you the shape of it 
 is fine. Didn't you learn arithmetic all right?" 
 
 " Yes, and that was every d (excuse me) thing 
 I could learn. Everybody thinks me stupid. Father 
 tells with a sneer, every chance he gets, that I'm fit 
 only for farming, and not half fit for that." 
 
 "Even fathers are sometimes mistaken in estimating 
 a child's abilities," said Lele, calmly. " Ed, tell me 
 truly, haven't you a fondness for mechanics?" 
 
 " I've fooled with wheels a good deal," he admitted, 
 as though forced to confess something of which he was 
 half ashamed. " But I've never made 'em work right.
 
 ED. 51 
 
 Nothing ever does for me. I'm a sort of crooked six- 
 pence. Sometimes I wish't I'd fell in the fireplace an' 
 burnt up 'fore I was a year old. Then I'd have been 
 out of the way for good an' all." He looked, now, 
 pitiably despondent. 
 
 " Don't say such things, Ed. You're young yet 
 only eighteen. Walter Scott's prospects for fame 
 were small indeed when he was your age. Don't you 
 remember how he was considered the dunce of his 
 school ?" 
 
 " I thought he was a genius," said Ed, sullenly. 
 
 " Genius often lies dormant for many a year. You 
 may, yourself, possess it in some form. Only your vis- 
 ionary, who dreams his life away, amounts to nothing." 
 
 " Work is one of the things I hate," said Ed. "And 
 so would you if you had much of it to do." 
 
 " I expect to do quite a good deal of work in my 
 time, Ed," said Lele, smiling. " Busy people are the 
 happiest, and I have never yet seen an idle person 
 whose imaginary woes were not harder to bear than 
 the real ones of the worker. Money alone is worth far 
 less to any man than work and patience and a fixed 
 purpose in life." 
 
 The gleam of intelligence that brightened strangely 
 the boy's, dull, opaque face showed that there was a 
 better nature within which could be roused. 
 
 " I might study to be a machinist," he began, "if I 
 had"- but stopped short before he reached the word 
 "money," set his teeth in his under lip, and scowled. 
 The momentary brightness left his face. His bitter-
 
 52 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ness against the sister who had inherited the sum that 
 would have rendered him independent returned, and 
 with it his anger against Syd. He gazed moodily out 
 at the glimmering stars that shone through the tree 
 tops, and was silent. 
 
 " I'll help you all I can, Ed," said Lele, in a tone 
 full of sweet, sympathetic cadence. 
 
 "You can't if you marry him." 
 
 "Whom?" 
 
 " Syd." 
 
 "Syd!" 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Who suggested such a preposterous thing?" 
 
 Ed swallowed one or two scruples ere he replied: 
 
 " He's fairly spread himself this evening tryin' to 
 make Jin an' everybody treat you well so you will stay. 
 And when Charlie accused him to his face of angling 
 for your money, he colored up and hadn't the grace to 
 deny it." 
 
 Lele fortunately had finished her supper. After this 
 she could not have eaten another morsel. 
 
 " He'll never marry me," she said, looking both hurt 
 and angry. 
 
 "All girls are fools," declared Ed; "seminary girls 
 worse than any other. If he'd ask yon to marry him, 
 so he could get your money to help pay off the mort- 
 gage, you'd think it romantic to do it. And, by gum, 
 you would be sold !" 
 
 "He'll never dare ask me!" cried Lele, glowing 
 with anger.
 
 ED. 53 
 
 " I suppose I shouldn't have told you," said Ed, 
 relenting-. " But I wasn't going to have you walk into 
 a trap blindfold." 
 
 "I am sorry he is so dishonorable," said Lele, stiffly. 
 " I should never have suspected it." 
 
 " I didn't suppose you had much penetration ; girls 
 never have. They need somebody around to look after 
 their interests. And I guess if I don't look after yours, 
 you'll be left for a protector. Father will be dead sure 
 to favor your marrying Syd if he sees the fellow wants 
 you. He always is in for somebody to pay his debts 
 for him, no odds how or who. He was awfully cut up 
 when Maud St. John wouldn't have Syd, because the 
 St. Johns have money, and could have helped him." 
 
 " Syd wanted to marry Miss St. John !" 
 
 "Well, I should think so rather! She used, to 
 like Syd before she went to boarding-school, but her 
 head was so full of 'high society,' when she got home, 
 that she couldn't find a thought for old Syd. He took 
 it awful hard, and if he ever marries, it will be as much 
 to show Maud that she isn't the only girl in the world 
 as anything else." 
 
 Ed mercifully interrupted his flow of eloquence here 
 and hurried away, but with this parting remark : 
 
 " Hope you'll sleep well, Lele. A man committed 
 suicide in this room once, and they say he still 
 walk* P
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 LELE'S FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 
 
 Syd had been sincere in repelling Charlie's sugges- 
 tion about marrying Lele for her money ; he had never 
 until that moment thought of such a thing, and the 
 anger roused by Ed's accusation was perfectly genuine. 
 But as Charlie spoke it had occurred to him, almost 
 with the force of an electric shock, that the most per- 
 plexing question of his life might thus be solved. Here 
 was a fresh-hearted, unsophisticated young girl, just 
 out of school, having been purposely kept out of society 
 until her education should be completed. He did not 
 suppose she had ever had a lover ; he knew she had 
 inherited just the sum of money he needed to make him 
 master of this farm, to give him standing among his 
 neighbors, and help him toward lifelong independence. 
 Resentment against Ed only strengthened the impres- 
 sion already formed, and after the quarrel, which might 
 have resulted seriously had not Jean interfered, he had 
 almost resolved upon a course of action. 
 
 His prospects, as he felt, were desperately bad, and 
 for years had been growing worse, rather than better. 
 
 The farm was heavily mortgaged, and what with 
 bad seasons, bad tenants, and injudicious management 
 on the part of his step-father, Syd had never, with his 
 
 (54)
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE I-ARM. 55 
 
 utmost efforts, been able to save anything for himself. 
 Only to keep the interest and taxes paid was a heavy 
 drain on his resources. I/ong ago it had become fully 
 apparent that Mr. Fairfax would never be able to repay 
 the $5,000 he had borrowed from his thrifty neighbor, 
 Silas Collins. And since the farm must be sold sooner 
 or later, Syd had cherished a secret hope of buying in 
 the place himself. But even at the early age of twenty- 
 one he had become convinced that he could not, ham- 
 pered as he was, expect to earn enough in a lifetime 
 here to buy a farm ; a bitter disappointment, for he had 
 grown deeply attached to the home his mother's pres- 
 ence had hallowed, and which he and Jennie had done 
 so much to beautify. He could not bear to see it pass 
 into the hands of such a man as Si Collins. The only 
 hope he now had was to borrow money enough to buy 
 it in, living the rest of his life, perhaps, under the 
 shadow of a mortgage ; past experience made him 
 shrink from that. 
 
 Then came, quite suddenly, the subtle temptation: 
 " Why not marry a woman with money enough to buy 
 it?" Lele had money enough, he knew; and why not 
 marry her, if she could be won? 
 
 Syd was hampered by a rash promise that he had 
 made to his dying mother an agreement 'never to 
 abandon her children until they were able to sustain 
 themselves. She had commended them to his care 
 rather than to that of Mr. Fairfax, the latter being 
 notoriously improvident. 
 
 After Jean went upstairs that night, Syd put on his
 
 56 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 cap and sauntered down the road toward St. John's. 
 It was a cloudless summer night, and soft airs were 
 blowing over the meadows on either hand, sweet with 
 the perfume of white clover. He thought of nights 
 like this when he had walked with Maud under the 
 stars, in the happy days when she was a school girl, 
 not much better off than himself, and well content to 
 have him by her side. A legacy from a rich uncle and 
 boarding-school life together seemed to have turned the 
 girl's head. He was nothing to her now. 
 
 There was a pretty white house just ahead. That 
 was where Maud lived. He passed it walking slowly, 
 his eyes strained for a glimpse of her. From the parlor 
 windows beamed a rosy light. The hall door stood 
 open. There were some young people on the veranda, 
 and he heard the sound of gay voices and merry laugh- 
 ter. He went on moodily, with his head down. Sud- 
 denly he paused and listened. Among the voices on 
 the veranda he could distinguish that of Ward Collins, 
 once his dearest friend, now his dearest foe. He hur- 
 ried on with long strides, breathing in the scented 
 summer air in deep breaths. Out of " earshot " he 
 paused again and looked back longingly, then he went 
 on again. Not many months ago he had been a fre- 
 quent visitor at the St. John's ; but he never went there 
 now. He had some time during the previous winter 
 awoke to the fact that a man's worldly prospects figure 
 very prominently sometimes in an affair of the heart. 
 Since that disheartening discovery he had paid Maud no 
 more visits ; but it would have elated the little coquette
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 57 
 
 
 
 could she have known how frequently she had been in 
 his thoughts, notwithstanding. 
 
 That he had lost all faith in Maud mattered little. 
 He could net forget that she had been his ideal. Syd 
 had never cared to " go with the girls," as the other 
 young men of his age did. And he was generally 
 thought to be completely indifferent to the fair sex. 
 Men of his type, however, find life without love all but 
 impossible. When one idol is shattered, they set up 
 another. But their worship is often so secret that the 
 object of it is unconscious of her supremacy. Worldly 
 status is of first importance in the eyes of these con- 
 servative men. If they can not attain what they deem 
 "independence" in money matters, they never marry, 
 notwithstanding their domestic tastes, and the heart- 
 hunger that is with them always. 
 
 On his way home to-night Syd observed two figures 
 bending over the gate at St. John's. Maud's laugh 
 softly echoed the coaxing tones of W'ard's voice. Then 
 Syd heard him kiss her. He nearly ran to get out of 
 their presence, the blood beating in his ears. 
 
 When he got home that night he sat down on the 
 top step of the veranda, first picking up absently a 
 violet-scented lace handkerchief which Lele must have 
 lost. He held the dainty snow-white thing which her 
 little hand had crushed, but not soiled, a moment, and 
 then laid it carefully on a chair behind him. He did not 
 care to entertain certain thoughts of Lele in the pres- 
 ence of anything that reminded him so vividly of her 
 sweet and trusting nature. He \vould gladly have for-
 
 58 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 gotten the girl while he considered plans for obtaining 
 her money. 
 
 The hours went by as he sat there thinking nine, 
 ten, eleven, twelve, one! Still the wind whispered 
 "peace" among the lofty tree boughs, and honeysuckles 
 shook their perfumed bells above him. But there was 
 no peace for him. Only a blind rage that he, who, of 
 all men, wished to keep his honor bright, must stoop to 
 such petty knavery as he was planning. He hated 
 himself for it, hated the life he was forced to live, 
 and, above all, hated his step-father for wasting the 
 inheritance which should have come to him and Jean. 
 
 The clock on the sitting-room mantle chimed two, 
 and Syd rose and went upstairs. But even then the 
 dawn was breaking before he slept. He did not, as 
 usual, look at his mother's picture. Rather he avoided it. 
 
 At breakfast he had that guilty, constrained feeling 
 which a naturally honest, straightforward man feels 
 when acting for the first time from unworthy motives. 
 He thought Lele's manner a trifle cool; still she was 
 perfectly polite, though at times when his eyes met hers 
 she reddened as if with anger, or some feeling near 
 akin to it. 
 
 Probably Ed had bstrayed him. 
 
 Notwithstanding the evening's experiences and her 
 disturbing talk with Ed, Lele was so tired that she 
 fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the 
 pillow. To-morrow would be soon enough to lament
 
 FIRST DAY AT TH FARM. 59 
 
 over family troubles and reflect upon the unwelcome 
 insinuations concerning Syd. 
 
 For a moment or two after waking she lay among 
 her pillows in thoughtless comfort, rubbing her eyes 
 drowsily and still fancying herself at the seminary, 
 listening for the rising bell. Then as she grew wider 
 awake, she looked up, and saw opposite the unfamiliar 
 east window, through which the summer dawn came 
 rosily. She felt strangely disturbed in mind, though 
 she could not at first recall just what had occurred to 
 distract her peace. Then remembering that she was 
 in her old home, she buried her face in the pillow with 
 a long-drawn sigh. Thousands of times she. had pic- 
 tured waking up in the lovely, care-free, soul-reviving 
 country to the tune of song-sparrows, Pennsylvania 
 mocking-birds, and a whole galaxy of sweet, winged 
 singers. She had been warned many times not to miss 
 the daybreak concert in the tree tops, but now what 
 sound smote her ear? It was like unto the frying of 
 a thousand beefsteaks, only the sound was wafted 
 downward rather than up. She sprang to the window 
 imbued with the fear that the roof was in flames and 
 every shingle crackling. The mystery was quickly 
 explained. Innumerable blackbirds, that had sought 
 shelter in the big elm trees near her window, were bid- 
 ding each other " good-morning " in tones that could 
 aptly be likened to the snipping of all the sheep-shears 
 in that part of the State, intermingled with the frying 
 of at least a whole vilhge full of sizzling steaks and 
 chops. Lele hastily closed the window and plunged
 
 OO . THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 back into the billowy feather-bed, with her fingers 
 thrust into her ears. 
 
 " Ye gods and little fishes !" she thought ; " the very 
 birds of Fairfax farm are in a racket." Then she 
 began to laugh, and feeling very much as though there 
 might be a stove foundry in full blast somewhere under 
 that voluminous canopy, she got out and opened the 
 window again. Instantly a whole swarm of black- 
 birds, that seemed just ready for breakfast, flew up 
 into the sky like bees, sending a black shadow across 
 the window as they ascended with a whirr of wings 
 like the roar of an express train. Not a song-bird of 
 any kind could be seen or heard. 
 
 " Disillusion No. 2," thought Lele ; " discomforts 
 do exist in the country as well as in the town most 
 unexpected ones, too. Whoever would have thought 
 of the very birds becoming a nuisance !" 
 
 Now that her thoughts came back to the events of 
 the previous evening, she recalled her conversation with 
 Ed, and how Syd had figuratively tumbled off the 
 pedestal she had reared for him. She felt for him an 
 uncontrollable repugnance. 
 
 "And I thought him so nice, too !" she mused. 
 " How kind and considerate he seemed ! One little 
 knows what an act is worth until one knows the motive 
 that prompted it. Willing to marry just anybody, is 
 he? since his girl's gone back on him. Oh, if Aunt 
 Roxy could have lived to hear that !" 
 
 It occurred to her that Syd might find out that he 
 had been betrayed, and would show her only brotherly
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 6l 
 
 attentions at first, or even treat her with assumed indif- 
 ference, in order that he might " catch her heart in the 
 rebound." So she resolved to treat him exactly as she 
 did the rest, and not let him suspect that all his schemes 
 had been discovered. 
 
 "He's a very ordinary looking fellow," she reflected, 
 consolingly. " I'll be in no danger of falling in love 
 with him, I guess, though, I've had so few beaux in 
 my time that I'm pretty susceptible. But I like his 
 looks, and there's something fascinating in his manner. 
 Is it his apparent strength, his easy figure, or the chiv- 
 alrous way he looks at you from under his straight, 
 dark brows? I don't know. I do know, however, 
 that if " - 
 
 The breakfast bell rang. Lele went down. There 
 was no one visible to show her to the dining-room, and 
 she paused irresolutely at an open door, through which 
 she heard voices. One was Syd's, speaking angrily: 
 
 "Jen, why don't you go up and bring her down? 
 It's unpardonable to leave her to find her way alone. 
 Do show her that much courtesy." 
 
 " She'll find her way easily enough," said Jennie, 
 sharply. " This house is not a labyrinth ; and as for 
 courtesy, you'll be less gallant yourself when you find 
 she's engaged to some one else." 
 
 Lele, determined to hear no more, advanced through 
 the sitting-rocm, and in a moment found herself in the 
 presence of the brother and sister who had been dis- 
 cussing her. The breakfast table was set ; Jennie, with 
 a plum brnnch, was keeping off the flies, and Syd was
 
 62 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 leaning on the mantle twisting a lamp-lighter between 
 nervous fingers. He flushed up to the roots of his hair 
 as his eyes met Lele's, perfectly aware that she had 
 heard Jennie's last remark. But he did not utter a 
 word of greeting until after Jennie, with a cold " Good- 
 morning," disappeared in the kitchen ; then he con- 
 trived to express a hope that she had slept well and 
 experienced no inconvenience from her long walk. 
 
 " I slept very well, thank you," said Lele, cheerfully, 
 though her cheeks were burning, too, " and experienced 
 no inconvenience until the blackbirds woke up." 
 
 " The miscreants roosted in the elms last night, did 
 they? I have been driving them from pillar to post 
 for weeks, but they seem to get bolder and more numer- 
 ous every day. All our song-birds are leaving us 
 because of them." 
 
 " Breakfast is ready," said Jennie, tersely. " Sit 
 down," and again she vanished into the kitchen, bring- 
 ing back with her some hot biscuits and a plate of fried 
 ham. 
 
 Lele had intended to enliven the breakfast hour by 
 giving a humorous account of the impressions produced 
 on her mind by the blackbirds, but found it impossible. 
 
 A vexed, disappointed expression had settled upon 
 Jennie's face when she saw that Lele had chanced to 
 seat herself by Syd, rather than Ed, where there was a 
 vacant place evidently reserved for her guest. Nothing 
 was said, but that one glance took all the flavor out of 
 the ham and made her feel as if the biscuits would 
 choke her.
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 63 
 
 " Evidently she doesn't encourage romantic notions 
 on either side," thought Lele. " She doesn't want me 
 in her family under any circumstances. And do I seem 
 to be angling for Syd? Heaven forbid that anything 
 so foreign to my intentions should appear possible !" 
 
 No one seemed inclined to talk. Ed had sat sulky 
 and preoccupied from the first ; the little boys never 
 opened their mouths except when their elbows moved, 
 and Lele felt that conversation under that Gorgon eye 
 of Jean's was out of the question. 
 
 Finally curiosity prompted Charlie to inquire the 
 meaning of a little silver cross which she wore. 
 
 " It's the emblem of my Order," said Lele, smiling. 
 " I am a King's Daughter." 
 
 " What in the world is it for the Order, I mean?" 
 asked Cora, addressing Lele for the first time. 
 
 " Just to encourage people to do little things every 
 day to make each other happy." 
 
 Silence again. A smile of pure amusement hovered 
 around the corners of Sycl's mouth. 
 
 " I think we'll all have to join the Order," he said, 
 looking mischievously at Jennie, who turned her head 
 aside with a gesture of disdain. 
 
 " For pure rudeness Jennie takes the ribbon every 
 time," thought Lele; "she's 'one of 'em' that I've 
 always heard of, but never expected to see. May her 
 tribe decrease." 
 
 Every one was relieved when Jennie gave the signal 
 for rising. The boys trooped off toward the barn, the 
 girls to the kitchen, and Lele, not knowing exactly what
 
 64 THE MAN WITH THE HOE 
 
 to do with herself, went out to the veranda, feeling 
 completely lost. 
 
 "I feel like Alice -in Wonderland," she thought; 
 "and the animals get curiouser and curiouser. I should 
 not be surprised if they would bundle me into a passing 
 carriage and send me back to the station this morning. 
 If they do, I shall never be able to face Sophie Howard 
 again. It would be too mortifying. I believe if they 
 attempt to get rid of me by force, that I'll kick like the 
 mischief, to use one of Sophie's dreadfulest phrases. 
 But the question is, Am I as strong as all of them? 
 Perhaps not, but I mean to put up the best fight I can." 
 
 She walked around looking at the flowers and talk- 
 ing to the cats and chickens to keep her heart from 
 going clear down into her boots. 
 
 " Oh, just think of Lele Fairfax marrying Syd 
 McKnight and living here !" she kept saying to herself. 
 " Why, I should be dead or petrified in less than six 
 months." 
 
 Footsteps were heard in the hall. She looked 
 around and saw Ed approaching, walking as usual, 
 mostly on his heels and jarring the whole house. 
 
 " Say, Lele, I expect you think I was sort of snaggy 
 at breakfast," he said, in a tone meant to be apologetic. 
 " I 'lowed to be pleasanter, but Jinks, confound her ! 
 put me all out o'. whack." 
 
 " How, my dear boy ?" 
 
 " Oh, no odds !" snapping off some honeysuckle 
 buds and throwing them away impatiently. " She 
 swooped upstairs an' eavesdropped, I guess. Jen's got
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 65 
 
 an awful spite at you some way, and you'd best keep 
 out of her track. Don't offer to do anything, or you'll 
 have a racket on your hands, that's all." 
 
 " Never mind about me, Ed ; I'll get along," said 
 Lele, easily. "All I ask is that you won't quarrel with 
 Syd while I'm here." 
 
 "You're afraid he'll get hurt," said Ed, suspiciously, 
 
 " No ; I sized you both up this morning, and it's my 
 opinion that Syd could knock you out in one round, 
 perhaps kill you with a blow. And, Ed, I'd so much 
 rather not attend a trial while I'm here. I hate trials." 
 
 Ed laughed. 
 
 " I'll get you up some other amusements, then," 
 he said. 
 
 "And if you want to learn a trade, remember I'll 
 help you all I can." 
 
 He went away looking brighter, but if the truth 
 must be told, very far from attractive. Lele could have 
 wept, now that she saw him in the broad light of day, 
 when she realized how coarse, how lacking in refine- 
 ment, he was. Every trace of the dimpled, fair-haired 
 child had been lost in the rough, uncultured youth. 
 She felt that it would be really hard for even her to 
 love such a brother, and did not so much blame Jennie. 
 Nothing but the grace of God could make two such 
 natures harmonize in the daily family intercourse. And 
 yet Lele pitied him unspeakably. If she could only 
 make something of him after all ! 
 
 She felt very solitary this morning. The girls were 
 too busy to talk to her, it seemed, and she felt almost 
 (5)
 
 66 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 afraid in the big, empty rooms. She kept thinking of 
 her father, wondering why he did not come home. Did 
 he know what a reception she would receive? Did he 
 care? Would he treat her as the others did? Was 
 she nothing to him either? Lele had expected to stay 
 at least several weeks, but this morning she made a 
 resolve in sober earnest to cut it down (or up, if Jen 
 summoned a carriage!) to ten days. This was one. 
 There would be nine more to endure. Nine solitary 
 days among unfriendly people ; nine dreadful nights in 
 the haunted chamber; three times nine fearful meals 
 with that Gorgon-like girl presiding over the teacups ! 
 
 The prospect sickened her. Ignoring Ed's advice, 
 she went down stairs again, resolved at all hazards to 
 establish friendly relations with Jennie ; otherwise life 
 here would be unendurable. 
 
 Meanwhile Cora, up to her elbows in dishwater, 
 'was saying: 
 
 " Jin, what made you look so queer when she took 
 the plate next to Syd this morning?" 
 
 " Oh, you know well enough," said Jennie, who was 
 bending over the hot stove with flame-colored cheek. 
 " I'd fixed a plate for her over by Ed, an' put a scoured 
 knife for her to eat with. But I forgot to tell her 
 which place to take, and she got the wrong one, of 
 course. It always happens so !" 
 
 " I noticed she had an old black knife, one of them 
 run-off ones," said Cora, " and thought you had given 
 it to her a-purpose. Do look at that fly-trap, Jin ! It's 
 as full as it can stick," dabbing her hands in the water,
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 67 
 
 ( / 
 
 quite unmindful of the flight of time and of the number 
 of utensils yet unwashed. 
 
 " Never mind the fly-trap," cried the elder sister, 
 impatiently. " Why don't you hurry up and get 
 through, so you can go talk to her ? I never saw any- 
 body as slow as you are." 
 
 "Why don't you go in, then, if you're so fast?" 
 drawled Cora. 
 
 Jennie flew hither and thither trying to do two or 
 three kinds of work at once in order to make up for 
 Cora's slowness. 
 
 " You know I never have a minute to sit down until 
 after dinner," she said, nervously. " Do go 'long an' 
 put on another dress, so you'll be fit to be seen. It dis- 
 tracts me to have you poking around. I believe I can 
 do more work when you're not with me." 
 
 " I wish I'd known that long ago," said Cora. "I've 
 tired myself dreadfully tryin' to help you, Jinsey," 
 rather wistfully. 
 
 " I don't think you are likely to cripple yourself 
 with hard work," said Jennie. " But now I wish you'd 
 go in an' show her your quilt, or do something to keep 
 her from pokin' her nose into everything. Hang her! 
 I wish I knew when she was goin' away." 
 
 "Hush! she's out on the back porch, an' I'll bet 
 you a cookie she's heard every word," whispered Cora. 
 
 Jennie turned scarlet with vexation. Her dislike 
 for Lele increased when she thought the latter had 
 overheard her ungracious wish. In reality Lele had 
 not distinguished a word, though she knew as soon as
 
 68 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 she saw the two girls that they had been talking about 
 her. And she unconsciously added to Jennie's ire by 
 saying : 
 
 " Girls, haven't you something I can do ? I'm used 
 to being busy, and I don't know what to do with 
 myself." 
 
 " She wants to let us know that she notices we 
 haven't got time to talk to her," thought Jennie, resent- 
 fully. So she said, coldly: 
 
 " No, thank you ; we don't need any help. If you 
 want something to read, I'll get you a book." She 
 paused as though struck by a sudden thought, and 
 added : " Ed has a good many books and papers in his 
 room. I'll show you the room, and you can ^t what 
 you like best ;" then with a little chilly, derisive smile, 
 " but don't disturb the wheels." 
 
 Lele did not like to intrude upon the privacy of her 
 brother's room, but thinking he would not be offended 
 if she left everything as she found it, she followed 
 Jennie upstairs. 
 
 Like Syd, Jen walked splendidly, with her shoulders 
 thrown back and her head erect. There was something 
 truly dramatic in her attitude as she threw open the 
 door of her brother's apartment and pointed scornfully 
 within. 
 
 " I want you, if you can, to tell me how to turn this 
 Purgatory into a Paradise," she said, and Lele saw 
 large tears glisten for a moment in the flashing dark 
 eyes as the discouraged young housekeeper turned 
 away.
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. 69 
 
 It was a curious apartment, half workshop, half 
 bedroom, and indescribably disorderly. There was no 
 carpet, no wall paper ; neither curtain nor blind to shade 
 the windows, though an old coat was stretched half way 
 across one window, and a piece of rag carpet served as 
 a screen for the other. 
 
 In one corner of the room was a four-post cedar bed- 
 stead, infirm with age. The bed-clothes were ragged, 
 the linen soiled, the floor littered with shavings and 
 scraps of old iron. Wheels were everywhere, inter- 
 mixed with boots and shoes, books, papers and tools. 
 A well-bred pig would not have been pleased with such 
 untidy quarters. And who was to blame for it but the 
 woman who permitted such a den to exist unmolested 
 in her house ? Lele blamed Jennie, very naturally, and 
 resolved to give her an object lesson in " redding up " 
 that would open her eyes. 
 
 It did Lele good to clean up that room. How she 
 worked! After the windows were thrown open to 
 admit the pure air, and the bed made to look a little 
 less repulsive, she concluded to hang up the scattered 
 clothing and arrange things in some sort of order. 
 And when the floor had been swept and the dust re- 
 moved, the place looked, if not attractive, at least a 
 little more like a human habitation. Lele next turned 
 her attention to the various works of art which deco- 
 rated the walls pictures of ballet girls, actresses, and 
 various gaudy advertising cards, some of which were 
 hardly fit for the public gaze, and all in questionable 
 taste. The worst ones she took down ; from the others
 
 70 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 she turned with disgust. Next she examined the piles 
 of reading matter that had accumulated in dusty heaps 
 about the room stacks of Police Gazettes, Saturday 
 A"/ 'ghts, and other papers of a sensational type. All 
 sorts of pamphlets advertising machinery, works on 
 telegraphy, phrenology, mechanics, etc. And scattered 
 everywhere were flashy, yellow-backed novels, with 
 illustrations hardly suited to a lady's eye. Among the 
 whole collection she found but two standard works, a 
 ragged and soiled St. Elmo and an Uncle Tout's Cabin, 
 yellow with time, tattered, thumb-marked and dog- 
 eared. Both of these she had read, and she had now 
 no desire to re-peruse them. The exhibition of Ed's 
 literary taste appalled her. Did her father know what 
 Ed was reading? When she left the room her hopes 
 of reclaiming him were low indeed. 
 
 In the upper hall she found Jennie just leaving 
 Syd's room with a broom and dust-pan in her hand. 
 She motioned to Lele to look within. And again there 
 was something dramatic in her gesture, something that 
 said as plain as words, " Look on that picture, and now 
 on this !" 
 
 Lele glanced in, expecting a great difference in the 
 furnishing, but saw little. The floor was also bare, 
 the walls whitewashed, and only cheap shades at the 
 curtainless windows ; but everything was in the most 
 exquisite order. 
 
 A lady's bedroom could not have been more neat 
 and pure. Everything was in its place ; no dust any- 
 where ; no scattered papers ; no questionable illustra-
 
 LELES FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. /I 
 
 tions. The bed-covers were whole, the pillows snowy, 
 and the painted floor shone with wax. In Ed's room 
 were pipes and cigar stumps and decks of greasy cards ; 
 none here. In contrast to Ed's reading matter stood a 
 neat bookcase, filled with well-worn books on a wide 
 range of subjects, but all by standard authors. In the 
 lower shelves were files of papers, chiefly political, 
 farm and home, each in its labeled pigeon hole. And 
 above the mantel hung the only picture in the room, the 
 portrait of a beautiful woman. It was a fascinating 
 face ; one never tired of looking at it. Its beauty was 
 striking, but the chief charm lay in the expression of 
 the eyes, and of the firm, yet gentle mouth, appealing to 
 the finer traits of one's character, and thus wielding an 
 influence for good, as a rose jar sends out perfume long 
 after the sweet petals are faded. 
 
 " What a lovely face !" exclaimed Lele. " It does 
 me good only to look at it." 
 
 " Mamma's picture,'' explained Jennie, looking 
 away. " Syd likes to have it where he can see it the 
 last thing at night and the first thing in the morning. 
 He says it makes a better man of him. And I believe 
 it does. Syd favors mamma, I think." 
 
 A tear for the gentle mother she missed so sorely 
 momentarily dimmed the brightness of her hard black 
 eyes. 
 
 " He does, in expression," assented Lele, sympa- 
 thetically. " How nice you keep his room, Jennie." 
 
 " I spend but little more time on it than I do on 
 Ed's. Syd keeps things in order himself mostly, and
 
 72 THE MAN WITH THE; HOlv. 
 
 Ed swears so dreadfully when I clean up his room 
 and misplace anything that I've given up trying to do 
 much there." 
 
 " The pictures have their influence, too," mused 
 Lele. 
 
 " Yes ; but you couldn't get Ed to keep any better 
 ones. His tastes are disgusting !" 
 
 " Ed says he's slept under nothin' but strings ever 
 since he can remember, an' he knows that ole bedstead 
 came over in the Mayflower," piped up Tude, from the 
 head of the stairs. 
 
 Jennie made no reply, but gave the child a glance 
 that would have sent her flying downstairs did looks 
 possess projectile force. 
 
 Later in the morning Cora and Tude made some 
 half-way friendly overtures to Lele by showing her 
 their quilt pieces, but the day dragged wearily enough. 
 No one had much to say at dinner. Even Syd was 
 taciturn, and Lele imagined from the scowl on Ed's 
 brow that the two boys had been quarreling again. 
 The afternoon was duller than ever. Lele could have 
 enjoyed an afternoon nap if screens had banished the 
 flies. As it was, she was obliged to take a book and 
 sit on the lawn in the shade in order to keep awake. 
 The view was better worth looking at than her book. 
 
 The lawn, gently sloping from the house to the 
 public road, was quite different in scope and appear- 
 ance from the ordinary farm dooryard, and conse- 
 quently the envy of the whole country-side. With its 
 sweep of velvet turf, its clumps of shrubbery, its bor-
 
 FIRST DAY AT THE FARM. - 73 
 
 derecl walks and rustic seats, its roses, lilies and honey- 
 suckles, and stately trees, that seemed to have been 
 growing since the days of William Penn, it looked 
 little enough like the abode of poverty and discord. 
 Rather like the country home of some wealthy family, 
 who chose to spend their summers " far from the mad- 
 ding crowd's ignoble strife," contented, happy and lux- 
 urious. It was in the interior of the house, where 
 everything w r as worn and shabby, and in the farm 
 fences and outbuildings, that the tokens of poverty 
 were most apparent. 
 
 Back of the house lay the garden ; to the west was 
 a grassy hillside, on top of which was the family burial 
 ground, where the ancestral monuments stood out in 
 bold relief against the sky.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 How THE DAY ENDED.. 
 
 That interminable "first day" ! Would it indeed 
 last always? Lele seemed to live fully three years 
 between the matins and the vespers of her devout colony 
 of blackbirds. Now they were silent as the winking 
 stars in the firmament, and the red light had faded from 
 the west. It was dusk, and the four girls sat rocking 
 on the veranda. Across the clover fields, where the 
 fireflies hung like sparks of light, they could hear the 
 monotonous " Yip, yip, yip !" of Ol Stuart's captive 
 dog and the jingling notes of a piano mixed in a mel- 
 ancholy discord. Lele kept repeating to herself as she 
 rocked : " Eight more sunsets. Eight more evenings 
 dedicated to barking dogs and other melancholy sounds, 
 that would have enhanced Milton's fame had he put 
 them into // Penscroso." 
 
 Ed was gone for Lele's trunks, which somehow 
 added to her load of depression. When he proposed 
 going for them, she felt that she would cheerfully have 
 given all her income for the next two years for a 
 respectable excuse to depart. 
 
 Her day, notwithstanding her high hopes of ren- 
 dering herself useful in the old home, had registered 
 itself on the failure side of the column. Her two 
 
 (74)
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED. 75 
 
 hours spent in Ed's room had reaped a rich harvest 
 of oaths from that youth, who had nearly knocked 
 Jennie down for " tearing up Jack " in his room, and 
 appeared but little mollified by hearing that it was Lele 
 who had banished some of his most scantily attired 
 ballet girls and wrought other irrevocable havoc in his 
 sanctuary. 
 
 " D her, if she can't do anything but ' tear up 
 Jack ' in my room, she'd better clear out !" she heard 
 him say, as he sprang into the wagon and drove down 
 the lane at breakneck speed. Lele was thankful after 
 all that she was not going. Her bones would have 
 been proof against no such knocks as they would have 
 received from the road wagon in the hands of this ill- 
 tempered Jehu. She began now to believe that Sally 
 Cahill had not misrepresented Ed much ; he was cer- 
 tainly the farthest remove from " angelic " of any 
 person she had ever met. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax had not yet returned, and the other 
 boys were feeding the stock, after a long, hard day's 
 work in the harvest field. 
 
 On the veranda there was no attempt at conversa- 
 tion. Cora and Tude waited for the older girls to 
 begin, but Lele was far too blue to open a cheerful con- 
 versation, and Jennie was sullenly silent. 
 
 To do the girl justice, she wished to do right, but 
 her nature seemed disproportionate to her surround- 
 ings. She was like a young leopardess growing up in a 
 walled garden, whose carefully planted flower-beds she 
 was ruining by futile attempts to escape to her native
 
 76 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 wilds. Ambitious and talented, with no way to gratify 
 her ambition or develop her talents, she was living a 
 life of repression, that was crushing out all her nobler 
 qualities. She did not know, herself, what she was 
 fitted for, though music was her ruling passion. To 
 be a great singer ah ! that would be life ! Jean felt 
 that she had never yet lived. And until she could live 
 she felt that she dared not die. Into Eternity she 
 would carry with her this mad longing, this craving 
 for vigorous action. Oh, for emancipation from the 
 petty tyranny of the Commonplace ! 
 
 Without a better education than she possessed she 
 felt that she never could accomplish anything. Why 
 must Lele have the education and Jean the ability to 
 use it to advantage? 
 
 It is a common belief that if one can not be useful 
 in a narrow sphere, one need not expect to be useful in 
 a wider one. But is it not also true that some natures 
 need expansion to fit them for real usefulness, and are 
 dwarfed and distorted by close and long-continued 
 processes of repression? Jen's was. 
 
 None knew just what ailed her. She had been a 
 bright and happy child a few years ago. At nineteen 
 she was a soured, disappointed, hopeless woman. All 
 the sweetness of a naturally generous and noble nature 
 seemed to be turning to vinegar. v; 
 
 To-night she sat in ,1 wild waste of thoughts that 
 surged through her mind so fiercely she almost feared 
 they were audible to others. Again and again the tide 
 of words flowed eloquently to her lips ; but she reso-
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED. 77 
 
 lutely forced it back, fearing that her own aspirations 
 would be betrayed to one who had no interest whatever 
 in her or her plans. Mere empty gossip had no place 
 in Jennie's thoughts. She must talk from the heart, 
 if at all. 
 
 Lele, meanwhile, felt sad and lonely. She would 
 indeed have been glad of a friendly shoulder to lean 
 against and weep. This place, so melancholy, these 
 silent sisters, the twilight and honeysuckles and far-off 
 noises of the night, made her heart ache. If they 
 would only talk to her! But even little Tude was 
 mute to-night. 
 
 The boys came trooping through the hall at last 
 and sat down, Charlie, as usual, assuming a recumbent 
 position on the floor, with his heels dangling over the 
 edge of the veranda. "Charlie will never injure his 
 spine by sitting or standing," his father sometimes said, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 " Why don't you have a lignt?" asked Syd, by way 
 of saying something. Jean replied by lighting the hall 
 lamp. No one spoke. A sheep-bell tinkled in some 
 distant pasture, and a piano sounded in a monotonous 
 jumble of high notes across the fields Maud's piano. 
 
 " I'd rather hear the cackling of a guinea than that 
 old thing," complained Charlie, covering up his ears 
 with his arms. " When / get married, I won't have 
 a piano on the premises. I notice the practicing at 
 St. John's is done at the busiest hours. I can always 
 tell when dinner or supper is a-nearin'. There's a loud 
 clash of music that lasts until the bell rings ; and after
 
 78 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 the meal is over, I notice it begins again like a tornado, 
 and lasts until Mrs. St. John hangs up the dishpan by 
 the kitchen door." 
 
 Syd was silent. Visions of long summer mornings 
 in the past, when he was working on the far side of 
 the place in sight of St. John's, came to tantalize him. 
 Maud, in her intervals of practicing, used to sit on the 
 vine-covered veranda and crochet. How beautiful she 
 had looked in her white dress and blue ribbons, bend- 
 ing her blonde head over her dainty work, while her 
 mother, with a tired look on her worn face, was toiling 
 at the wash-tub or over the hot kitchen stove ! He 
 did not think of it then, but many a time since it had 
 occurred to him that white hands may but be symbols 
 of selfishness, and music but one way of idling time. 
 
 A wagon was at length heard approaching. Syd 
 listened intently. 
 
 " Our wagon," he announced, in a tone of relief. 
 " I suppose Ed has waited for father." 
 
 The wagon stopped at the outer gate. 
 
 " Yes, that's Ed," Syd reiterated. " Father is with 
 him, of course." 
 
 The children began to talk among themselves, but 
 Jean walked impatiently to the end of the veranda and 
 strained her ear to hear the opening of the gate. 
 
 Syd sprang down off the veranda, and saying some- 
 thing in an undertone to his sister as he passed, hurried 
 down the lane. They could hear every footstep, each 
 one swifter than the last.
 
 HOW THE; DAY ENDED. 79 
 
 " Better come into the house," said Jennie, going 
 in. " It's getting damp out there." 
 
 The two boys whispered to each other and scram- 
 bled to their feet, while Cora shook Tude awake and 
 half dragged, half carried her into the house. 
 
 As Lele was following them in, wondering as to 
 the cause of the commotion, she heard Cora say to her 
 elder sister: 
 
 " It's just like him; I'd be ashamed!" 
 
 " I'm not sure," said Jennie, in agitated reply, 
 " whether Ed is in the wagon. He may have fallen 
 out and been run over." 
 
 Lele waited to ask no questions. Like a flash she 
 sped through the veranda, down the steps and out 
 into the lane, up which the wagon by this time was 
 approaching. She retreated inside the little gate and 
 waited. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" she asked, breathlessly. 
 
 " Oh, nothing." Syd's tone was impatient. " Ed 
 has gone to sleep and father has not come home. Go 
 back to the house, please, and tell Jen to bring out the 
 lantern, so we can put up the horses. And, Lele, don't 
 come back here. We'll attend to your trunks." 
 
 " I was not thinking of my trunks, sir," replied the 
 girl, haughtily. And she turned to deliver his mes- 
 sage, but, meeting Jennie and the others, retraced her 
 steps. 
 
 " Jen, hold the lantern here," said Syd, in an agi- 
 tated voice, as she came up. " I don't know but the
 
 80 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 trunks may have crusted his skull. No, I guess he's 
 all right. Don't let Lele come out again. Oh, there 
 she is !" 
 
 "At least tell me what has happened," implored 
 Lele. 
 
 Syd sprang down from the wagon, and going up 
 to her, took her trembling hands in his with a quick 
 impulse of sympathy, though his cheek burned with 
 shame. 
 
 " Lele, I hate to tell you, and tried to get you back 
 to the house so you wouldn't know. Ed has come 
 home dead drunk!"
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 
 
 Lele's sleep that night was miserable indeed. Often 
 she would start up nervously, half fancying she heard 
 some sound of a supernatural character. Sometimes 
 she thought she heard mysterious rappings ; once a 
 switch seemed to tap the window sharply ; gusty sighs 
 appeared to emanate from the closet ; imaginary sounds 
 all so acute is the sense of hearing at the still mid- 
 night hour, and so powerfully are ordinary sounds 
 magnified by excited nerves. 
 
 With it all she was vaguely uneasy about her father. 
 What if somebody had murdered him days ago ? What 
 if he had disappeared never to be heard of more ? And 
 poor, misguided Ed ! Ah, me ! 
 
 Toward morning she was roused by the loud neigh- 
 ing and tramping of horses, apparently just beneath 
 her window. Running to see what was the matter, 
 she was just in time to observe in the bright starlight 
 three or four horses galloping past the corner of the 
 house. One of them slipped on the pavement and fell, 
 and the second quite turned a summersault over the 
 fallen steed, which gave vent to a shriek that curdled 
 her blood. She drew back shaking with fear, for she 
 thought both were at least fatally crippled ; but the 
 
 (6) (80
 
 82 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 next moment they were on their feet and had gone 
 with a mad rush to the farther end of the lawn, where 
 they stood for a minute or two squealing and kicking 
 at each other, and then came back at a gallop straight 
 for the parlor window. They paused, however, before 
 colliding with the sash, and began kicking at each 
 other in such good earnest that every blow sounded 
 as if a bone had splintered. The whole house was 
 roused. Jen's voice was heard frantically calling for 
 Syd to "hurry up the horses were killing each other," 
 and in a very short time, Syd, with- a lantern, appeared 
 on the scene. Whereupon the mischievous imps made 
 a charge at the fence, through which they crashed like 
 cannon balls, and then went careering in high spirits 
 down the lane. It took Syd quite a while to capture 
 and stable them. Nor was this accomplished without 
 considerable risk, for among the animals was a very 
 ill-tempered mule belonging to one of the neighbors 
 a creature noted for its kicking and biting propen- 
 sities. And the horses themselves were in no amiable 
 mood. Lele experienced a good deal of relief when 
 she at last saw Syd come back unharmed, swinging the 
 lantern in his hand. It would not have surprised her 
 much if he had been killed. " Not that I would have 
 broken my heart over him," she reflected, " but if Syd 
 must be killed by these dreadful creatures I should 
 rather it occur after I go back to St. Louis." 
 
 She fell off dozing, and in her dreams saw him 
 mangled in a chariot race, where the steeds were 
 stump-tailed bay mules.
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 83 
 
 " I wonder if these scenes occur often !" she said 
 to herself on waking. " One vow I now register 
 never to marry a farmer until electricity entirely super- 
 sedes horses." 
 
 She fell off dozing again, and was roused by the 
 terrified bellowing of cattle one of them having 
 become fast in some way out in the barnyard, which 
 opportunity another seemed to have taken to gore it 
 to death. 
 
 Syd and the lantern again flashed, meteor-like, 
 across the lawn. Shortly afterward Lele registered 
 another vow, viz : 
 
 " Never to marry a farmer at all. City people have 
 but little to dread but fire and robbers, and those sel- 
 dom materialize. But this stock-raising I could not 
 endure." 
 
 About daybreak she fell into a heavy sleep, from 
 which she was roused by Cora, two hours later. 
 
 " Pap's got home," Cora said, through the keyhole. 
 " You'd better hurry down, for he wants to see you, 
 an' he'll be awful mad if we keep breakfast back till 
 his coffee gets cold." 
 
 " What good will my life resolution, ' Never meet 
 trouble half way,' do me if I allow myself to worry 
 about trifles as I have since I've been here?" she 
 thought. " It isn't like me, and now that I understand 
 better how things are here I ought not to feel so sen- 
 sitive about apparent slights. These poor creatures 
 have enough to bear, what with their kicking horses,
 
 84 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 bawling cows and "- she heaved a sigh " such a 
 brother as poor, pitiable Ed." 
 
 She was a little excited, though somewhat pale 
 and shaken when she found herself in her father's 
 presence, after so many years. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax was habitually well dressed ; a fine- 
 looking man, above the medium height, but inclined 
 to stoutness. His dark brown hair was silvered at the 
 temples, and his flowing beard tinged with gray ; but 
 the blue eyes behind their gold-rimmed eye-glasses 
 were as keen and bright as a boy's. His face had the 
 attractiveness always accompanying regular feattues 
 and intelligence. 
 
 A gentleman in the accepted sense he was immac- 
 ulate as to linen, spotless as to broadcloth, courtly in 
 manner. 
 
 He was seated at the foot of the table absorbed in 
 a newspaper when she came in. Syd touched him on 
 the shoulder as he nodded " Good-morning " to Lele. 
 
 " Here's Lele, father," he said, adding to her : 
 " You'll have to speak a little loud to him ; he's slightly 
 hard of hearing." 
 
 Mr. Fairfax at this deliberately folded his news- 
 paper, laid it beside his plate, and removing his gold 
 eye-glasses, held out his hand to Lele. 
 
 "And this is my eldest daughter grown into woman- 
 hood," he said. "Do you remember your mother? I 
 can see you resemble her." 
 
 " Very little," said Lele, in answer to his question.
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 85 
 
 " Sometimes I fancy I can remember things that 
 occurred before her death ; but that must be a mistake. 
 I was but two years old when she died." 
 
 " Yes, I know. You can have no recollection of 
 her. It is a pity your aunt kept you away from us 
 so much ; you and Ed should not have been separated." 
 He frowned as he glanced at his son's empty place. 
 " When did you arrive ?" he next asked. 
 
 " Friday evening. I sent you a telegram " 
 
 " Yes, I know," which seemed to be a favorite 
 phrase with him one warranted to cut short any other 
 person's loquacity and give him, what he dearly loved, 
 full sway with his tongue. " But I was obliged to 
 leave on Wednesday, and found business so pressing 
 that I could not return until late last night. I knew 
 the folks had nothing in particular to keep them from 
 entertaining you only a little harvesting on hands; 
 we don't farm very extensively not as we did in 
 my father's time." 
 
 Syd shot an odd glance at Jennie, and bent over 
 his plate looking flushed and indignant. Mr. Fairfax 
 made no further inquiries about Lele's journey did 
 not ask about her graduation, (strangely enough none 
 of them had mentioned it!) but began at once to dis- 
 course learnedly upon a liquor law which had been 
 passed contrary to his vote, and for some reason was 
 doing more harm than good. Lele listened respect- 
 fully, throwing in an occasional leading question, and 
 the rest sat in silence, apparently taking but little
 
 86 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 interest in the subject. Occasionally Jennie's dark eyes 
 would flash and kindle and her lips would quiver with 
 some repressed speech ; but she said nothing. ' 
 
 " Now with regard to selling liquor to minors," said 
 Mr. Fairfax, addressing Lele as though she were a 
 lawyer of mature age, and ignoring the others, " there 
 ought to be a law prohibiting any minor from entering 
 a saloon. Keep a man out of saloons until he is 
 twentyrone, and ten chances to one he'll never be a 
 drinking man. It is drinking whisky when he is 
 young and soft, and ready to believe that any low act 
 is a manly act, that spoils him for life." 
 
 " Yes ; but how would you keep him out ?" 
 
 " Make laws to do it ! Every minor seen in a saloon 
 should be tied to a whipping-post and given twenty 
 lashes for the first offense, and thirty for the second. 
 Take my word for it these whippings would cure any 
 boy of a taste for saloons." 
 
 Lele thought differently, but did not say so. After 
 breakfast, her father told her to look around and amuse 
 herself ; he had some accounts to look over and wouldn't 
 have much time to talk to her before dinner ; but he 
 hoped she would make herself " perfectly at home." 
 And Lele, feeling like " small potatoes in Ireland," even 
 in the eyes of her own father, went up-stairs to while 
 away the time by shaking out her dresses. 
 
 " I'd better have left them at the station," she 
 thought. 
 
 Her trunks were well filled one of them with 
 articles of clothing which she had outgrown. These
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 87 
 
 were things she had intended to give the younger girls, 
 together with a number of little gifts, newly purchased. 
 
 Lele examined them carefully, doubting whether 
 any of them would make acceptable gifts. There was 
 a mustache cup for her father ; would he appreciate it ? 
 And those embroidered cigar cases for Ed and Syd 
 how trivial and useless they looked ( Would Jennie 
 care for a volume of poems, or Cora for an album, or 
 Clem for a tool-chest, or Charlie for a story book? 
 Very likely not. She could not get near enough to 
 any of them this morning to exchange remarks. Ed, 
 of course, was invisible, and Syd might as well have 
 been. The only consolation was that that young gen- 
 tleman had obviously given up all designs on her hand. 
 Lele wondered at herself for feeling vaguely disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 She took a big doll out of the trunk and began 
 arranging its toilet with the air of one who seeks that 
 companionship from inanimate objects which is denied 
 by flesh and blood. 
 
 ' ' When dreamless sleep is mine I shall not need 
 The tenderness for which I long to-day, '.' 
 
 She mused. " Oh, dear ! how dull I am. I wonder 
 if I shall have to resort to dolls for amusement per- 
 haps grow imbecile and take up with all sorts of childish 
 amusements." 
 
 Presently she heard a gasp of delight. Tude, peer- 
 ing through the half-open door, had caught sight of 
 the doll.
 
 88 THE; MAN WITH THE; HOE. 
 
 " Come here, Tude," she called. 
 
 The child dropped down on her knees before the 
 trunk in silent adoration. 
 
 " Do you happen," asked Lele, " to know any good 
 little girl who needs a new doll?" 
 
 Tude hung her head, but peeped up at her shyly 
 through her curls. 
 
 " You didn't think about me when you bought it, 
 did you?" she asked. 
 
 Lele smiled and laid the doll in Tude's outstretched 
 arms. As she did so, its blue eyes closed. Tude 
 screamed with delight, then paused doubtfully. 
 
 " She ain't bewitched, is she ?" she asked solemnly. 
 
 "No, no. Why do you think so?" 
 
 " I thought maybe the ghost had come in an' con- 
 jured her. Sister says a ghost walks through this 
 room every night." 
 
 "Ah !" 
 
 "An' she says she bets you won't stay long after you 
 see it!" 
 
 " Hasn't she any other room for me to sleep in ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. You might sleep with her. But " 
 then breaking off with an apologetic little smile, " Jen's 
 cross !" 
 
 " Is that the only reason she makes me sleep in 
 the front room alone?" 
 
 " I guess so. She said if you had to sleep in the 
 ghost room you wouldn't stay so long. The creaks, 
 they come ; the raps, they come ; an' sometimes the taps 
 
 ^ ;
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 89 
 
 come, an' they're worst of all." Tude glanced fear- 
 fully about her and edged toward the door with her 
 doll. 
 
 " What do you mean by the creaks and the raps 
 and the taps?" demanded Lele. 
 
 " I hardly know. Only if you hear 'em you'll never 
 want to hear 'em again, never in your world," she 
 added in a " little Prudy " fashion peculiar to the 
 child. " Them creaks an' things bring bad luck, let 
 me tell you. Jen says she thinks sometimes there's 
 an evil spirit in the curtains. She wishes she could 
 burn up ever' rag an' totter of 'em an' then maybe we'd 
 have luck. Oh, dolly, you are so pretty!" 
 
 " She's yours, dear," said Lele. " Won't you kiss 
 me, too?" as the child kissed the doll. 
 
 But Tude would not. 
 
 " I promised Jen I wouldn't," she whispered, glanc- 
 ing fearfully at the door. " She said she'd lam me 
 well if I kissed you, or made up with you one bit!" 
 
 Lele was flesh and blood. At last an angry flush 
 rose to her cheek and her eyes flashed. 
 
 " Go and tell Cora and Clem and Charlie I have 
 something for them in my trunk," she said, hastily 
 rising. " Tell them I want to see them right awa\." 
 
 Tude flew down-stairs like the wind, carrying her 
 treasure with her. 
 
 " Look what I've got ! Look what I've got !' she 
 screamed, rushing gleefully into the kitchen. " Lele 
 says she is going to give something nice to Cora an*
 
 90 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ) 
 
 Clem an' Charlie if they'll come right straight up-stairs ; 
 but she won't give nothin' to Jen, 'cause she made her 
 sleep in the ghost room." 
 
 Now it chanced that this little speech came up 
 at the worst possible time with regard to any peace 
 between the two step-sisters. Jennie, ashamed of her 
 conduct already, had been trying to make up her mind 
 to show Lele more courtesy, when Tude's speech threw 
 all " the fat in the fire " again, and Jennie, more angry 
 than ever, gave herself bodily over to her evil genius. 
 She said nothing at first, only redoubling her efforts 
 to sweep the kitchen clean " diggin' splinters off the 
 floor at every jab,'' Charlie declared. All the dust in 
 the floor was soon in the air. 
 
 " I've seen dusts," gasped Charlie, " but I'll swan 
 I never set peepers, as Sam Cahill says, on such a dust 
 Sunday morning. You can't see your hand before you. 
 If any of the neighbors would happen in it would play 
 hobs with Spix's Markley chances. His first wife was 
 so clean that she scraped the cracks of her kitchen 
 floor with a toothpick ; an' kep' a scrapin', I guess, till 
 she gradually scraped herself out of the world." 
 
 " It tickles Jin to fill our hair full of dust, so she 
 can scold us for letting our scalps get dirty," said Clem, 
 plaintively. 
 
 " Clear out of the dust then,' said Jennie, positively. 
 " You have all out-doors to stand in, I reckon, without 
 clutterin' up the kitchen till I can't sweep." 
 
 After the dust subsided Tude inquired why they 
 didn't all go upstairs after their presents.
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. QI 
 
 " I wonder, now, if she'd give me a knife with two 
 blades. I want one awful bad," said Clem, looking 
 inquiringly at Charlie, who looked back at him and 
 said, as he slid gradually off the kitchen table: 
 
 " I reckon she don't know I want a Robinson 
 Crusoe." 
 
 "And I," sighed Cora, "am just crazy for a new 
 dress." 
 
 " Well, you'll take none from her," snapped Jennie, 
 flinging the broom back of the door. 
 
 " Now, Caudle, you're just mad 'cause she won't 
 give you nothin'," said Charlie ; " I'm goin' right 
 straight upstairs, an' if she's anything to offer, I'll 
 pocket it. Come on, Clem." 
 
 They started for a race. 
 
 " No, boys !" Jennie's voice rang out somewhat like 
 Sheridan's when he shouted : " Turn, boys, turn ; we're 
 going back." The boys turned. 
 
 " It isn't because she's trying to slight me," Jennie 
 went on. " I wouldn't have her old trumpery, and she 
 knows it. No doubt she's got a trunk half full of old 
 cast-off duds and second-hand Christmas gifts that she 
 thinks she'll dispose of by pokin' them off onto us. I'd 
 sooner throw them into her face than take them, and 
 so would the rest of you if you had any spunk." 
 
 " Spunk's the main thing !" groaned Charlie. " Oh, 
 ye gooseberries ! How I wish we all had enough of it." 
 
 " I don't see what harm it would be to take what 
 she offers us," pleaded Cora. " We're never able to
 
 92 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 buy anything, and I don't see why we should always 
 be too spunky to take what is offered to us." 
 
 " No, you don't," said Jennie, pushing the table 
 back against the wall with a series of deafening squeaks. 
 " You haven't a bit more spirit than a June chicken. 
 You'd stand there half asleep and hold out your apron 
 for a present if one of the St. Johns offered it. You 
 really would." 
 
 "Oh, Jen! You know I wouldn't." 
 
 " Yes, you would. You'd wear old cast-off shoes 
 and gloves that Trix Collins offered you !" 
 
 " Wait and see, madam !" said Cora, beginning to 
 get " roused.' 
 
 " I've got the pride of my race in my veins, and 
 you ought to have the pride of yours. The Fairfaxes 
 were always above letting anybody patronize them ; 
 but your ancestors might as well have been Cahills 
 or Grimses for all the good an old name does you." 
 
 "Well, now, Jen, what's the use to scold so?" 
 pleaded Cora. " Pride won't put shoes on your feet 
 nor dresses on your back. You know I haven't a dress 
 to my name that is really fit to wear, an' my best shoes 
 are more ' holey ' than righteous." 
 
 " What of that ? .Have / anything to wear ?" 
 
 " You had a new hat last summer, while *I haven't 
 had one for three years." 
 
 " I'd rob a milliner's store, Code, I would indeed, 
 'fore I'd go into winter quarters in that hat of yours," 
 said Charlie. " It looked like a hornet's nest when it
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 93 
 
 was new, and now it looks like the home of a field 
 mouse." 
 
 "'Taint so!" said Cora, indignantly. 
 
 "A stuffed bat and one or two dried grasshoppers 
 might chirk it up a bit !" said Charlie. " But I think 
 it would hardly pass at that." 
 
 " You've your black alpaca," said Cora, ignoring 
 Charlie's last taunt, though smarting under it. 
 
 " My black alpaca !" echoed Jennie with an inde- 
 scribable accent. " It was clear out of date last winter ; 
 it's impossible now. And besides it has faded out as 
 green as grass. I always feel like I want to crawl 
 into a knot-hole when I get into company in that rig 
 I can hardly bear to look up.' 
 
 "A regular back number," said Charlie. " But I 
 like you best in it, Jen, because you can never find your 
 tongue when you wear it.' 
 
 " You looked so stylish in it at first." 
 
 " I thought I did because I didn't know any better." 
 
 " You mean people hadn't got to puttin' on so 
 much dog at Bethany," said Charlie. 
 
 " That's it. Nobody wears alpaca now. I never 
 dare stand near any of the girls in their new cashmeres 
 r.nd henriettas. It makes me feel like an old umbrella 
 that has bleached out green in the rain and sun." 
 
 " But still has its snap," whispered Charlie. 
 
 Tude now quite innocently " put the cap on the 
 climax." 
 
 "You just ought to have seen Lele's black silk!"
 
 94 
 
 she panted, as though overpowered by a sudden recol- 
 lection of its richness. " I heard such a rustlin' that 
 I thought she was makin' up the straw tick, an' so I 
 peeped in to see what she was at, an' saw her shakin' 
 x out her silk. It was fixed up fine enough for anybody's 
 second-day dress all a-glitterin' with jet" 
 
 " Wouldn't your ole alapacker cut -a figure along 
 side it at Bethany Church?" said Charlie, glancing at 
 Jennie and feeling half sorry for her, boy as he was, 
 she looked so miserable. 
 
 " Why, I wouldn't go into Bethany Church with 
 her for anything on earth," Jennie exclaimed, beneath 
 whose dark eyes unshed tears were casting shadows. 
 " If she stays here a month of Sundays I'll never go 
 to meeting with her. I'll let her know she's in the 
 wrong pew when she comes here to spread around in 
 her fine silks." 
 
 " It does look mean when she knows we've nothing 
 to dress on," sighed Cora. 
 
 "An' that wasn't the only one, either," added Tude, 
 glorifying in her role of reporter. " She's got a brown 
 silk finer than Mary St. John's weddin' dress. It's 
 just that fine it hurts your eyes to look at it!" 
 
 "And she knows we're up to the eyes in debt," cried 
 Jennie. " She can't help knowing how much bad luck 
 we've had and how little we've got to live on. Yet 
 she's never once sent us so much as a hair ribbon all 
 these years. She's a chip off the old block, she is." 
 
 " In other words, a female Ome," observed the 
 undutiful Charlie.
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 95 
 
 ' I'll bet her presents won't amount to a hill of 
 beans, anyhow," Jennie went on. " There'll be some 
 toy books for each of you boys, an' an old sunshade 
 for Code. Like as not she's got a pair of soiled gloves 
 for me, and a necktie apiece for Ed and Syd. You'll 
 not catch her givin' away anything of value. She's 
 been too well trained for that. They say her aunt and 
 uncle were two of the stingiest old coots in all this 
 part of the country." 
 
 " Besides their inherited screwism" Charlie added. 
 
 " Tude's doll must have cost something," suggested 
 Cora. 
 
 " It's an old one of Lele's dressed up, I'll warrant." 
 
 " Well, I don't believe I want any of her presents," 
 said Clem slowly. 
 
 " Jen won't let us go upstairs 'fear we'll get some- 
 thing nice an' she won't," said Charlie. " Better let 
 us go, 'Sphixia ; maybe she'll relent an' send you some- 
 thin', after all." 
 
 Charlie had several pet names for Jennie, such as 
 Miss Asphyxia, Xantippe, Mrs. Poyser, Caudle, etc. 
 When he wanted to twit her on her age he called her 
 " ole nineteener." 
 
 " Oh, go, go by all means," sneered Jennie ; " but 
 if she gives you some old nursery rhymes, or a cotton 
 handkerchief, or a stick of hoarhound candy, it will 
 be just good for you. If you haven't pride enough 
 to show yourself independent of her charity you deserve 
 to get bit."
 
 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I guess I'll not bother goin' up," said Cora, slowly. 
 
 " Well, if nobody else will go I won't !" said Charlie, 
 walking so heavily out of the room that he shook some 
 of the pans off the shelf in his anger.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LEI.E AND JENNIE. 
 
 After waiting for some time for the children to 
 come and get their presents Lele became convinced that 
 Tude had either forgotten to deliver her message, or 
 that Jennie had interfered ; so she decided to take the 
 presents downstairs herself. 
 
 Upon thinking the matter over, she concluded that 
 it would be best to give them to Jennie for distribution. 
 Lele's anger, always short-lived, had already abated, 
 and she determined at all hazards to establish friendly 
 relations with the unhappy girl. It was inexpressibly 
 sad to see one so young steeped, as it were, to the very 
 lips in gall. This state of mind must have resulted 
 from a combination of unfortunate circumstances 
 whose nature Lele only partly comprehended. Accord- 
 ingly, " with malice toward none, with charity for all," 
 she bravely took up her armful of presents and went 
 down, bent on "bearding the Douglas in her hall." But 
 when, upon reaching the foot of the stairs, Jennie 
 emerged from the parlor with a broom and dustpan 
 in her hands, Lele's courage began to ebb. For the 
 fiftieth time she wished herself, trunks and presents 
 back at the station with the west-bound express just 
 due. There was that in Jen's glance, her expression, 
 
 (7) (97)
 
 98 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 her whole attitude that would have intimidated even 
 a war correspondent. Lele's feet seemed at that 
 moment to be fuller of thoughts than her head ; it was 
 with the greatest difficulty that she could keep them 
 from carrying her back to her room with all haste. 
 
 " I have some little presents for the children that 
 I should like for you to distribute. Will you, Jennie?" 
 she was greatly relieved to hear herself say when at 
 last she recovered her presence of mind. " Here is a 
 volume of poems for you, and the others are each 
 marked with the owner's name." 
 
 Half a dozen little gifts are sure to look rather 
 liberal in the eyes of a good-natured, sweet-tempered 
 giver accustomed to look upon such things as merely 
 a proof of good-will, ornamental perhaps, but not 
 necessarily useful. In the eyes of the recipients they 
 may appear positively niggardly. Jen, moreover, was 
 just now in a mood to spurn any friendly offering made 
 by the owner of those rustling silks. She stood silent, 
 her eyes growing visibly larger, darker, more unsmiling 
 than usual, the strong, white teeth sinking with a spas- 
 modic movement into the full, tremulous underlip. 
 
 " I hope you like Longfellow, Jennie," Lele went 
 on, seeing that the other made no attempt to take the 
 book she held out. "If not, I can easily exchange it for 
 some favorite of yours." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself," said stony-hearted Jen- 
 nie: "/ never read poetry, or anything else. I've no 
 time. You better give it to somebody who has." 
 
 " I'm sorry I didn't know that," said Lele, pleas-
 
 LELE AND JENNIE. 99 
 
 antly. "What would you prefer instead of a book?" 
 
 " I really don't care anything about presents, and 
 I don't think any of the rest do, either. When people 
 can give nothing they should accept nothing." 
 
 " But, Jennie, I wish to give each of you something 
 as a token of friendship. None of the gifts are val- 
 uable. You need have no scruples about accepting 
 them. All I ask in return is as much friendship as 
 prompts their offering." 
 
 " I see they are not particularly valuable," said 
 Jennie, cruelly. " We are in need of a good many 
 things here, but not any of what you have to offer. 
 And as for friendship it can not be so easily pur- 
 chased." 
 
 Lele looked bewildered. 
 
 " What have I done to make you hate me so?" she 
 cried. 
 
 " Who said I hated you ?" 
 
 " Nothing but hate could make you treat me in 
 this way, Jennie." 
 
 The two girls stood a few steps apart, gazing 
 steadily into each other's eyes. There was bitter defi- 
 ance in Jennie's, but neither anger nor contempt in 
 the clear brown eyes of her fair young step-sister. 
 Only pity and wonder were mirrored there. 
 
 After vainly trying to outlook one whom she per- 
 sisted in considering an .-avowed enemy, the angry girl 
 said: 
 
 " I know we're bad, but I don't think you can civ- 
 ilize us,"
 
 100 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Jennie." 
 
 " I suppose you've read in some Sunday-school 
 story about a girl that goes home after an absence of 
 several years and civilizes her father's family. It's 
 an old tale. Quite different in real life, though, from 
 what it is in books." 
 
 " In what .does it differ, Jennie ?" 
 
 " In books the heroine harnesses the whole family, 
 and drives them how and where she will. Everything 
 pans out exactly right. Drunkards are reformed ; 
 everybody gets religion politicians even! Poverty 
 and strife vanish; an obliging uncle in India dies just 
 at the right moment and leaves his fortune to the 
 heroine ; she marries and is rich and happy ever after. 
 Pah ! I hate such lying tales. ; ' 
 
 " I thought you had no time for reading!" said 
 Lele. 
 
 " I haven't for that kind of stuff. I got a distaste 
 for it when I was a child. And I don't have time 
 for anything better. When I have nothing else to do 
 I patch." 
 
 "And dream, I suppose," said Lele, thoughtfully. 
 
 " I've got something else to do but sit in a ham- 
 mock and imagine things, as you town girls do," said 
 Jennie. 
 
 Lele looked steadily at her rebellious hostess. 
 
 " Jennie," she said, pleadingly, " why do you treat 
 me so strangely? Am I your enemy?" 
 
 " You have never been my friend !" said Jennie, 
 coldly, " and as you have always had everything else
 
 AND JENNIE. IOI 
 
 you wanted all your life you can do without any friend- 
 ship of mine. You don't need it." 
 
 " What have I that you have not ?" asked Lele. 
 
 *A college education." 
 
 " Have you been jealous of my educational advan- 
 tages all these years? 1 never suspected it." 
 
 " It's true I wanted an education," said Jennie, 
 sullenly. 
 
 " Don't blame me, Jennie. I was powerless to aid 
 you. My aunt and uncle cherished singular prejudices 
 against my father's family. Had they lived I never 
 could have come here at all. But as soon as I was 
 at liberty to do as I pleased in the matter I chose to 
 come here, that I might know you all. I felt so anxious 
 to meet you," the sweet voice faltered. " I took the 
 first opportunity to bridge the gulf that had always 
 been between us. I am so alone in the world, Jennie. 
 I do so long for brothers and sisters to love me." 
 
 " You've ignored us all these years." 
 
 "Auntie wouldn't allow me to hold any communi- 
 cation with my father's family, except to write to papa 
 once or twice a year. I never thought it right ; but 
 as I did not know that you really needed any help that 
 I could give, it seemed less wrong and unnatural to 
 me than it must have seemed to you. Will you not 
 let the past be forgotten and let us be friends for the 
 future?". 
 
 " I can't tell you what I've suffered the last few 
 years," said Jennie, slowly ; " I've got so I hate every- 
 body almost you among the rest. I've said often
 
 IO2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 that if you ever came here to visit I'd drive you away. 
 You've had a good time all your life, but you can't 
 fare any better than the rest of us here." 
 
 "Am I to blame," asked Lele, " for my aunt's 
 wishes while she lived, or for her will when she died?" 
 
 " I suppose not.' 
 
 "And why blame me because I did not visit you 
 or try to help you sooner? I came at the earliest pos- 
 sible moment. How was I received?" 
 
 " With shameful lack of courtesy, I'll admit," said 
 Jennie, with blazing cheeks. " I'm sorry." 
 
 " Then why do you still hold me at a distance ? 
 Oh, Jennie, Jennie, why will you not let me love you 
 and help you?" 
 
 But for Jennie's evil genius she would have thrown 
 her arms around the lovely, beseeching girl and all 
 would have been forever right between them. But 
 Jennie's prejudice had been growing too long to be 
 easily uprooted. She shook off the hand that would 
 have rested caressingly on her shoulder. It was just 
 the loving touch she so much needed, but the hand was 
 white as a lily, soft as satin and adorned with a costly 
 ring. Jennie clenched her own toil-worn, sunburned 
 hands and looked sullenly away. A beautiful white 
 hand was one source of ungratified longing with her, 
 and among all other gifts Lele must needs possess this 
 one, too. 
 
 " Jennie," said Lele, in a very winning tone, " I 
 should like to have you know me as I am, and not as 
 you imagine me."
 
 AND JENNIE. 103 
 
 Jennie was silent. It nearly killed her to con- 
 template the prospect of an extended visit from Lele. 
 Shame and regret only added piquancy to her dislike 
 for her fortunate step-sister. 
 
 " I really can not stay if you don't want me," said 
 Lele, ready to burst into tears. 
 
 " You needn't mind me," Jennie contrived to utter. 
 "You came to see your father and Ed, I suppose. I 
 haven't any right to drive you away from them." 
 
 " I can not stay as their guest if you do not want 
 me." 
 
 " I am awfully sorry I've treated you so," said 
 Jennie, deeply humiliated. " I wouldn't, only I'm so 
 miserable, and I've misunderstood you so," she added 
 humbly. 
 
 " Then you will not refuse my little gift ?" 
 
 "I I don't deserve it," stammered the 
 wretched girl, and she burst into tears. Lele, touched 
 with pity, led her gently into the parlor and closed 
 the door. Words spoken now to that rebellious heart 
 would have been worse than wasted. Lele, quite 
 unconsciously, did the wisest thing she could have 
 done cried as hard as Jennie did. Tears were as 
 much a relief to one as to the other. But little was 
 said afterwards. 
 
 An hour later, Jennie having gone up to her room 
 to meditate on her misdeeds and consider Lele's friendly 
 overtures before deciding to capitulate, Lele went out 
 to the swing in the back yard (where the children were 
 congregated) to distribute their presents, feeling very
 
 IO4 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 much like a doctor vaccinating a group of unwilling 
 school children, gratis. Acting upon Jennie's instruc- 
 tions, they seemed uncertain what to do, and would 
 gladly have declined the little gifts she offered rather 
 than face Jen and her succeeding curtain lecture. 
 
 At last, feeling that she had missed it all around in 
 the gift-making line, Lele inquired if any of them were 
 going to church at Bethany. 
 
 " I guess not," said Cora. " The preacher preaches 
 forever, an' drolls it out so it makes your head buzz 
 to hear him." 
 
 " When do they have Sunday-school ?" 
 
 "At two in the afternoon ; preachin' 's at three. 
 You ought to hear the flies buzz there these hot after- 
 noons !" 
 
 " Don't any of you go ?" 
 
 " Hardly ever. Jin and Syd both got mad 'cause 
 they treated 'em so mean 'bout the singin'. I don't 
 like to go to Bethany ; they dress up so !" 
 
 " How far is it ?" 
 
 "A mile an' a half or so. We used to ride, but 
 now pap's sold the buggy an' spring wagon we have 
 t' walk. It's no snap this weather I c'n tell you. You 
 goin' ?" 
 
 " I will if I can get anybody to show me the way. 
 Will YOU, Cora?" 
 
 " Oh I can't," said Cora, slowly. She was 
 thinking of her shabby clothes. Lele put the same 
 question to the boys. 
 
 Charlie and Clem, rather ashamed of their grace-
 
 LELE AND JENNIE. 105 
 
 less manner heretofore, would have consented gladly 
 if they had, either of them, possessed a whole suit that 
 was fit to wear to Bethany. 
 
 But the fact was that they hardly ever were lucky 
 enough to get spring suits until about the Fourth of 
 July, and that kept them mostly at home all spring. 
 On this score they felt compelled to decline the honor 
 of escorting their new sister to church. 
 
 " She'd be ashamed of us," thought Charlie. "An' 
 besides I don't propose to risk bein' guyed again soon 
 by the Bethany boys as- I was last time I was there 
 in that ole skimpy, hedgehog suit of mine." 
 
 Tude, when appealed to, gave ready consent, being 
 as yet indifferent to the cut of her clothes. 
 
 Unpleasant as these scenes had been, one yet more 
 distressing lay before Lele. She felt that she must see 
 Ed, who had never been entirely absent from her wak- 
 ing thoughts since the previous evening. Through 
 Tude she procured a cup of tea, and the two went up 
 and knocked at Ed's door. 
 
 " Who's there ?' demanded a surly voice very much 
 like that in which Sir Wolf addressed Little Red Rid- 
 ing Hood. 
 
 " It's Lele, Ed," said his sister's soft voice. " May 
 I come in? I've got a cup of tea for you." 
 
 Ed growled out something equivalent to " Lift the 
 latch," and the two girls entered, little Tude sniffing 
 contemptuously as the scent of liquor saluted her little 
 nose. 
 
 Ed, deathly sick, and nearly crazed with headache,
 
 IO6 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 lay with one ami doubled up under his head, the other 
 hand grasping a newspaper with which he was fighting 
 the flies. Though both door and window were now 
 open, the combined odor of whisky and tobacco nearly 
 made Lele sick, while the purple face with bloodshot 
 eyes peering over the old ragged quilt was an object 
 to inspire disgust and loathing rather than pity or love. 
 It seemed such a needless state, such a uselessly degrad- 
 ing position that she could scarcely force herself to 
 approach him. But by a determined effort she spoke 
 cheerfully, and forbore looking at him because she 
 saw it made him angry. 
 
 " Cora made you some tea, Ed. and I coaxed her to 
 let me bring it up, as your head was aching so badly. 
 Won't you drink it?" 
 
 Ed shuddered at the sound of her voice, and shrank 
 as though from a blow. 
 
 Her manner, her words, her very voice reminded 
 him painfully, but vividly, of his gentle step-mother, 
 who had come up to his room with a cup of tea on 
 the morning after he had first come home intoxicated. 
 How tenderly and sorrowfully she had talked with him 
 then ! He remembered now, more clearly than at any 
 time since she died, how pale she had looked that morn- 
 ing, how feeble and languid she had seemed, and how 
 she had trembled from the exertion of coming upstairs. 
 How his face had burned with shame, feeling that he 
 could never look into her pure face again, now he 
 had disgraced himself. He had promised her, humbly 
 enough, that he would never enter a saloon again, and
 
 AND JENNIE. IO/ 
 
 while she lived, he had kept his word. But, since, there 
 had been so much to drive him into dissipation that he 
 had scarcely cared what he did. Even his father's 
 tenderest words had been: 
 
 " I'll horsewhip you within an inch of your life, 
 you dog, if ever I catch you drunk again."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 BETHANY. 
 
 Lele left Ed's room almost disheartened. She had 
 talked with him gently, affectionately, earnestly, as only 
 a loving Christian wife, sister or mother can. She had 
 begged him, as he valued decency and manhood in this 
 world and peace in the next, to dissolve the partnership 
 in the firm of " Satan and Fairfax," of which he was 
 the junior member, taken into the firm only to be 
 fleeced and ruined. 
 
 How much influence she had wielded she could not 
 tell, when she left the room and went sadly down stairs 
 again. Her usually buoyant spirits had deserted her, 
 and she felt depressed and sorrowful. She feared that 
 it was but a repetition of her talk with Jennie, so far 
 as any hopeful results were concerned. And it sad- 
 dened her, too, to observe that her aptitude for making 
 friends had deserted her. Even Syd appeared averse to 
 cultivating her friendship, and her very father ignored 
 her. The only drop of consolation lay in the fact that 
 she had won little Tude. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Contrary to anticipation, Mr. Fairfax called Lele 
 into the sitting-room the moment she went down stairs, 
 
 ( 108)
 
 BETHANY. 109 
 
 and continued to talk to her until near noon, which 
 should have established friendly relations between 
 them ; but as the talk ran almost exclusively upon a 
 new turnpike which he had been chiefly instrumental 
 in securing, not much progress was made. 
 
 Lele listened at first with interest, then with 
 patience. But finding the theme inexhaustible if not 
 interrupted, she finally attempted to change the subject 
 by questioning him concerning family affairs. 
 
 " Well, really," he said, removing his gold eyeglass 
 for the fiftieth time and polishing them with his silk 
 handkerchief, " I have but little time to see to the farm ; 
 I leave that mostly to Syd. My tenants are, as I 
 understand, a very shackling set of fellows. I have 
 never succeeded in securing any that bring me any 
 profit, and I am sure I can not tell why, for they all 
 come well recommended. Syd is to blame, I think, for 
 their doing so badly. If he only had the knack of get- 
 ting along better with his workmen, there would be no 
 trouble. But he expects perfection, and when he finds 
 in a tenant any of the little foibles that the class seem 
 to claim as a right, he has a falling out with them, and 
 their usefulness is at an end. There's Jack Grimes, 
 now a better fellow never lived, only he likes beer 
 and fishing too well. And Scott Higgins and his boys 
 would rather work for anybody than themselves. Syd 
 has been trying for some time to get them all off the 
 place, but I tell him that if he can't get along with the 
 Grimes-Higgins faction, he couldn't do any better with
 
 110 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 a new set. He's spoiled every tenant I ever had just 
 by giving away to his temper, which is brittle as glass. 
 I tell him he really never will succeed until he learns 
 more self-control. I've given him most of the farm 
 management for the last four or five years, as I had 
 so many public duties to attend to, and thought it 
 would be a splendid opportunity to develop him as a 
 farmer. But, as I said, he doesn't appear to be doing 
 any good. I fear he will never master the art of 
 making money. Things are getting in worse shape 
 here very year; debts are accumulating, and there 
 seems no prospect, the way things are, of ever being 
 able to pay out." 
 
 . "I did not know this until I came here," Lele 
 replied. " I always imagined you one of the most pros- 
 perous farmers in the State. Aunt Roxy thought so, 
 I am sure, or she would have done more for Ed." 
 
 "Oh Ed!" Mr. Fairfax looked disgusted. "The 
 boy is a perfect shack, Lele, not worth his salt. \Yon't 
 work unless he's driven to it ; wants to be a machinist 
 fiddlesticks! He couldn't oil- an old clock without 
 smashing it. Ed thinks he's nbove farming, while if 
 he did but know it, he's fit for nothing else. A man 
 must be educated before he's fit for much else ; but 
 Ed has no education. When I sent him to the district 
 school he played hookey most of the time, or busied 
 himself by whittling grotesque toys, A\hich kept up a 
 hubbub among the little ones, and several times came 
 near getting him expelled. He's been a regular rab-
 
 BETHANY. Ill 
 
 scab all his days case of acute moral depravity, in 
 my opinion and if I ever let him gst away among 
 strangers he'll land in the penitentiary. Farming's the 
 best occupation for young men without much capital, 
 anyhow, and if they grow up uneducated, as my boys 
 have, it's about their only hope of ever being inde- 
 pendent. A man, you know, must be educated before 
 he can be fit for any other business ; but any fool can 
 farm. Fact is, Lelia, I've noticed it all my life the 
 less learning a man has, the better he can farm. The 
 more he reads, the less he. makes. Syd would succeed 
 far better if he read less. Here he takes a lot of 
 farm papers with their ridiculous expensive ways of 
 doing everything be better off without them. It 
 makes him discontented to pick up a paper and read 
 how fortunes have been made from all sorts of impos- 
 sible things. Like Jean, now " her step-father rarely 
 called her Jennie ''she's got crack-brained on the 
 subject of singing. A few years ago she was as happy 
 and contented a creature as you would wish to see. 
 Then along comes a music-beaddled professor out for 
 a summer vacation among our hills, and pretends to 
 discover that the child has a wonderful voice one 
 that would, if cultivated, make her famous. He said 
 four or five years' training would make a second Patti 
 of her. Stuff and nonsense! The fellow deserved a 
 booting. Jean sings quite well, it is true ; but as for 
 making a second Patti ! The thing is preposterous. 
 I tried to make her see the folly of listening to such
 
 112 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 blarney ; but she was so disappointed at being com- 
 pelled to stay at home and keep house after her mother 
 died, instead of teaching and studying vocal music, 
 that she gradually degenerated into the morose, fickle- 
 tempered creature you see her. It will take years to 
 put that folly out of her head. Whatever you do, 
 don't encourage her in it." 
 
 " Let me see," reflected Lele, when alone ; " Syd 
 reads too much and therefore is a failure as a farmer. 
 Ed is uneducated and so fit for nothing but farming. 
 Jennie, being a woman, must remain at home and 
 drudge for this large family, while the whole bent of 
 her nature is toward music, and even a piano denied 
 her. My dear father, you are short-sighted and nar- 
 row-minded. Yes, you are cruel to force these young 
 people out of the course Nature intended them to pur- 
 sue into one wholly distasteful." 
 
 Unpleasant as it had been to listen to these crit- 
 icisms, Lele had been glad enough to get this new 
 inkling into the cause of Jean's acrimony. It would 
 help her much in her intercourse with the wayward 
 girl. But to hear her father, a hale, hearty man, in 
 the prime of life, condemning his sons in such unmeas- 
 ured terms, made her ears tingle. It was not only 
 the boys that had failed in management, the father 
 proclaimed himself openly as the greater failure a 
 neglectful, unwise parent. 
 
 " I should have been like the rest if I had grown 
 up under his influence," she thought.
 
 BETHANY. 113 
 
 She went to the kitchen to see if dinner was ready, 
 as it was past 12, and she wished to leave for Sunday- 
 school before i. To her surprise, the fire had not 
 even been kindled, Jennie not being in the habit of 
 getting dinner until 2 o'clock on Sunday. 
 
 " I had intended to start for Sunday-school before 
 i," said Lele, vexed in spite of her efforts at self-con- 
 trol. 
 
 " Oh, well, I'll kindle the fire an' get dinner as 
 soon as I can," said Jennie, with the air of a kitchen 
 martyr. " The chicken won't cook in half an hour, 
 of course." 
 
 " Don't hurry dinner on my account ; I'll eat a 
 piece," said Lele, making a supreme effort to speak 
 cheerfully. 
 
 " Eat a piece !" Jennie looked at Lele as though it 
 was she whose manners were at fault. 
 
 " I'll wait for church if you'll go with me," said 
 Lele, conquering her temper at last. 
 
 " No, thank you," said Jennie, dryly ; " I don't care 
 to walk a mile and a half through the dust at this 
 time of day. One trip will do you, I guess," she added, 
 sourly. " The elite of the neighborhood will sweep by 
 you in their fine carriages. You'll be covered with 
 dust from head to foot." 
 
 " Dust, heat and fine carriages have no terrors for 
 me," said Lele, taking a bite out of a green apple that 
 Cora had offered her. " You needn't hurry dinner, 
 
 (8)
 
 114 TH E MAN WITH THE HOB. 
 
 Jennie," she repeated. " I'll eat some bread and butter 
 and have my chicken and canned corn when I return." 
 
 " Never saw such a girl in my life ! " declared 
 Charlie, when Lele was out of hearing. " She'd walk 
 up to a government mule and take him by the heels 
 for a dare, I do believe. If she keeps on she'll make 
 Sister Sniffles ashamed of herself yet." 
 
 Tude, when found, would not consent at first to 
 leave without her dinner, when they were to have 
 chicken and canned corn, not to mention peach pre- 
 serves and float. But Lele's conxing prevailed, and 
 the two soon set out, after lunching on cold fried ham 
 and bread and butter. Jennie watched them enviously 
 from the kitchen window, for Lele was dressed very 
 little better after all than she would have been. She 
 had set out suitably clad for a dusty walk, leaving 
 all her finery at home. 
 
 " I might have gone with her, after all,' she thought, 
 discontentedly. " I guess she'll not attract much atten- 
 tion in that rig." 
 
 Lele's total lack of self-consciousness made every- 
 thing she wore seem suited to her ; but Jennie was the 
 style of girl to require handsome clothes ; her con- 
 sciousness of every little defect made the defect itself 
 glaring. In consequence, a costume that one could 
 have worn v<ith ease and grace would have racked the 
 other's soul with torture. 
 
 The walk was, as Lele had anticipated, long, hot 
 and dusty. Like one of Mr. Fairfax's " philippics," it
 
 BETHANY. 115 
 
 seemed interminable ; but the end was reached at last. 
 The gray stone walls of Bethany Church appeared 
 among the trees, and Lele entered upon a new expe- 
 rience as she passed its weather-beaten portals. 
 
 Little whiffs of heated air came in through the long 
 windows of Bethany Church, and made those who were 
 reckless enough to venture forth to Sunday-school on 
 such a burning afternoon more acutely conscious of 
 discomfort. Even Ward Collins looked sleepy, and 
 Ward was noted for being bright and jolly even under 
 the most trying circumstances. 
 
 " How dull you are, Polly," said Keith Hubbard ; 
 "must have been up unusually late last night." 
 
 " Yes, I was over at Lowell at a fete ; had a beastly 
 slow time not a girl there I knew ! " 
 
 "And how did it happen Maud didn't go?" asked 
 Keith with assumed carelessness. 
 
 " Oh, we've quit." 
 
 " You're always telling that, and yet you never do 
 quit. I guess you're likely to marry." 
 
 " You're badly off, old fellow. I'm not going there 
 any more at all. Maud keeps too many fellows on 
 the string to suit me." 
 
 "You never flirt, of course." 
 
 " Not very seriously. There come Morris and 
 Ol Stuart arm in arm, as usual. They make me tired." 
 
 " I say, Polly, since you're out with Maud," sug- 
 gested Keith with studied indifference, " I guess I'll 
 call there this evening."
 
 ii6 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I don't care," said Ward, listlessly. 
 
 " There she comes up the aisle now," said Keith in 
 a nervous whisper. " Polly, I'm in luck ; she's favored 
 me with a beaming smile and never glanced at you." 
 
 " I don't care," said Ward again, in a tone of deeper 
 dejection. 
 
 "But, Polly" 
 
 " Don't Polly me," retorted Ward, beginning to be 
 half angry. And then suddenly, as his eyes wandered 
 to the door, they lit up with a flash of delight. " Oh, 
 Hubby, who is that deliciously pretty girl coming 
 in? She's a new one to me." 
 
 " That ? Old Fairfax's daughter, I suppose. I 
 heard she had come. She's a right good-looking girl." 
 
 "Hubby, you're an idiot. She's as sweet as a 
 peach, and I'm dying for an introduction. Stay! I 
 think I can contrive to get one." 
 
 He beckoned the superintendent and whispered a 
 few words in his ear. There were objections, but 
 Ward persisted, and finally, as he had requested, 
 Miss Fairfax was induced to teach the class consisting 
 of Ward Collins, Keith Hubbard, Morris St. John and 
 Ol Stuart. 
 
 Lele looked somewhat rebellious when she dis- 
 covered who were to be her pupils ; but the whole class 
 and superintendent offering one combined entreaty for 
 her to remain, she took charge, temporarily, in the 
 absence of the regular teacher. 
 
 Lele wore a pale blue gingham dress very plainly
 
 BETHANY. 117 
 
 made, and a wide, drooping hat of rough, white straw. 
 She was a slender, graceful girl, and everything she 
 wore seemed suited to her. No one ever saw her 
 with an ill-fitting gown, or glove, or shoe. But she 
 did not care for dress, except that it should be suited 
 to the occasion. She would never have thought of 
 donning handsome and stylish garments to walk a 
 mile and a half through the dust with Tude to church. 
 But she would have been a fascinating girl in a much 
 less attractive costume than she wore. The exquisite 
 tints of her complexion, the lovely eyes under the long, 
 brown lashes, the delicately penciled eyebrows, glossy 
 brown hair and sensitive, sweet, expressive mouth 
 would have won attention for her from any one. Lele 
 was not a girl to be slighted on any account, and, as 
 a matter of fact, she never had been slighted until she 
 came home. As she sat there, chatting over the lesson 
 with those four respectful, eagerly attentive young 
 men she felt in her natural element again. She seemed 
 to have re-entered a healthy, happy, care-free, social 
 atmosphere. 
 
 There was five minutes' intermission before service 
 began, and Ward, at least, made good use of the time 
 in forming her acquaintance. The impression the gay, 
 good-natured young fellow made was far from dis- 
 agreeable. 
 
 A long, dull sermon was preached to a weary and 
 nodding congregation. The flies buzzed in the win- 
 dows, the hot sun poured in through the uncurtained
 
 n8 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 panes.; in the tree-tops outside the faint breezes sick- 
 ened and died. The air was full of far-away summer 
 sounds, and the perfume of roses in the church-yard. 
 A few couples sat on slabs under the weeping willow 
 and flirted decorously all during the sermon, under 
 the scrutinizing eye of Mrs. Stuart, who sat bolt 
 upright in one of the front pews and noted the text 
 and points of the sermon in her intervals of espionage 
 over the young people in the churchyard. Airs. Stuart 
 was more than a pillar ; she was a sort of modern, 
 Americanized Mrs. McFadyan. The sick and missing 
 were frequently regaled with a rehash of the sermon 
 from her lips. 
 
 Maud St. John, far less devout, was sorry through- 
 out the sermon that her propensity for flirting had 
 temporarily alienated Ward. Though she felt that his 
 attentions to the young stranger were probably only 
 prompted by jealousy which indeed was largely true 
 it was possible that he might soon become really 
 interested in a girl like Lele, which was highly unde- 
 sirable, since Ward was so far the best ' 'catch " she 
 had ever found. 
 
 Keith Hubbard sat also with his mind abstracted 
 from the sermon through the whole preaching hour. 
 If Lele only would captivate Ward, and thus leave 
 him a fair field in which to win Maud ! Alice Stuart, 
 in her turn, cast shy glances at Keith, his image sadly 
 disturbing the reflection of the sermon in her soul. 
 Keith was the onlv beau Alice had ever had in all the
 
 BETHANY. 119 
 
 twenty years of her life, and he had only occasionally 
 called when Maud had other company. Alice, who 
 was a devout little thing, prayed fervently in her foolish 
 young heart, not for the heathen, as the minister sug- 
 gested, but that Ward would " make it up for good " 
 with Maud, and Keith return to her. 
 
 Mrs. Stuart always required the children to repeat 
 the text when they returned from church. Alice won- 
 dered if she ever could forget this one : 
 
 "As a lily among thorns, so is my lore among the 
 daughters ! " shouted forth at short intervals until it 
 finally rang meaningless. 
 
 "That's just twenty-five times he has said it," 
 whispered Ward in Lele's ear. " I do believe he means 
 the text expressly for you. There goes twenty-six, I 
 declare ! " And again, for lack of discourse, appar- 
 ently, the same words were called out in tones of 
 thunder from the pulpit. 
 
 " It's appropriate," said Ward. " I never shall for- 
 get it." 
 
 The deacons sat like graven images in the Amen 
 corner, one fast asleep, the other busily speculating on 
 the probabilities of rain before he got his wheat all 
 put up. The preacher repeated the text a few more 
 times, prosed away another half-hour without once 
 formulating the shadow of a practical idea, and finally, 
 to everybody's intense relief, got through, and the con- 
 gregation, making a combined rush for the shady 
 churchyard, settled down to what seemed the real
 
 I2O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 object of their coming out on such a blistering after- 
 noon a thorough exchange of gossip. The only 
 ones who did not enjoy it were twelve men who had 
 remained outside to discuss chinch bugs, and were now 
 out of something to talk about. 
 
 Ward Collins was beside Lele with that perfect 
 assurance of being wanted that not more than one 
 in a thousand can assume without appearing " push- 
 ing." 
 
 " You'll not mind if I stay wifeh you and introduce 
 you to some people ? " he questioned with boyish frank- 
 ness. " I don't believe any of your folks are here, are 
 they?" 
 
 " None but Tude, and I don't see her," replied Lele, 
 glancing about her. 
 
 " I saw Tude and some of those Grimes children 
 chasing a pig up the road shortly after Sunday-school 
 one of their pets, probably, that had escaped from 
 its pen. So as you are alone, I'll be glaehto accom- 
 pany you home, if you'll let me," looking at her with 
 heightened color and just the faintest show of diffi- 
 dence. 
 
 " How kind you are," said Lele, with' graceful 
 acceptance of the proffered attention. " I hope I shall 
 not be taking you out of your way." 
 
 " No ; you couldn't ! " with a smile and glance that 
 turned the words into a compliment. 
 
 Ward introduced a nice, fair, middle-aged woman 
 and a little bov in blonde curls and the sweetest of
 
 BETHANY. 121 
 
 Fauntleroy suits, as his mother and his little brother. 
 The latter glanced knowingly at Lele while his mother 
 talked. 
 
 " I know you, I do," he said. " Don't let on what 
 I told you, will you ? " 
 
 "Why, when did you ever meet Miss Fairfax?" 
 asked Ward. " I guess you must be mistaken in the 
 lady, Roy." 
 
 " I guess I ain't, either," retorted Roy. "Didn't 
 you see me playin' in the mud one evenin'," appealing 
 to Lele. 
 
 " Yes, I believe I did. I hope you caught no cold 
 from playing in the mud." 
 
 " No ; but Ward found me an' paddled me for 
 stayin' out so late, an' I throwed mud on his white 
 vest so he couldn't go to the party at Stuart's," said 
 Roy, holding his hat, brim down, with both hands, and 
 kicking out first one short fat leg and then the other. 
 
 " Roy is a case, Miss Fairfax," said Ward. "And 
 some time when he is holding to his hat-brim in that 
 style it will give way and let him fall over backward 
 and break his backbone. Lots of little boys," added 
 the teasing brother gravely, " break their backs in 
 just that way, and have to crawl around like w r oolly 
 worms all the rest of their days." 
 
 " Oh, you big story-teller ! " defiantly. " You're 
 always tellin' me that, an' I ain't never fell yet, an' 
 I ain't goin' to ; so there ! " But, as if in contradiction, 
 an extra flourish of his defiant heels stretched him
 
 122 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 flat on the grass, where his terrified howls brought a 
 number of girls to his assistance. 
 
 Maud St. John was the first to snatch up the " dear, 
 darling child '' and ask if he was much hurt, knock- 
 ing over a poor woman's toddling baby in her excite- 
 ment, and not even pausing to inquire whether it was 
 hurt. Whereat Ward, repressing a smile, winked at 
 Keith, who, in turn, repressed a sigh, and walked off. 
 
 " How do, Maud," said Ward, with just a spice 
 of malice in his gay voice. "My friend, Miss St. John, 
 Miss Fairfax." 
 
 Maud held out her hand with a most captivating 
 smile. 
 
 " So glad to welcome you to Bethany Ridge," she 
 said. " I heard you had come here to stay, and hope 
 it is true." 
 
 " No, Maud, you don't hope any such thing," Ward 
 thought, while Lele was discoursing upon the prob- 
 able brevity of her visit. " But I hope she will." 
 
 Lele had seen Maud and a pretty brunette whis- 
 pering about her over their fans. Before long the 
 pretty brunette came up and was introduced as his 
 sister. She was very unlike Ward in manner and 
 appearance, and did not make any friendly advances 
 toward improving her acquaintance with Lele. She 
 merely bowed, spoke a few polite nothings as she took 
 in the details of Lele's toi 1 ette, and then excused herself 
 on the plea that her escort was waiting. Morris 
 St. John had just driven up to the church steps and
 
 BETHANY. 123 
 
 stood ready to assist her into the buggy. He bowed 
 and smiled to Lele as they drove away, but Trix never 
 turned her head. Maud St. John was her best friend, 
 and it always angered her to see Ward interested in 
 any other girl. Trix meant that some day Aland 
 should be a sister to her in more ways than one. As 
 for those Fairfaxes bah ! she hated them. 
 
 " If you are not particular about going soon, we'll 
 not hurry," said Ward, in that jolly tone, as Lele 
 began to recover from the chill of his sister's presence. 
 " There are lots of people here who will be glad to 
 meet you, Miss Fairfax." 
 
 Lele was in no hurry, so they lingered, and Ward 
 contrived to introduce her to nearly all the young 
 people present. The St. John girls interested her 
 more than the others, Maud in particular, since she was 
 supposed to have wrought such havoc with Syd's heart. 
 Maud was a blonde and very attractive. Kitty, though 
 plainer, seemed far more friendly. She would have 
 monopolized the whole attention if she could. Charlie 
 had aptly nick-named her " Maud's Burr," because she 
 always attached herself to whoever would otherwise 
 be in Maud's way. She was not clever, but what she 
 lacked in wit, she made up in cheek. And it was won- 
 derful how useful she could make herself upon occa- 
 sion. 
 
 The half-hour allotted to gossip sped quicklv 
 enough, and Ward, always delighted to form the 
 acquaintance of a pretty girl, and one who, moreover,
 
 124 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 could prove herself attractive to others, felt strangely 
 elated when he assisted her into his new buggy and 
 drove away with his matched blacks prancing in their 
 silver-mounted harness. The other fellows stood back 
 and stared at him in blank envy. Ward laughed when 
 he thought of the row of dolorous faces.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 
 
 " I guess you came the Ridge road, didn't you, Miss 
 Fairfax? " Ward asked. " It's the nearest, but, if you 
 don't mind, we'll go back by the sawmill. It isn't half 
 so dusty, and besides you'll get a chance to see the new 
 pike your father is interested in." 
 
 " Oh, let's go by way of the new pike," said Lele. 
 " I may not get another chance of seeing it while I'm 
 here." 
 
 "Are you going so soon ? " looking disappointed. 
 
 " The last of the week, I think." 
 
 "The last of the week?" echoed Ward. "Why, 
 Miss Fairfax, don't think of going away until after the 
 Danbury Fair. It's the event of the whole summer. 
 Everybody goes, and the ones who don't have a good 
 time must be incapable of enjoying themselves. I 
 often wonder if there was another set of young people 
 who have as much fun as we on Bethany Ridge, espe- 
 cially during the fair. It's a carnival, I tell you." 
 
 " Which proves that you must be ' in the swim ' 
 in order to see the bright side of life," thought Lele. 
 
 " I was hoping I might have the pleasure of being 
 your escort on Thursday or Friday/' he went on. " It's 
 not far off only till the first week in August." 
 
 (125)
 
 126 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 "That seems very distant to me/' said Lele, thought- 
 fully. " I could not make any engagement so far 
 ahead, thank you." 
 
 " If, however, you are here at that time, I want 
 you to remember that my buggy is at your service." 
 
 " I am not in the least danger of forgetting," said 
 Lele, smiling. 
 
 As the buggy glided into a byroad shaded by tall 
 trees, Ward drew rein and made the high-stepping, 
 shiny-coated steeds travel at a more leisurely speed. 
 
 " I like this road on a hot afternoon," he said, with 
 a sigh of content which was the very keynote of his 
 gay, care-free nature. " It is so cool and delicious 
 here that one does not even wish to hurry, though a 
 mad race through the dust would suit my horses much 
 better. How do you like my new matches, Miss 
 Fairfax? This is the first time I ever drove them 
 together." 
 
 " I never saw a handsomer team," said Lele, think- 
 ing how delightful it would be to possess them. 
 " Have you just bought them?" 
 
 " No ; I've had the off one for three years raised 
 it, in fact. The other came into my possession last 
 week. It's a colt that Syd McKnight raised, intending 
 to keep it as a buggy horse for his sisters. But for 
 some reason his step-father sold it and the buggy, too, 
 just as its training was completed. We had offered to 
 buy it from Syd, but he wouldn't part with the animal 
 at all. Isn't she a beauty? Syd and I got up quite a
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 127 
 
 rivalry to see who could keep his colt in the best con- 
 dition. We were as careful of them as if they were 
 worth thousands. After all the horse names in the 
 calendar had been suggested, we named them Venus 
 and Diana, for we wanted nothing common like Bet 
 or Doll, Kit or Bell. Oh, dear, what a pet Venus 
 used to be at your house. And I don't wonder when 
 I think what a time they had raising her, and how, 
 owing to their bad fences, she had been hurt several 
 times, and doctored and cared for like a human being. 
 You ought to have heard the girls cry when the man 
 took her away. Even Syd did, I guess." 
 
 " I don't see how papa could sell her if she belonged 
 to Syd," said Lele, indignantly. 
 
 "Don't you?" Ward flecked a horsefly skillfully 
 from one of Diana's shining flanks and hesitated. " I 
 don't care to meddle in your affairs, Miss Fairfax, so 
 I won't say hozv he came to dispose of her.. It might 
 be that I didn't get the story straight, anyhow. I 
 wouldn't have mentioned the story at all, only Syd was 
 unjust enough to blame me for having her sold. I 
 offered to buy her of him, to be sure, for I thought 
 it might be he'd have to sell, and if he did, I wanted 
 her. I wouldn't have resorted to trickery to get her 
 from Syd for the world, though there's a current belief 
 here on Bethany Ridge that horse-trading sins don't 
 count. But I wouldn't have driven Venus to-day if 
 I'd known I was going to your home, for Syd won't 
 like *o see me driving her. I wouldn't if I were in
 
 128 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 his place. I never saw any one so cut up as he was 
 after his step-father sold her. But some people never 
 consider oh! I mustn't forget that I'm talking about 
 your father, Miss Fairfax." 
 
 "Were you and Syd friends before that?" 
 
 They were skirting the grim black sawmill with 
 its piles of lumber. 
 
 " We used to go to school together, and were great 
 friends indeed. Jen and I were friends, too. In fact, 
 we were sweethearts from the time we were in our 
 A-b-Abs until we got into our teens. Then somehow 
 we drifted apart. She used to keep me supplied with 
 cake, because I never could get enough I tell you, 
 her mamma could make good ones ! and I provided 
 her liberally with nuts and apples, made rings for her 
 out of bone buttons, and baskets and other trinkets 
 from peach stones. We were happy, rollicking chil- 
 dren in those days, Miss Fairfax." 
 
 Ward paused, but Lele appeared so interested that 
 he involuntarily continued: 
 
 " Jen and I were always in the same classes, but 
 Syd, though nearer my own age, was away ahead of 
 me in everything. He used to solve my problems for 
 me, and help me over the hard places. We were seat- 
 mates year after year, and as I was usually in mischief, 
 his good conduct was all that saved me from disgrace. 
 Whenever the teacher became aware that, there was 
 disorder in our part of the room, I was generally down 
 half under the desk looking for a book, while Syd at
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 129 
 
 A 
 
 my side was working away at his everlasting arith- 
 metic, steady as a clock. My ! what larks I had with 
 old Syd to screen me ! " 
 
 Ward looked a little pensive when he recalled the 
 happy old school days gone forever, and with them 
 much of the friendship that had added zest to their 
 joy. 
 
 " Syd and Jen are changed since then," he resumed. 
 " They have grown so reserved and cool that I hardly 
 know what to make of them. It isn't all about Venus, 
 of course." A pause. " But now I've bought her I 
 don't expect either of them will ever speak to me 
 again. I know I shouldn't criticise them to you " 
 
 " It isn't as though I had always known them. I 
 am a stranger in my own father's house, Mr. Collins. 
 You are much better acquainted with the family than 
 I am," Lele replied. " But I have been led to believe 
 that they have reason to be a little cool toward some of 
 their neighbors." 
 
 " The Collinses, for instance," said Ward, with a 
 slight grimace. " Well, I know there are financial rea- 
 sons for both parties being a little standoffish. You 
 remember the old story of the ' poor debtor ' ' the 
 unfortunate debtor ' that used to be in one of the 
 old school readers ? A man is apt to consider a neigh- 
 bor a public benefactor if he will assume the character 
 of creditor ; but the longer he keeps that character, the 
 .more odious he gets in the eyes of his debtor. My 
 father's heart isn't made of eider-down, to be sure; 
 
 (9)
 
 130 THE; MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 but neither is he the ogre that some suppose. You 
 would rather like him, I think, if you knew him." 
 
 " It's absurd," Ward went on, " for Syd and Jennie 
 to consider the Collins family mortal enemies just 
 because their step-father owes my father money. But 
 here I am running on about my affairs like a con- 
 founded goose. Let's talk of something else." 
 
 " No, go on," coaxed Lele. " I want to get a cor- 
 rect estimate, if I can, of Syd's and Jennie's characters. 
 I confess they puzzle me." 
 
 " I was just going to add: I know there are people 
 in the world who have been less lucky than I have, and 
 can't, in consequence, enjoy themselves as well. And 
 from such I take a good deal, though the treatment 
 I get from Syd and Jen fairly paralyzes me sometimes. 
 But here we are. Will you hold the lines while I open 
 the gate?" 
 
 Ward's fingers touched the small white hands that 
 grasped the lines, and a conscious look dawned in each 
 pair of eyes. He hitched the matched blacks to the 
 rack with nervous haste, and blushed with pleasure as 
 he assisted Lele to alight. He wished that he might 
 have been longer about it. For the twentieth time 
 Ward had fallen dead in love at first sight. 
 
 " I'm afraid I've made the drive awfully dull for 
 you," he said, as he opened the little gate. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, indeed ! " said Lele, with burning 
 cheeks. 
 
 " It was so short," sighed Ward. " We might have
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 13! 
 
 gone ever so much further." ("And I might have 
 talked of something better worth while than the crank- 
 inesses of these confounded Fairfaxes," he added, men- 
 tally.) 
 
 " I enjoyed it very much," said Lele. 
 
 " I wonder," thought Ward, " how I could have 
 enjoyed the Fair so much last year without this delight- 
 ful girl. How lucky I am to have met her ! " 
 
 He felt as though stepping on air as he went with 
 Lele along the flower-bordered gravel walk, up the 
 veranda steps, and into the stuffy and gloomy parlor, 
 which their presence seemed to brighten and renovate 
 strangely. 
 
 No one would have supposed, from the solitary 
 appearance of the old farm house, that the hall had, 
 when they first came in sight, been full of young 
 people, some reading, others talking. A signal from 
 Tude had startled the whole group. 
 
 "Yes, sir!" she excitedly exclaimed, peering down 
 the road through the honeysuckle vines, " she's a-com- 
 ing, and she's got a new beau, too. Ward Collins is 
 a-bringing her in his new buggy, all a-glittering in the 
 sun enough to dazzle your eyes. Can't I run down 
 the lane and open the gate for them and tell them about 
 the pig?" 
 
 " No, you can't" said Jennie. " Clear out of here, 
 all of you. Who wants Ward Collins to come in and 
 catch you in your bare feet and dirty clothes ? " 
 
 " Clear the track !" shouted Clem, making a hideous
 
 132 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 racket in escaping through the back porch into the 
 dining room. 
 
 " Must we all hustle ? " asked Charlie, who lay 
 comfortably on the floor reading the new book which 
 Lele had given him. " I'd rather stay back of the door 
 and trip him up scientifically as he comes in." 
 
 "Charlie Fairfax! Get up, quick," said Jennie, 
 positively. 
 
 " Now, Caudle, listen to reason," went on the pro- 
 voking boy. " If I trip him up and he falls and sprains 
 his ankle " 
 
 Jean cut short his remarks with one of her lightning 
 glances, and taking Tude silently by the arm, jerked 
 her (still pleading to be allowed to stay and tell about 
 the pig) across the porch and into the dining room, 
 followed slowly by Charlie and Cora. The whole 
 party continued in full retreat until they reached the 
 kitchen, where Syd, having spent most of the day in 
 wandering over the farm, deep in thought over his 
 seemingly hopeless future, now sat reading. 
 
 " Dear me ! What is the matter ?" he asked, laying 
 down his paper. " Have you seen a rattlesnake in 
 the honeysuckles ? " 
 
 " Worse ! Lele's got a beau," answered Charlie. 
 
 Syd experienced pangs of guilty disappointment. 
 All his airy castles of the morning and of last night's 
 vigils sank into shadowy ruin. 
 
 " I didn't know she had any acquaintances here
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 133 
 
 except ourselves," he contrived to say. " Wasn't Tude 
 with her?" 
 
 " Yes, but she had to bring back one of the pigs 
 that had got out saved her bacon, you might say," 
 Charlie answered ; " so Lele was left. Did you ever 
 know a member of this family to go anywhere that we 
 didn't have to stop to fix a fence, or bring back a hog, 
 or drive somebody's cows out of the corn ? " 
 
 " It is Ward Collins who has brought her home, 
 Syd," explained Cora, making a little face. 
 
 Syd felt much as he would have done had she 
 announced the failure of a bank in which all the money 
 he possessed was deposited. 
 
 "And he's driving Venus," added Clem. " She 
 shines like black satin, and keeps looking around as 
 if she knew she had come home and wanted to stay. 
 Jen, can't I go out and give her a lump of sugar? " 
 
 " No," said Jen, harshly, but her lashes were heavy 
 with tears. 
 
 " No use, Clem ; she's not our horse now," said 
 Cora, sighing. " It seems like a dream that Venus 
 should belong to Ward Collins." 
 
 Jennie stood doggedly with her back to the window 
 that she might not see her former pet, for Venus had 
 loved Jen and followed her about through the yard 
 like a dog. The creature seemed to possess almost 
 human intelligence, and would pick grass daintily all 
 around the flower-beds, never trampling a flower or
 
 134 THE MAN WITH THE HOE- 
 
 vine ; and the children had taught her almost as many 
 tricks as a show horse. 
 
 " She knows she's come home, bless her dear old 
 bones," said Charlie, with a little break in his boyish 
 voice. 
 
 "If we had only known what we were raising her 
 for " began Cora in her most plaintive accents. 
 
 Syd couldn't endure any more. " Cora, stop," he 
 said, impatiently. " What's the use of all this ? She's 
 only a horse, and we've lost her." 
 
 " Yes, and we'll never have another as good. 
 That's flat," mourned Cora. 
 
 " Well, for pity's sake talk of something else. I'm 
 sick of this." 
 
 There was a long pause. 
 
 " Jean, you'll have to go in and entertain Lele and 
 Ward," said Cora, trying to put Venus out of her mind. 
 
 " I don't intend to," said Jennie. 
 
 Syd turned around and gave her a swift, angry 
 glance. 
 
 " Don't act so, Jen, for heaven's sake. You ought 
 to go in." 
 
 " I've nothing fit to wear,' said the girl, almost 
 piteously. 
 
 " Wear your lawn dress, Jinsey," said Cora, kindly. 
 " I'm sure it looks as nice as Lele's gingham. And 
 you can wear my breastpin." 
 
 " That old short-waisted thing! " exclaimed Jennie,
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 135 
 
 disdaining 1 to notice Charlie's interpolation of " Who 
 ever heard of a short-waisted breastpin ! " 
 
 " Why don't you fix it over, then, so you can wear 
 it ? " asked Syd, irritably. 
 
 " I've nothing like the goods to fix it with." 
 
 " Couldn't you take a piece out of the skirt and 
 make puffs for the sleeves ? " asked Clem. 
 
 " Hardly, when it is so skimpy now that I am 
 ashamed to walk across the floor with it." 
 
 " The skirt ain't so bad," suggested Charlie, crit- 
 ically ; " it's the sleeves that make you look like Noah's 
 wife coming out of the ark. You ought to see Maud 
 St. John's new sleeves regular stunners. Tell you, 
 Maud has the style ! " 
 
 " Oh, consarn it all ! " exclaimed Jennie, walking 
 furiously across the floor. " I don't believe there ever 
 was such a family as we are." 
 
 "A very just remark, Mrs. Bedott, very just," said 
 Charlie, sniffling. 
 
 " I feel sometimes that I could begin an' kick till 
 the earth went to atoms," said Jennie. " If I could 
 give it one hard kick for every time I've been mortified 
 and humiliated there'd be a slight earthquake anyhow ; 
 and I wouldn't care if it was strong enough to cause 
 every house on Bethany Ridge to tumble down." 
 
 " Except ours," suggested Syd. 
 
 " I wouldn't miss ours if it would bury me in the 
 ruins."
 
 136 THE MAN WITH THE! HOE. 
 
 " Jin, you're so wicked. I'd think you'd dread 
 seein' a cloud come up for fear the lightning would 
 strike you," said Cora, looking at her sister reproach- 
 fully over a piece of pie she was eating. Times were 
 serious indeed when Cora could not draw comfort from 
 a section of one of Jen's flakey-crusted pies. 
 
 " Well, if I'm to be struck by lightning for being 
 poor and miserable, I can't help it," said Jennie. 
 
 " You're as unreasonable as a Populist," Syd 
 declared. " Talk more like a rational being." 
 
 " You'll get punished for your talk ! " warned Tude. 
 
 " Oh, of course. Something always happens. Very 
 likely a hailstorm will come up to-morrow and cut the 
 flowers to pieces when I've nearly killed myself giving 
 them a start, or wipe out the garden just as the peas 
 are getting big enough to eat." 
 
 " If a hailstorm followed every complaint," com- 
 mented Charlie, " we should have a return of the glacial 
 period in short order." 
 
 " Other people," Jennie went on, " can work on 
 Sunday or what not and yet prosper. Look at old 
 Si Col"- 
 
 " Hush, Jen, they'll hear you." 
 
 " I don't care. Ward knows what an old skinflint 
 he is, and how he has his men set tobacco on Sunday, 
 and goes around coaxing other people's hands away in 
 harvest. Ward's mean, too, or he'd never have brought 
 Venus here. He came home with Lele on purpose to
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 137 
 
 taunt us with the sight of her. He knows as well as 
 anybody how it hurt us to part with her. Such a gentle 
 little thing as she was, and we girls could drive her 
 anywhere. While now we haven't any way to go only 
 to walk " 
 
 " Now, Jenkins, I wonder if we haven't all heard 
 that often enough ! Hush up, and go in and speak to- 
 Ward, for manners' sake anyhow. If you had more 
 diplomacy, you'd get on twice as well with people." 
 
 " Well, if you'd farm better I could afford better 
 clothes, and wouldn't have to cover up my rags with 
 diplomacy," flashed Jen. 
 
 The taunt went through the sensitive brain of her 
 brother like a thunderbolt. Was this the way, after 
 .ill, that he was providing for his mother's children? 
 He had never before realized what an important thing 
 nice dresses may be to a girl. And how was he doing 
 his duty in this line by poor Jen? Badly enough, he 
 knew. But to save his life he could not, under present 
 circumstances, do better. Mortified and hurt, Syd 
 resolved to cut short the conversation as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 He left the room in silence, followed in hot haste 
 by his repentant sister, who called to him to stop, that 
 she might apologize for the taunt she should have been 
 too wise to utter. But he never heeded her. Perhaps 
 he didn't hear. 
 
 A lump rose in Jennie's throat. Half suffocated
 
 138 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 with contending emotions, she rushed out into the 
 garden, and, flinging herself down on a bench under 
 one of the dwarf pear trees, burst into tears. 
 
 "Whatever does possess me to act so?" she won- 
 dered, as she lay there with her apron over her head, 
 sobbing her passionate heart out. " What am I good 
 for, anyhow? Nothing, as Charlie says, but to scold 
 and bake pies. What a ^hideous thing life is !" 
 
 She sat and looked around, wondering if she could 
 ever forget that day of humiliation. Not many in her 
 experience had been more poignantly void of satisfac- 
 tion. It was such a fine summer day, too ; so still, with 
 the .hot sunshine steeping the green and blossoming 
 world in glory, and she could see no beauty in it. 
 Every bird that sang mocked her, and every flower 
 that blossomed seemed- to turn its little face away from 
 her in scorn. 
 
 Even the way she had treated Lele, which had not 
 hurt her much at first, began to add to her sense of 
 defeat and self-reproach. What matter that the bees 
 were flying home from the old linden tree in the hollow 
 laden with the sweetest honey of the year ; that the air 
 \vas heavy with the perfume of clover, that humming- 
 birds were thick among the honeysuckles, and the holy 
 Sabbath peace was over all? Jean's heart was ready 
 to burst. 
 
 The chief cause of the present outburst was not her 
 recent tiff with Syd, though that had precipitated the 
 storm of tears. It was not the mortgage, which \vas a
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 139 
 
 tear-producer at short notice any time ; not the sight 
 of Venus, with all the bitter memories roused thereby ; 
 nor the fear of poverty ; nor all combined, that had 
 rendered that particular Sunday afternoon a miserable 
 one for the entire family. 
 
 There had been a time when Trixie Collins was 
 Jen's most intimate friend and Ward her boy lover. 
 This explains " a whole lot," as Charlie would have 
 put it. It was not enough that Lele must have the good 
 gifts all her life, music and fine clothes, an education 
 and what not, which to Jean had been denied. She 
 must needs come home, and, at a moment's notice, cap- 
 tivate the one man in all the world that Jennie would 
 have cared to win ! This was the crowning offense in 
 the category of Lele's unpremeditated wrong-doings, 
 and made the jealous girl feel for her rival a deeper 
 hatred. 
 
 No wonder that " scraping pots and kettles in 
 somebody else's kitchen at two dollars a week," instead 
 of presiding over a happy home of her own, was one 
 of the visions which imagination conjured up to tor- 
 ture the mind of the unhappy girl. Jennie cried hys- 
 terically at the prospect of such a future, against which 
 she rebelled with all the force of her passionate nature. 
 
 " I will not end my days in poverty and degrada- 
 tion," she cried, striking her clenched hand against the 
 rough bark of the old pear tree. " I was no more cre- 
 ated for such a fate than was Maud St. John or Trix 
 Collins. And as for staying here to see Lele Fairfax
 
 140 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 marry Ward I'll run away and drown myself, or 
 join a band of strolling players ! How much more of 
 this can I stand, anyhow?" 
 
 Ward's call had been a brief one, and Lele was by 
 this time in her room, watching him from behind the 
 curtains as he drove away with his prancing steeds, and 
 his new buggy all a-glitter in the sunlight. 
 
 Ah, well! Lele was young, too, and fancy free. 
 He was a Collins, but for all that the most thoroughly 
 companionable young fellow she had ever met. 
 
 She spent the next hour by the open window, weav- 
 ing fantastic day-dreams as she sat dreamily leaning 
 against the casement, with her face upturned to the 
 deep blue summer sky. 
 
 To Lele the world was beautiful, for life and love 
 lay before her. She had never had a lover. No won- 
 der that Ward Collins's blue eyes fascinated her. They 
 were the handsomest eyes she had ever seen, and the 
 most winning in expression. Besides there was some- 
 thing infectious in his fun and good humor. It did 
 you good just to hear him laugh. And what a sweet 
 tempered, forgiving young fellow he must be to ask for 
 Jennie and Syd after the way they had slighted him of 
 late! How mortifying to have to tell him that she 
 could not find any of them except her father, who was, 
 as usual on Sunday afternoons, asleep on the lounge. 
 The boys had fled to the barn after Syd and Jennie left, 
 and Cora and Tude to the orchard.
 
 VENUS AND DIANA. 14! 
 
 
 
 Lele, thus left alone, felt very solitary in the silent 
 old house, with the quiet evening hours coming on and 
 the tree toads beginning to chirp under the shadowy 
 trees. But her thoughts were pleasant ones. Life was 
 sweet. Lele felt so glad she was living in a world that 
 held so much that was worth living for. No thought 
 of fighting the battle of life single-handed was in her 
 mind. No vision of " pots, kettles and obscure single 
 blessedness " marred the picture.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 SYD AND LELE. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax had promised to accompany Lele that 
 evening to the little family burying ground to see her 
 mother's grave. And toward sunset they set out, but 
 before they were fairly out of the yard one of the ten- 
 ants appeared at the side gate in search of the man of 
 the house. 
 
 " It is Grimes with some vexatious worry on hands, 
 as usual," Mr. Fairfax said, testily. " Do you walk on 
 and I'll see what's wanting, and follow you directly." 
 
 Lele went forward lingerly toward the inclosure 
 on the hill west of the house, listening all the way for 
 his approaching footsteps; but slowly as she walked, 
 he never overtook her, and when she reached the inclo- 
 sure at the top of the hill she was still alone. 
 
 Leaning on the little rustic gate, she gazed a while 
 at the graves. There were a few monuments of white 
 marble, some low, discolored tombstones and a few 
 dismal gray slabs, one of the latter, half hidden by a 
 clump of cedars near the gate, was " Sacred to the 
 memory of Ebenezer Fairfax " some unknown uncle 
 who had died of consumption in the South, and had 
 been brought home for burial. He was only twenty- 
 one. 
 
 (142)
 
 SYD AND LEI.E:. 143 
 
 A spirit of peace seemed to brood over the spot. 
 Not a sound broke the stillness except the cooing of 
 a dove in the evergreens no other sign of life 
 appeared. 
 
 The long, white road at the foot of the meadow 
 was deserted ; the very sheep-bells tinkled afar off 
 with rhythm like that of a running brook ; net even 
 a smoke-wreath curled upward from any of the numer- 
 ous farm-houses that nestled beside the substantial 
 bank barns in the vicinity. Bethany Ridge tabooed 
 hot suppers on Sundays. 
 
 While the girl gazed dreamily over the sun-bathed 
 landscape, some one came up the steep path toward 
 her; but it was not Mr. Fairfax in his Sunday broad- 
 cloth and fine linen. It was only Syd, in a black sat- 
 teen shirt, common-looking trousers and rusty cap, 
 looking spiritless, jaded and out of sorts. 
 
 " He might have worn a coat," thought Lele, with 
 the unreasonableness of her sex. Lele felt sorry to 
 meet him ; after her chat with jolly Ward his presence 
 was distasteful, particularly as Ed's words came back 
 vividly to mind. 
 
 " Your father says you will please excuse him from 
 coming out," Syd said, in a mechanical fashion totally 
 different from his manner the evening of her arrival. 
 "A friend of his came just as Grimes left; so you 
 needn't wait." 
 
 Lele could not but feel rather suspicious of Syd's 
 motives in coming. And her tone sounded a trifle cool 
 when she said:
 
 144 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I'm sorry he couldn't come." 
 
 Far away on the Susquehanna they could hear the 
 long, melodious whistle of a steamboat. 
 
 " Perhaps you won't care to stay without him ? " 
 said Syd, as the echoes died away among the hills. 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind," roused to pity by his despond- 
 ency, which somehow sharpened his features and cast 
 shadows under his eyes. " We do not seem to get 
 so well acquainted as a brother and sister should, do 
 we?" 
 
 " No, I'm afraid not, so far," opening the gate 
 for her to pass through. " But don't mind if I seem 
 dull and uncompanionable ; it's my way." 
 
 " Since when, I wonder ? " thought Lele, relenting 
 toward him. 
 
 They walked on in silence until they reached the 
 two mounds where the mother of each lay buried. Syd 
 turned his head aside, for the tears blinded him. It 
 was only two years since the sod had closed over the 
 grave at his feet, and yet an eternity of grief and long- 
 ing seemed to lie between then and now. There was 
 a long silence, then a small, soft hand rested on his 
 arm sympathetically, and a gentle voice said: 
 
 " We are both motherless, Syd. But you have 
 brothers and sisters, while I don't feel as though 
 I had anybody." 
 
 The wistful tone struck a pang through the young 
 fellow's soul. He involuntarily moved by some 
 swift impulse of sympathy took the hand that rested 
 on his arm and raised it to his lips. Lele totally mis-
 
 SYD AND LELE. 145 
 
 understood him and looked up in blank dismay, startled 
 and confused. Was the young fortune hunter trying 
 to make love to her? She felt even more hurt than 
 angry to see her step-brother in a role so contemptible. 
 
 Syd knew her thoughts instinctively, and his face 
 crimsoned with shame. There was an embarrassed 
 pause, during which she moved away a few steps with 
 a downcast air ; but he could see on her face a pained, 
 chagrined look, as though she knew he entertained 
 sentiments toward her that rendered his presence dis- 
 tasteful. He began explaining in a choked, stammer- 
 ing way, hardly able to utter three words consecutively 
 without pausing: 
 
 " Lele, I don't think I don't mean You can 
 think whatever else you please about me, but don't 
 for heaven's sake, believe that. I don't want your 
 money. I know Ed told you I did. But if 
 you think me so so degraded, so unprinci- 
 pled, I'd " He broke down. All he could add was, 
 " I can't bear to have you look at me that way 
 again." 
 
 He thought he had made an awful mess of it, and 
 that Lele would feel justified in shunning him after this. 
 Maud would, he knew. He heartily wished Lele was 
 like her. It would be balm to his wounded pride to 
 know that all women were heartless. 
 
 Instead, however, of turning from him coldly, as 
 he deserved, perhaps, she seemed all at once to com- 
 prehend the situation, and after scrutinizing his hag- 
 gard countenance a moment, she slipped . her hand 
 do)
 
 146 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 through his arm again, and said in a tone that made 
 him compare her to the sweetest angel in heaven : 
 
 " Syd, I understand and quite forgive you. Let us 
 be real friends, real brother and sister. I know you 
 are too noble to deceive me in any way, and I am 
 not afraid to trust you. Oh, Syd, I need your friend- 
 ship so much ! " 
 
 " You shall have it, Lele," replied Syd, humbly. 
 In his deep humility he would willingly have resigned 
 her hand and fortune to any man worthy of her. He 
 felt that he could never be that. But he would be to 
 her always a true and loyal elder brother. 
 
 They slowly retraced their steps to the gate, talking 
 as they went about the graves of by-gone relatives, 
 their tones unconsciously low. Gradually the conver- 
 sation drifted to family affairs, and Lele made some 
 inquiries about the mortgage. 
 
 " It is to be foreclosed, I fear ! " said Syd, briefly. 
 
 "Must the farm be sold, then?" 
 
 " I think so. I have done my utmost to save it, 
 but I can't, I guess ; in fact, I know I can't. The 
 interest on the mortgage takes the bread out of our 
 mouths and keeps us in shabby clothes the year around 
 all except your father ; his salary dresses him. It 
 ought to ! " he added, bitterly ; " we never see a penny 
 of it." 
 
 ' I wish there was something I could do," Lelc 
 replied, sadly. " But my aunt you know the pro- 
 visions of her will." 
 
 " Yes," Syd knew very well. Five hundred dol-
 
 SYD AND LELE. 147 
 
 lars a year to render her niece independent until her 
 marriage to be expended only with the consent of 
 her guardian. Lele might as well have been penniless 
 so far as any freedom to help her father's family was 
 concerned. 
 
 " I'm sorry I can't help you all," Lele reiterated. 
 
 " No matter. We shall feel more independent 
 when everything is settled up, and we know for a 
 certainty what we have." 
 
 He held his head erect and felt and looked more 
 like himself. The burning blush of shame had passed 
 away, and he could look his step-sister frankly in the 
 eye again. The future, with all its poverty and priva- 
 tions, actually looked less appalling than life with Lele's 
 money on his conscience. He was glad that indepen- 
 dence so basely purchased was out of the question. 
 
 To make his renunciation complete, he resolved, 
 before returning to the house, to test her opinion of 
 Ward. That it was a very favorable one he did not 
 doubt. They were both leaning over the low gate to 
 the inclosure, with quite a brother and sister air. Syd 
 plunged at once into the new subject: How did she 
 like young Collins? 
 
 The question was unexpected, and the sensitive 
 color flew to Lele's cheeks. She was not enough of a 
 " society " girl to have lost the art of blushing. 
 
 " Oh, I see how it is. You like him. Girls always 
 do." Syd looked away over the southern hills with a 
 forlorn sinking of the heart that was by no means new. 
 He had been jealous of Ward often enough, but was
 
 148 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 this jealousy? He scouted the idea. Why shouldn't 
 Lele marry the fellow if she chanced to care for him 
 and he for her? 
 
 He knew by instinct that Lele would ask him what 
 sort of a fellow Ward was ; and she did. 
 
 " Why didn't you come in and see your old friend 
 this evening ? " she asked. " Isn't he nice ? Don't you 
 like him any more ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he is nice, but I don't like him." 
 
 " Don't you think it may be your fault a little ? " 
 
 " Probably." 
 
 " Wouldn't it be better to make up with him ? " 
 
 " You don't quite understand what you are asking, 
 Lele. No; it wouldn't be better to make it up." 
 
 " Syd, be a good, kind-hearted brother and tell me 
 why you are not friends any more. He told me about 
 Venus, but said there were other things you quarreled 
 about." 
 
 " Lele, do you really want me to tell you ? " 
 
 " If it would be right for me to ask. I think you 
 must have liked him very much when you were friends. 
 He told me how intimate you two were, and how he 
 still liked you. I wonder you do not try to keep 
 friendly with him on account of the mortgage, at 
 least." 
 
 "I confess I have no diplomacy. Under some 
 circumstances diplomacy is a contemptible trait, Lele." 
 
 " But you were friends." 
 
 " Ward and I were the dearest of friends until the 
 last year or two. I believe I knew every thought in
 
 SYD AND I.ELE. 149 
 
 his mind until he was nearly nineteen. He never did 
 anything without first consulting me. A peculiarity 
 of his nature is that he must have somebody stronger 
 than he to lean on. And I like to be looked up to 
 by ' weaker vessels.' I pass for a crusty old fellow 
 now, and I am pretty crabbed I guess ; but I used to 
 be different. Lele, you may smile incredulously, but 
 it's a fact I actually thought at one time that I 
 couldn't live without somebody or something to love." 
 (That time would never be past for Syd.) " But when 
 I lost confidence in some people everything seemed 
 to go crossgrained with me. I became discouraged, 
 impatient and irritable. Everything seemed to con- 
 spire against me. When I had Ward for a confidant, 
 though I didn't tell him just everything as he did me, 
 it was at least soothing to be with him, for he is nor- 
 mally an awfully sympathetic soul, and hasn't a par- 
 ticle of temper. Ward and my mother together kept 
 the snarls smoothed pretty well out of my temper ; but 
 I lost her," (he looked wistfully toward the evening 
 star with some lines of Whittier's in his mind, which 
 were in Lele's mind, too,) " and that nearly killed me. 
 After a time Ward and I fell out, and I felt somehow 
 as though I had lost myself." 
 
 " But Jennie would have helped you, Syd, if you 
 had let her." 
 
 " No ; Jen means well, but as a confidante she's no 
 good. Besides, her soul was in darkness, too: there 
 were some things we sacredly refrained from mention- 
 ing to each other."
 
 150 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Poor boy! " sighed Lele. " If I could only have 
 been with you then ! You would have been willing 
 to make a confidante of me, wouldn't you, Syd?" 
 
 Syd felt the impulse to kiss her for that tone of lov- 
 ing sympathy. 
 
 " Heavens ! if she could only have been with me 
 then ! " he thought. " Such a sister as Lele would 
 let a few rays of sunshine into one's blackest days. 
 God bless her." But he only said quite calmly aloud: 
 
 " Yes ; I think so." 
 
 "Tell me why you quarreled with your friend." 
 
 " Oh, well we both liked the same girl, and she 
 finally liked him better than she did me. If I'd known 
 it before I grew to care for her so much I think I 
 could have forgiven Ward. She held me captive just 
 until she felt sure of securing Ward, and then threw 
 me over. I blamed him for deceiving me in the matter, 
 too, though he was excusable, perhaps, on the theory 
 that ' all things are fair in love and war.' When lie 
 tried to talk it over with me afterwards I wouldn't let 
 him. There was nothing to be said, either to him 
 or her." 
 
 "And they are to marry soon, I suppose?" said 
 Lele, a trifle unsteadily. 
 
 " I don't think so. She never suited Ward, and 
 I think he has grown tired of her. You would fine 1 
 it no trouble to cut her out." 
 
 " I don't intend to try," said Lele. 
 
 " Ward's eyes have failed to do execution, then, 
 for the first time."
 
 SYD AND UJLE. 15! 
 
 " Syd, at the risk of being thought a fool, I must say 
 that I should fight very hard against falling in love 
 with any farmer. I don't really believe the life of a 
 farmer's wife would suit me." 
 
 " That was what Maud thought," replied Syd, bit- 
 terly. " I don't know that I ought to blame any 
 woman for having a prejudice against farm life, since 
 you share it." 
 
 " Never mind," said Lele, beginning to laugh. " I 
 suppose if I ever fall in love, which isn't at all likely, 
 I won't stop long, after all, to consider my future hus- 
 band's occupation. Only I find farm life, both for 
 men and women, so different from what I supposed, 
 that I wonder you have the courage to go on with it." 
 
 " I did rebel against it once ; it seemed such a plod- 
 ding, brain-destroying industry ; but I'm in for it now, 
 and expect to stick to it. After all, it doesn't matter 
 much where a fellow lives or what he does, so it's 
 honest." 
 
 "And suitable," said Lele. " I don't think one's 
 work can ever be thoroughly enjoyable if it goes against 
 the grain of one's nature." 
 
 " Well, you needn't fret about your work, at any 
 rate," said Syd. " I'm thankful you are provided for." 
 
 " Since I've been here I've been thinking seriously 
 of going into some kind of business," said Lele. " I 
 suppose teaching would suit me best." 
 
 " That's because I've made you think ill of Ward." 
 said Syd, anxiously. " Don't misunderstand me, Lele. 
 I've tried to be truthful about him. He's all right.
 
 152 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 He couldn't help Maud preferring him, I suppose. He 
 had everything and I nothing. What is there about 
 me to attract any girl ? Shabby clothes without a cent 
 in the pockets, a careworn, unsmiling face, and a 
 future obscured by poverty, are no recommendations 
 to any man, especially when there is another around 
 who is all grace and high spirits and elegance." 
 
 He let his head drop on his arm with a feeling of 
 utter wretchedness. Both leaned over the gate in 
 silence. It occurred to him that she might think he 
 was posing for sympathy. He didn't care, this time, 
 what she thought. Nothing mattered. 
 
 The satin-soft fingers rested on his arm again, and 
 there was comfort in her very tones : 
 
 " Syd, / don't think you're shabby or tongue-tied, 
 or or anything but awfully nice. If Ed were half 
 the man you are, I'd be so proud of him that I shouldn't 
 know what to do. Maud can't be really worth winning 
 or she never would have jilted you for Ward Collins." 
 
 Syd took from his pocket two card photos and held 
 them before her eyes \Vard's and his own. 
 
 " Look on this picture and then on that," he said 
 scornfully. " You can see at a glance which a girl 
 would be likely to choose." 
 
 " His picture is certainly handsome," said Lele ; 
 " and yours doesn't do you justice at all. Nearly all 
 the beauty you have lies in that of expression. It is 
 when you smile and your eyes light up that you look 
 your best. If you had kept a smiling face, you never 
 would have been jilted. Let me have the pictures, 
 Syd."
 
 SYD AND LELE. 153 
 
 " No ; I keep them as a panacea for vanity. When 
 I imagine anybody liking me better than Ward, I take 
 out these old photos, and one glance satisfies me. I've 
 looked at them a thousand times, I suppose." 
 
 "The cure doesn't appear to be permanent," said 
 Lele, mischievously. " Give them to me and I'll war- 
 rant you'll have a better opinion of yourself." 
 
 Syd put the photos in his pocket and opened the 
 gate for her to pass. 
 
 " It's getting too damp for you up here," he said. 
 " See how wet the grass is." 
 
 " I want those pictures first." 
 
 " You can't have them, Lele." 
 
 " I won't stir one inch till I get them," said Lele, 
 displaying astonishing obstinacy. 
 
 " Lele ! how can you ask such a thing ? " He was 
 half laughing, half angry. 
 
 " Syd ! how can you refuse me the only favor I've 
 asked of you since I've been here ? " aggrieved. " I 
 don't mind going to bed hungry, or any such minor 
 inconvenience ; but if you refuse me those pictures I'll 
 never forgive you." 
 
 He looked at her indecisively a moment, then said : 
 " You can't have them." 
 
 "All right, sir. I know what you mean when you 
 talk about kindness, and apologize for other people. I 
 do indeed ! " 
 
 Syd stopped her as she was passing him and said 
 with a smile: 
 
 " Well, here they are. What use can you possibly 
 make of them ? "
 
 154 THE MAN WITH THE) HOE). 
 
 " Keep you from looking at them," said Lele, slip- 
 ping her hand through his arm. " I prophesy your 
 self-esteem will develop from this time forth. And 
 now, Syd, be a good boy. When you can be so thor- 
 oughly companionable you ought to exert yourself a 
 little to amuse me while I'm here." 
 
 " You will be in no lack of amusement after this. 
 Ward will keep you so well entertained that you will 
 soon cease to care how I look." 
 
 " I don't care if he never comes here," said Lele. 
 "He's nothing to me, Syd just nothing." 
 
 Syd's heart leaped. He would have been more 
 than human, perhaps, to resist the temptation to clasp 
 in his the little hand that lay on his arm. 
 
 " I don't want him to come here and make my visit 
 doubly disagreeable to the rest of you," she went on. 
 
 " Doubly disagreeable ? " echoed Syd. 
 
 ' You're not going to act so so " 
 
 " Unbrotherlike." 
 
 "That's just it. We're to be confidants, aren't 
 we?" 
 
 " You can trust me with anything. I don't tell 
 much about myself, Lele ; never did. This evening 
 was an exception." 
 
 They were at the gate, now, that led to the lawn 
 and it had grown suddenly dark ; there were thousands 
 of fireflies in the shrubbery, and the stars were kin- 
 dling. The lamps were not yet lighted in the house. 
 
 " I don't feel quite so homesick to-night," she said,
 
 SYD AND LELE. 155 
 
 naively. " I'm getting accustomed to farm life, and 
 it doesn't seem so lonely." 
 
 "Poor child! You've been having such a dreary 
 'time of it so far." 
 
 " It was only for a day or two, and I'm sure tc 
 have a good time once you all get to know me." 
 
 " I'm afraid we're such a dreary set, Lele " 
 
 " Now, don't. I'll not find any happiness in culti- 
 vating Bethany Ridge, but I do so long to have my 
 brothers and sisters love me." 
 
 " I don't think you'll have a great while to wait," 
 said Syd, smiling. " Ycur victories in that line are 
 very sure." 
 
 " Thank you, Syd. Ft does me good to hear you 
 say it. And on your side confess that you feel hap- 
 pier than you did an hour or two ago." 
 
 " I don't know but I do," Syd admitted. " I felt 
 in need of cheering up when I came out, I do assure 
 you. I was just like an old silk hat that somebody 
 had stepped on and crushed all out of shape, and 
 brushed the wrong way. But you've made me feel 
 like folks." 
 
 " Good ! I want you to feel like folks ! " said Lele, 
 merrily. 
 
 '' Come into the dining-room and have lunch," said 
 Syd, as they ascended the veranda steps. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Lunch was over, and Lele was in the sitting-room 
 chatting with her father and the children. Syd
 
 156 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 remained outside a while smoking a cigar in the deep- 
 ening dusk, and then, as if drawn by magnetism, wan- 
 dered off across the fields in the direction of the St. 
 John farmhouse. The front part of the house seemed 
 deserted ; there was no light in the parlor, and Syd 
 knew Maud was away somewhere. When he got past 
 the house a little he looked back and saw a light stream- 
 ing from the open kitchen door. The family were 
 decorously seated at their Sabbath cold lunch. There 
 was no ringing laughter as when Maud was present. 
 Kitty's little phiz appeared at the board beside her 
 elderly parents. Morris was absent. He was prob- 
 ably now casting a shadow on Trixie Collins' parlor 
 blind. Syd walked on. Maud would perhaps return 
 shortly. If she did, he wanted to see her. 
 
 Presently he saw a one-horse buggy coming up the 
 hill just ahead of him. Even in the dusk he could 
 recognize Keith Hubbard's dappled gray, not so much 
 by its color as by its size and gait. He stood back 
 against the stone wall in the shadow of some pawpaw 
 bushes to let them pass, for the road here was steep 
 and narrow. The buggy-top was laid back and t\\o 
 people were in it Maud and Keith. He recognized 
 them by their voices, as they came up, though he could 
 not distinguish their words. And his heart sank. He 
 could not see Maud this evening, or any other evening, 
 probably. Keith Hubbard was an ever-welcome guest 
 there when Ward was in disfavor. 
 
 Syd's eyes were by this time so accustomed to the 
 gloom that he could discern near objects quite well,
 
 THZ ROAD BELOW ST. JOHN'S AT TWILIGHT
 
 SYD AND LEI.E. 157 
 
 though there was but a dim glow of starlight. Keith's 
 arm was around Maud, who held the lines in her little 
 gloved hands. Syd heard him say : 
 
 " Just one kiss, dearest." 
 
 " Now, Keith, you'll tell ! " 
 
 " Maud, I swear I won't." 
 
 " Well only one, mind ! " 
 
 Syd waited to hear no more. But in hurriedly 
 descending the bank he slipped and fell against the 
 buggy wheels, which nearly ran over him. It was a 
 moment or two before he could regain his feet. 
 
 " Oh, what is that dreadful creature? " cried Maud, 
 appealing to Keith, whose horse had taken fright. 
 Maud had dropped the lines and was about to faint 
 outright when the buggy ran up against the bank and 
 upset, throwing both out. . Syd, as the promoter of 
 the catastrophe, did what penance he could by catching 
 the frightened horse and righting the buggy. Keith 
 was slightly hurt ; Maud not at all. But nothing could 
 induce her to get into the buggy again. They were but 
 a short distance from home, she said. If Syd would 
 drive the horse, or lead it to her father's house, she 
 and Keith would walk. 
 
 " I think I had better drive him myself," said Keith. 
 " He knows my voice better." 
 
 " But, Keith, I'm afraid you'll get hurt," said 
 Maud. "Syd can manage him." 
 
 " No matter if I am hurt 1 " thought Syd, tingling 
 with indignation. 
 
 " You caused the accident, vou know, and ought
 
 158 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 to be willing to render some assistance," she added 
 to Syd, with a voice of ruffled sweetness. 
 
 " The accident was caused mainly by Keith not hav- 
 ing hold of the lines," replied Syd, shortly. 
 
 " You are very much mistaken, Mr. McKnight," 
 said Maud, in a tone of ice mingled with salt. " I 
 think it quite enough for you to cause our horse to 
 upset the buggy and endanger both our lives, without 
 making ungentlemanly insinuations." 
 
 " I beg your pardon for the insinuations, if I was 
 mistaken. I haven't done anything ungentlemanly that 
 I know of," Syd replied. " Still I am willing to drive 
 the horse home if Keith is afraid of him." 
 
 "Afraid of my own horse! " exclaimed Keith, ruf- 
 fled in his turn. He felt that his honor as a horseman 
 was touched. 
 
 " Let him manage the horse, Keith," whispered 
 Maud. " I want you to walk with me." 
 
 " Wouldn't you be willing to walk up the hill with 
 Syd?" 
 
 " I wouldn't do it for the world! " said Maud, peev- 
 ishly. 
 
 The next moment the fractious steed (with Syd 
 grimly hanging on to the lines) was tearing up the 
 hill as though pursued by furies. Things " looked 
 shaky " for the driver's safety, but Syd rather enjoyed 
 that part of the situation. A genuine Mazeppa flight 
 would have been preferable to being snubbed any 
 longer by his old sweetheart.
 
 SYD AND LEJtE. 159 
 
 Fortunately, the harness held firm, and after a 
 few minutes' run the gallant gray was all right. 
 
 Syd went on home after hitching him to the rack 
 at St. John's without waiting to see Maud and Keith 
 again. Every word of their whispered colloquy 
 indeed, every word that Maud had uttered had fallen 
 on his ears as bitter as gall-drops on the tongue. 
 
 Syd was thoroughly disenchanted at last ; but he 
 did not sleep any sooner or sounder that night for his 
 freedom from thrall.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 SOME MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS. 
 
 Monday morning dawned without a cloud. Lele 
 arose early, and when she went downstairs found Syd 
 seated on the top step of the veranda. He had done the 
 feeding, and was waiting for breakfast, which was 
 rather late. He greeted her with a smile that some- 
 how softened and brightened the lines of his face into 
 positive beauty. Lele began to realize that her step- 
 brother was, after all, a handsome fellow. 
 
 ""Why so early?" he asked, making room for her 
 at his side. " I thought city girls slept away all the 
 freshness of the morning, and spent the rest of the 
 day lolling in hammocks and easy-chairs." 
 
 " Not the up-to-date city girl," Lele replied, saucily. 
 " She has given up the hammock and easy chair for the 
 wheel, tennis and golf. Her days are as busy as once 
 they were idle. And now she is a healthy, happy girl." 
 
 Syd thought of Jennie's narrow, drudging life in 
 contrast, and was silent. Lele changed the subject. 
 
 " Syd, I feel that there is work for me to do here 
 for -Ed, I mean," and her face suddenly clouded. 
 " "What is to become of that poor boy ? " 
 
 "You mustn't worry about him, Lele; it won't help 
 matters any. He has always been inclined to go to the 
 bad. Some are, you know." 
 
 (160)
 
 SOME; MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS. 161 
 
 " Religion might make a useful man of him yet." 
 
 Syd repressed a smile. 
 
 " I never heard of religion putting elbow-grease 
 into a man's arm ; he's lazy, and, according to my creed, 
 that is worse than being an infidel." 
 
 " With congenial work he might prove industrious." 
 
 " Possibly. But I haven't much faith in religion 
 as a promoter of industry. I've seen too much of 
 Jake Grimes' go-to-meetin' shiftlcssness for that." 
 
 " Has the minister ever tried to reclaim him ? " 
 
 " Ed., like some of the rest of us, hasn't much faith 
 in the minister. His dullness is appalling, and he 
 doesn't understand boys." 
 
 " Well, have you " 
 
 " To be candid, Lele, I lost patience with Ed long 
 ago, and I do not now pretend to have any influence 
 over him." 
 
 " Is there anybody who has ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid not." 
 
 Lele meditated with her chin resting on her clasped 
 hands. 
 
 " Well," she said, finally, " I've thought a great 
 deal about him ever since I came, and it seems to me 
 the only thing we can do for him is to take him away 
 from home, give him his chosen work, and place him 
 where his mind and character will have every possible 
 chance to improve." 
 
 " It would be worth trying, but every experiment 
 costs money, and we have none." 
 
 " I have a plan, and if you will promise not to speak 
 ii
 
 l62 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 of it, as I don't care to have more than one confidant, 
 I will tell yon what it is." 
 
 Syd gave his promise, and Lele resumed : 
 
 " Instead of just living on my income, as my aunt 
 intended, I propose to apply for a school in my old 
 home St. Louis and thus be able, if I am suc- 
 cessful, to meet Ed's expenses while he is learning to 
 be a machinist. I know a lady who will board us, I 
 think. She is a friend of mine, and will be a great 
 help to me in influencing Ed. She understands boys 
 thoroughly, and has helped more than one toward a 
 nobler life. It will give Ed a chance, at least, to make 
 something of himself if there is anything in him." 
 
 " We would be better off without him, and it 
 would, perhaps, be the best thing that could be done 
 for him. But is it right for you to assume such respon- 
 sibility, or for us to permit it ? " 
 
 " I think it would be right yes," said Lele, firmly. 
 
 " To teach school is no easy life for a woman, and, 
 in addition, to have the care of such a fellow as Ed 
 would take most of the brightness out of your life 
 particularly, if, as is likely, you failed, after all. I 
 don't think you had better undertake it, Lele." v. 
 
 " My mind is made up now, and nothing can change 
 it. The teachers will be employed very shortly, and 
 I must send my letter of application to-day. I have 
 some influential friends in the Board, and my guardian 
 will help me if he sees that I am determined to teach. 
 Then all that will be necessary will be father's con- 
 sent to let Ed go. I have talked enough with my
 
 SOME MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS. 163 
 
 brother to know that it will be a welcome change for 
 him." 
 
 " It is very generous of you to form such a plan, 
 and I "- 
 
 A cow, lately separated from her calf, was bellow- 
 ing" so loudly in the lane that Lele had to ask him to 
 repeat the remainder of the sentence. The racket was 
 simply deafening. And in the trees overhead hundreds 
 of blackbirds added a chorus to the solo in the lane. 
 
 Syd ran to the fence and drove the cow away ; 
 then he beat two shingles together for several min- 
 utes and " cleared the aisles " in the tree-tops. Just as 
 he turned to resume his conversation with Lele a red- 
 faced Dutch* farmer appeared at the side gate with a 
 gusty-looking frown on his fat countenance. 
 
 " Hello, Heldt ! " said Syd. 
 
 " Hello, Sect," said Heldt, sulkily. 
 
 "What's to pay?" Syd asked. 
 
 " Blenty. In der name uff Himmel, vat you goin' 
 to do mit dem stheers uff yourn, Sect? Py gracious, 
 they been tearin' up shack mit my corn-field ag'in." 
 
 " They have? Confound it ! " 
 
 " Vat you goin' to do abotid id ? " Heldt persisted. 
 
 Syd's face took on an angry look that made Lele 
 wonder how she could ever have thought him a hand- 
 some fellow. He made an attempt to reply, but his 
 words were completely swallowed up in the obstreper- 
 
 * Pennsylvania Dutch came originally from Holland, not 
 Germany.
 
 164 THE MAN WITH THE) HOE. 
 
 ous gobbling of a huge turkey which was strutting on 
 the lawn. 
 
 " Vat you say ? " shouted the Dutchman. " I give 
 you ten tollars abiece for dem stheers an' say nuddings 
 aboud damages." 
 
 Syd gave the gobbler a start with his straw hat 
 that sent the noble bird wheeling around the corner 
 of the house. Then he said something to Heldt that 
 Lele could not hear. 
 
 " All ride, all ride ! " said Heldt, and left in a huff. 
 
 "What did you say that made him so angry?" 
 asked Lele. But the house dog and a ragged-looking 
 cur that belonged to Heldt had taken up their masters' 
 quarrel, and no conversation was possible for several 
 minutes. Syd wasted no words in settling this " sec- 
 ond-hand furse " ; the cur was seen to run yelping 
 down the lane a short time afterward on three legs, 
 and one of Jennie's dahlia sticks was missing. 
 
 " I'm afraid you are acting a little imprudently 
 in hurting his dog, Syd," Lele said, anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, I think myself that I let him off too easy. 
 I ought to have broken his consarned neck. I'm sat- 
 isfied he has killed five of our sheep within a week ; 
 and Heldt is so determined to make us sell the young 
 cattle for half price that I think he turns them into 
 the corn every night as a ruse to help pile up damages. 
 Sometimes I think I shall end by murdering the 
 Dutchman and his dog, too. Blast their hides ! " 
 
 Lele reverted to Ed's case in a roundabout way ;
 
 SOME; MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS. 165 
 
 but Syd's temper was ruffkd for the day, and she saw 
 that it was no time to urge Utopian schemes. 
 
 A third interruption put a stop to the conversation. 
 Clem appeared to announce that the hogs were in the 
 truck patch. Syd disappeared around the corner, 
 closely followed by Clem, the frisky house cat and 
 Clem's valiant yellow pup, while Lele, laughing at the 
 picture they made, went out to the kitchen to see if 
 she could render any assistance about breakfast, but 
 had tact enough to discover very soon that Jennie 
 regarded her room with more favor than her company, 
 and withdrew. At breakfast Jean sat throughout the 
 meal in sullen silence. 
 
 Ed was in his place again looking pretty well used 
 up. His father asked him sharply where he had been, 
 and he answered doggedly : 
 
 " Over at Redwood." 
 
 The other members of the family tacitly sanctioned 
 the deception, not seeming willing to rouse his father's 
 ire by stating that his graceless son had been " on a 
 tear." The consequence would probably have been 
 unpleasant. 
 
 After breakfast Lele made another effort to render 
 herself useful in an unobtrusive way. She asked Cora 
 if there was not some sewing she could do. -Cora, who 
 had long ago been nicknamed Do'no by Charlie, 
 because she never knew anything until she had first 
 appealed to Jen, sent Tude to the kitchen to inquire, 
 and presently came the report :
 
 l66 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 , " I told her what you said, Code, an' she said she 
 guessed the sky'd fall if you touched a needle an' 
 thread. You knowed that ever' blessed thing about the 
 house from the roof to your stockin' toes needed 
 patchin' an' yet you'd never lay scizzors to 'em if you 
 thought the rag-man would carry you off." 
 
 " I didn't send for the whole Congressional Jour- 
 nal," said Cora, using one of her father's pet phrases. 
 "Where's them check shirts of the boys say?" 
 
 " She said you knowed they'd been in the press ever 
 since we sold Blue Belle's calf and put the money intc 
 check an' breeches stuff for the boys, 'cause they was 
 that ragged they looked like buzzards. An' her not 
 bein' able fer six weeks to sew on 'em after she got 
 'em, on account o' the machine bein' all out o' whack." 
 
 " You find me the shirts, Cora, and I'll see if I 
 can't make the machine work," said Lele. 
 
 Cora found the shirts already cut out and Lele 
 made an attempt to " fix " the machine ; but finding that 
 she could do nothing with it, sewed by hand so dili- 
 gently than when Ed came in to dinner she was put- 
 ting the finishing stitches in a new shirt for him 
 evidently none too soon, for the one he wore was in 
 slits. 
 
 " Seamstress, eh ? " he said, in evident surprise, 
 when she displayed her work. 
 
 "And all hand-made, too ! " said Lele, trium- 
 phantly. " The machine won't work, Ed. Come and 
 see what ails it."
 
 SOME MONDAY MORNING PROBLEMS. 167 
 
 " Didn't know there was anything the matter," mut- 
 tered Ed. 
 
 " It's been out of whack for six blessed weeks," said 
 Cora, yawning and rocking. " Jen told you about it, 
 Ed, an' you got as mad as hops, an' said it might go to 
 I don't know where 'fore you'd touch it. An' Jen 
 said after that if it stood there till the last one of you 
 boys went to rags an' had to take to the woods she'd 
 never say ' beans ' to you about fixin' that machine 
 again. She'd denied herself a new lawn dress to buy 
 the check, too." 
 
 "If she hadn't been so d d smart I'd have fixed 
 it long ago," said Ed, examining the machine. " Ex- 
 cuse cussin', Lele," he added. 
 
 Lele sighed and said nothing. Ed would much 
 have preferred a lecture. 
 
 It happened that the machine was not so badly out 
 of order, after all. A" little knowledge of machinery 
 was all that was required to set it right, and by the 
 time dinner was announced every thing was in complete 
 running order again. Better still, Ed had donned his 
 new shirt and his face wore a more cheerful look than 
 she had yet seen on it. He was not such a bad-looking 
 fellow when in a good humor. Lele, for the first time, 
 discovered that his eyes were really good. 
 
 " You love machinery, don't you, Ed ? " she said 
 to him as she walked out to the gate with him after 
 dinner. 
 
 " Yes, Lele, I do. An' it's the only thing, by 
 jingo, that I ever did love. Much good it does."
 
 l68 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " The advantage of being a man is that you can 
 choose your work," said Lele, tentatively. 
 
 " Just about as much as this yaller dog of Clem's 
 can choose his home," said Ed, grimly. " We've each 
 got our places picked out for us, an' we've got to stay 
 in 'em whether or no. Darn mine, I say !" 
 
 " I don't think that's the way Lincoln regarded rail- 
 splitting," said Lele. " I think, though he was just 
 aching to do very different work, he resolved so long 
 as rail-splitting- was his occupation to make the very 
 best ones he could." 
 
 " Yes, but he was Abe Lincoln, all the same, an' 
 I'm only Ed Fairfax." 
 
 "As souls are rated, Ed Fairfax's place in the world 
 is just as important as the Czar of Russia's. No man 
 can carry the honors of r his world into the next." 
 
 " We don't know anything certain about the next," 
 said Ed. " But we know that this world is just a 
 walkover for some people, and an almighty tough 
 scramble for the rest of 113." 
 
 " Yes, I know, a good many have felt the same. 
 But remember, Ed, there's time enough to wait for all 
 good things except character. That won't wait. Oh, 
 Ed, don't you see that there is no grander resolve for 
 a boy to make than this : ' Let me first of all be a man, 
 and a good one ' ? " 
 
 " If the very devil was not in this old farm life for 
 me, I'd try harder/' said Ed, dejectedly; "but" he 
 sHook his head.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS. 
 
 "Out of clothes, out of countenance ; out of countenance, 
 cut of wit." BEN JONSON. 
 
 After thinking a great deal upon the subject of 
 Ed's future, Lele had decided upon what she deemed 
 the best course of action for him. In pursuance of 
 the plan mentioned to Syd that morning, she had writ- 
 ten two letters, which must be mailed before evening, 
 if ever: one to her guardian, fully explaining her rea- 
 sons for wishing to become a teacher, and asking him 
 to present her inclosed letter of application to the Board 
 of Education. The other she sent to her friend, Mrs. 
 Raymond, asking board for herself and Ed if she 
 secured the coveted position. She had planned an 
 after-dinner talk with her father, when even the most 
 unreasonable men are supposed to be in a mood for 
 granting favors. All she required was his consent to 
 allow Ed to leave home. She felt sure that she could 
 make him see the matter, finally, in the same light she 
 did. After that there would be time to mail the letters. 
 
 But Mr. Fairfax, on that particular day, did not 
 return to dinner. Monday, being washday, was not 
 infrequently the most unpleasant day in the week at 
 Fairfax farm ; and Omar Fairfax was not to be excelled 
 for skill in eluding the disagreeable. Lele had not 
 
 ( 169)
 
 I7O TH1-: MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 counted on this; still, since the time for action was so 
 limited, she dared not wait. Another day would prob- 
 ably be too late to get her application in before the 
 Board met. She took the first opportunity to send her 
 letters to the postoffice, which chanced to be Ward 
 Collins. He was issuing invitations to a party, and 
 was to take in the postoffice en route. 
 
 Jennie happened to be on the veranda with Lele 
 when he came, and, rather to the latter's surprise, she 
 met him cordially. Ward, when asking Lele for her 
 company to the party, out of politeness included Jennie 
 also. She hesitated to join them, well knowing that 
 her conduct of late had not been such as to render her 
 society agreeable to either of them. 
 
 Lele, remembering her promise to Syd on the pre- 
 vious evening, had intended to decline going, but saw 
 at once that it was a golden opportunity for winning 
 the wayward girl by giving her a longed-for pleasure. 
 
 " Jennie," she said, impulsively, " let me accept for 
 both. Mr. Collins, we accept with pleasure." 
 
 So it was settled, and Ward soon took his departure. 
 
 " I'll call at half-past five," he said at parting. 
 " That will give us- time enough to drive around by 
 the bluff and still have an hour's daylight for croquet. 
 It's lovely around the bluff by moonlight, isn't it, 
 Jennie ?" 
 
 " I never saw it by moonlight that I can remember," 
 said Jennie, whose moonlight drives had been few 
 indeed. 
 
 She went upstairs the moment Ward left, and Lele
 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS. 171 
 
 was once more thrown upon her own resources for 
 entertainment. As she sat sewing on the veranda, she 
 smiled half sadly as she thought of her step-sister's 
 neglect. 
 
 "And yet I think there is some good in the girl, if 
 I can ever find it," she reflected. 
 
 Jennie, meanwhile, was sitting on the edge of the 
 bed in her dingy room, pondering over Ward's motive 
 in coming here, and including her, for the first time for 
 many months, in an invitation to a party. That it was 
 a bad motive she had no doubt. It was at least one 
 that would increase the Fairfax woes if it depressed 
 Jennie. It certainly did not raise her spirits much 
 when she came to look at the matter from all sides. 
 Dress was, of course, to be considered first, the bare 
 thought of which was to Jennie like the blowing of 
 the east wind in a time of drought. 
 
 Jennie's wardrobe was of the slenderest. Two 
 dresses composed the stock available for company 
 attire, the despised lawn and her faded old alpaca. 
 She took them both out of the press, brushed them 
 carefully, and tried in various ways to freshen them 
 up, so that one might appear presentable enough to 
 wear. But with her best efforts they both looked 
 shabby enough ; not so bad here, though, where every- 
 thing looked clingy and out of date, as they would when 
 seen in Collins's parlor, beside the other girls' pretty 
 new dresses. 
 
 Jennie wondered if a girl was ever so tried with 
 shabby old belongings as she was Her hat she felt
 
 1/2 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 was a fright. Charlie and even Syd had remarked 
 upon its unbecomingness, and boys are very apt to 
 be the best judges of such things. Her gloves were 
 rubbed and split out at the fingers, her shoes not fit to 
 be seen. The rest of the family were as badly off as 
 herself, except Mr. Fairfax, who, being so much in the 
 public eye, had to dress. His children, being obscure 
 .country people, had to keep the interest on the mort- 
 gage paid up, and that did not leave much margin for 
 fashionable clothes. The father, moreover, was too 
 busy looking after the welfare of that needy giant, the 
 Public, to think of so small a matter as the wardrobe of 
 his family. If he spoke of it at all, it was to condemn 
 Jennie for having so little skill with her needle. Jen- 
 nie's retort upon one occasion had effectually silenced 
 him for a time. 
 
 " Can I make goods?" she had acked, passionately. 
 
 As Jennie sat there meditating upon the hopeless- 
 ness of either " rig " as an evening dress, she looked 
 back over the arid desert of the last two years, which 
 should have been the happiest years of her girlhood had 
 her mother lived and monetary matters prospered 
 years that had been just crammed with moonlight 
 drives and sleighrides and parties for Trix and Maud. 
 How bitter to her was the contrast between their lives 
 and hers ! Often she had cried herself to sleep when 
 there was a party to which she was not invited, or could 
 not attend for lack of company. And now that she 
 w r as invited, and had a way to go, to think of being 
 kept at home by her need of decent clothes !
 
 MR. 1'AIRl'AX S VIEWS ON BOYS. 173 
 
 Jennie, moreover, had been Ward's sweetheart in 
 their childhood days. Not until she was old enough 
 to put on long dresses and had been forced to wear 
 such shabby ones had the Beau Brummel of the Ridge 
 deserted her for Maud and a dozen other well-dressed 
 girls. 
 
 " It gives me the lockjaw to see Jinks in that old 
 alpaca," was his only excuse. " I couldn't talk to her 
 if I tried." 
 
 On his way home that afternoon he prayed to his 
 god, Eros Ward was an unconscious idolater that 
 Jen's hopeless party dresses might in some manner be 
 rendered hors du combat before the party came off. 
 
 " I don't want to haul either one of 'em in my 
 buggy," he devoutly added. 
 
 Jennie, while helpless, felt instinctively that her 
 mode of dress had cost her a very handsome lover. 
 And Jen worshiped beauty. It was but another drop 
 in her cup of bitterness that the only man who had ever 
 tried to win her for a wife had been the champion ugly 
 man of the neighborhood, a bald-headed^ broken- 
 nosed widower, who had been her pet aversion all 
 her life. It did not afford much balm for her wounded 
 pride to know that her lack of style was one thing that 
 had attracted to her side this economical admirer. 
 
 " Jinny'll never break up no man with her extrav- 
 agance," Mr. Markley had remarked at the Ridge one 
 day before services, when the farmers were holding a 
 conference on cut-worms and hard times generally. 
 Charlie, who had overheard him, had quoted this so
 
 174 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 often, and in so many different keys, that Jennie won- 
 dered sometimes how she would lire and keep her 
 senses until he exchanged it for some new mode of 
 
 torture. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Mr. Fairfax came home to supper. After the meal 
 was over, Lele went into the garden to have a chat with 
 this excellent gentleman, who, minus his coat, but plus 
 vest, cuffs, a fashionable hat, and a laundried collar 
 that sawed his chin, had decided to hoe a few weeds, 
 but abandoned the uncongenial work with great cheer- 
 fulness as soon as his daughter joined him. Mr. Fair- 
 fax, like too many of us, never could talk and work at 
 the same time. 
 
 " Oh, don't let me interrupt," pleaded Lele. " I 
 can talk while you work." 
 
 " No matter ; I can make but little headway, the 
 weeds have got such a start," said Mr. Fairfax, glanc- 
 ing about him impatiently. " This looks bad, Lelia, to 
 see things in the vegetable garden in such shape. But 
 that's the way my boys do. Syd will be busy with the 
 wheat what with hauling, threshing and exchanging 
 work for the next month, I'll wager, and by that 
 time all hope of a profitable garden will be blasted. 
 The weeds will be taller than the picket fence." 
 
 " It would take one man most of the time to care 
 for it," said Lele. 
 
 " I might do it myself if I were at home. But I'm 
 away half my time. If the girls hoed more in the
 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS. 175 
 
 garden and mowed less on the lawn, it would really be 
 more profitable. Jennie bas been boiling ever since the 
 horses got into her flower beds the other night. Fuss- 
 ing over the lawn is ruining her temper. I wish Syd 
 would plough it all up and put it in tobacco. And half 
 the trees might be cut down for firewood. But Syd 
 and Jennie both have the crankiest notions! For one 
 thing, they will have the veranda and chimneys loaded 
 with vines. They're nothing but snake harbors." 
 
 " Have you ever found any snakes in them ?' asked 
 Lele. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax struck an attitude and was about to 
 begin a dissertation on reptiles, he being local authority 
 on that rather "crawly" subject. Lele saw that her 
 only chance for being heard was to ignore her own 
 question and speak first. 
 
 " Papa," she began, hurriedly, " I was so sorry that 
 you did not come home to dinner. Let me tell you 
 what I have ventured to do. I do so hope you will 
 not disapprove." And she told him at once just what 
 she had done. Mr. Fairfax dropped the hoe as if 
 paralyzed. 
 
 " Crack-brained girl that you are !" he cried. 
 " Would you send the boy straight to perdition ?" 
 
 " Rather I would try to help him attain a useful 
 manhood," said Lele, much hurt. 
 
 " Haven't I forbidden you to mention machinery to 
 him again?" 
 
 " I could not believe you really meant it."
 
 176 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ''Foolish, foolish girl!" muttered Mr. Fairfax. 
 
 " You will not allow me even to speak to Ed on the 
 subject, even if I get the school?" questioned Lele. 
 
 " If you have any respect for my wishes, no, 
 emphatically no!' 
 
 " But wouldn't it be better to encourage him in 
 some honorable occupation that he likes, than compel 
 him to stay on the farm until he gets desperate and 
 runs away?" 
 
 " Pooh ! there's no danger of his running away." 
 
 " He told me he would not stay here another year." 
 
 "And Syd said the same thing at his age. Now 
 you'll not find a steadier worker than that same Syd. 
 At eighteen he got restless and dissatisfied; wasn't 
 making any headway, he said ; wanted to teach school, 
 go to college, be a lawyer, doctor, or something. Farm 
 life was too slow, too plodding, too confining ; felt that 
 he had faculties that were rusting out here, etc. 
 Fiddlesticks! Suppose I'd gone to the expense of 
 sending him to college ; the farm would have gone 
 under the hammer for lack of help to carry it on, and 
 Syd would to-day have been sitting in some dingy law 
 office waiting for clients and gnawing crusts. Ed likes 
 to hear himself talk ; but barking dogs seldom bite, you 
 know. All he wants is to have that wheel nonsense 
 taken out of his head, as the lawyer tomfoolery was 
 out of Syd's, and he'll be all right." 
 
 " But, father, you ought to consider the difference 
 in the two boys. Syd's character is totally unlike Ed's. 
 What would build up one might destroy the other.
 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS. 177 
 
 Parents surely ought to consider the tastes of their 
 children in assigning them life occupations. A man 
 can only work cheerfully when his heart is in his work, 
 and I am sure Ed's heart is not in farm work." 
 
 " Well, if he had some of the laziness taken out of 
 him, his heart would be in the work," said Mr. Fairfax, 
 irritably. 
 
 " Father, do you like farm work ?" 
 
 " I don't follow the plow any more myself. I'm too 
 old now." (Mr. Fairfax was fifty.) "And besides it 
 takes one to manage while others work. Furthermore, 
 I have so much business to transact for others, and so 
 much to see to, that I can scarcely find an hour to call 
 my own. There's a man looking for me now some- 
 thing about the new pike, I suppose, or maybe the 
 bridge, or a subpoena. I must find out what he wants. 
 If I'm called away from home as is likely there's 
 not a day passes that I'm not wanted somewhere 
 remember, not a word to Ed about this new project 
 of yours. It would be a foolish step for you to take, 
 in any event. Better stay with the Carpenters and 
 enjoy yourself." 
 
 " Enjoy myself while Ed's life is being spoiled !" 
 exclaimed Lelc. And her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! No use to worry about him. I know 
 all about boys, and you don't. Let them see that 
 they've got to toe the line, and they toe it! Look what 
 I've saved Syd from. And the same rule works well 
 with girls. Think of Jennie strolling over the country 
 with some low comedy company ! Instead, she's in a 
 (12)
 
 178 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. * 
 
 respectable home, likely to marry, one of these days, a 
 man who has a good home to offer her. Depend upon 
 it, Lele, Ed wants nothing so much as a damper on this 
 wheel craze. A little injudicious encouragement has 
 spoiled many a man for life." 
 
 Lele wondered, as she left him, whose encourage- 
 ment had spoiled her father. Somebody's evidently 
 had! 
 
 Oh, for some wise, sympathizing friend to appeal 
 to in her perplexity ! 
 
 When the boys came in for supper, Lele, who was 
 sitting on the back porch caressing some cunning, vel- 
 vety balls of kittens which Tude had just placed in her 
 lap, noticed that they all looked tired and jaded. Your 
 farmer in harvest, far from looking fat and hearty on 
 the bountiful harvest fare, looks lantern-jawed and 
 hollow-eyed. And no wonder. Constant heavy work 
 from 3 A. M. till 9 p. M. is enough to break any man 
 down. The two older ones went into the house through 
 the kitchen as though wishing to avoid her, but Clem 
 and Charlie dropped down on the grass at her feet to 
 look at the kittens. 
 
 "What have you boys been doing since dinner?" 
 asked Lele, pulling Clem's ear by way of a friendly 
 overture. 
 
 (" She forgets how mean we treated her about the 
 presents," thought Clem, and felt disposed to drop a 
 penitential kiss upon her white fingers.) 
 
 " Tryin' to put Hubbard's cows out o' the corn," 
 Charlie was replying. " They'd been in all morning,
 
 MR. FAiKl-AXS VIEWS ON BOYS. 
 
 takin' it row at a time. We never did have any real 
 nice corn that some dratted beast didn't make way 
 with. I reckon they'd finished it if Ward Collins hadn't 
 seen 'em an' stopped to tell us as he came by. He was 
 tellin' the boys somethin' about a party somewhere, but 
 I don't b'lieve Syd ever waited to see where it was to 
 be, he was that mad about the cattle. Where is the 
 party, Lele?" 
 
 "At Mr. Collins's." 
 
 "Well, I'll bet Syd an' Ed don't go. They never 
 invite Ed, 'cause Miss Trix is too good to speak to him. 
 She says no drunken gambler shall enter her parlor; 
 for all, Morris St. John takes a glass now an' then, but 
 she don't seem to know that." 
 
 " Does Ed really gamble?" 
 
 " He plays ' keerds ' out in the barn all night some- 
 times, an' down to the station, too; he loses money at 
 it, or would if he had any to lose. Father's got a 
 notice out that he won't pay any of his debts." 
 
 " Charlie, tell me, has Ed been " -she hesitated 
 " intoxicated often ?" 
 
 " He's been drunk lots of times this spring, but 
 father doesn't know it. He always sobers up, you see, 
 before the ole man gets back. He'd have skinned him 
 alive if he'd been here Saturday night," he added, in 
 a guarded undertone. 
 
 " You'd better keep dark," warned Clem. " Ed's 
 in a high ole temper this evening. Him an' Syd's both 
 mad ez hornets." 
 
 " Quarreling again ! " sighed Lele.
 
 l8o THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Syd didn't say much, but I c'd see he hed all 
 he c'd do to hold his tongue," said Clem. " Ed got 
 mad at the cattle first, an' then him an' Syd had a scrap, 
 an' the cuss words flew like sut when the chimbley's 
 afire." 
 
 "Ain't it awful?" said Tude. "He'll go to the 
 bad place, sure." 
 
 " Syd can't bear t' be swore at," Clem went on. 
 " It just raises his dander, an' makes him fly all to 
 pieces. I never knowed anybody's stock get into our 
 fields that them two didn't have a racket 'fore we got 
 'em finally boosted, did you, Charlie ? " 
 
 " Har'ly ever. But this morning Syd seemed 
 bound not to jaw Ed, though I c'd see he wanted to 
 whip the earth with him. If I'd ben Syd I'd have 
 knocked him down with a rock." 
 
 "Oh, Charlie!" 
 
 " Sometimes I wish Ed would go 'long off ; he 
 keeps us all riled till we can't see straight." 
 
 " Doesn't Syd ' rile ' you, too ? " 
 
 " No, Lele. To be sure, he makes us work like 
 clinkers, an' won't stan' no foolishness. But he tries 
 to do right, an' he wants things done in good shape. 
 If it wasn't for him, everything about this ranch would 
 go to sticks. But I think we'd get along better if we 
 didn't have to drive stock so much. The fences are 
 rotten as pears, an' on an average of five times -a week 
 we've got to have a siege of fence-fixin' an' runnin' 
 stock helter-skelter, over hills an' hollers, through 
 plowed ground, briar patches an' what not, till we're
 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIEWS ON BOYS. 181 
 
 mad at each other an' everything else. No wonder 
 we're so ragged," he added, displaying a tattered sleeve. 
 " If we dressed in buckskin, we couldn't keep in clothes, 
 an' Jen bawls pretty near every ironin' day 'cause 
 there's such a jolly lot of things to patch." 
 
 " The fences must be bad ! " 
 
 " Bad ! They're nothin' much but brush heaps. If 
 pap had built good fences when he had money, instead 
 o speculatin' it away, we'd be better off. But he never 
 sees to anything except public business. Private busi- 
 ness is too small for him. He's always sayin' what 
 a fine occupation farmin' is. I guess if -he'd run hogs 
 an' cattle as much as the rest of us, he'd change his 
 mind." 
 
 " Charlie, I may be mistaken, but I'm afraid you 
 children have gotten into the habit of criticising other 
 members of the family who are absent. Isn't it a little 
 unkind ? It seems to me that it destroys confidence in 
 families, and makes each one's ears begin to burn as 
 soon as he is out of sight of the ot'hers. If charity 
 begins at home, why not begin by being charitable to 
 each other's faults? Could any of us be happy if we 
 knew that we were being found fault with by all the 
 rest of the family every time our backs were turned ? " 
 
 The children hung their heads guiltily. 
 
 '* Happiness," she resumed, in her softest voice, " is 
 the best thing we can possess in this world, and even 
 the smallest child soon learns that no one can be happy 
 without the love and confidence of its nearest relatives. 
 F^ault-finding is one of the surest ways of making
 
 l82 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 our dearest friends miserable. Take poor Ed, for 
 instance " 
 
 " People who don't know anything about bears 
 think bears make nice pets," interrupted Charlie. 
 
 " Well, they do in time," said Lele, smiling, " if 
 they are properly trained, you know. I'd have been 
 a perfect little wildcat, myself, if I'd been permitted to 
 grow up untrained." 
 
 " I'll bet you never had anything to make you mad 
 in your life," retorted Charlie, adding slyly, " till you 
 came here ! " 
 
 " You ought to drive sheep an' hogs once," added 
 Clem, with conviction. 
 
 " I know it must be trying. I sympathize with you 
 truly, and if I ever have it in my power, I shall rebuild 
 the fences just to give you boys a season of peace and 
 quiet. I'm as sorry for you as I can be." 
 
 Lele's sympathy was very taking. The boys drew 
 nearer; her presence did them good. Charlie had 
 thought when she began her little sermon on fault- 
 finding that he would slip a cricket down the back of 
 her neck to see if she would " take on " as Jen did 
 when her sermons were similarly interrupted. But 
 now he resolved to postpone it. Lele \vas such a sweet 
 girl ; it would be a mean shame to aggravate her with 
 crickets after all she had been through here! 
 ******* 
 
 "I'll tell you what, I like that girl ! " exclaimed 
 Clem, as he climbed into bed that night. " She's real 
 pleasant, an' her laugh makes you kind of feel good.
 
 MR. FAIRFAX'S VIKWS ox BOYS. 183 
 
 . I wish Jin was more like her. Confound Jin ! It's 
 got so here lately it's har'ly safe to walk past her, fear 
 she'll give you a whack, unbeknownst. I actually 
 wouldn't put it much a-past her to come up here after 
 we're asleep an' give us a clubbin' for some of our 
 misdemeanors." 
 
 " 'Sphyxia would get the worst end o' the bargain 
 if she tried clubbin' me unbeknownst," said Charlie, 
 drumming on the headboard. " I say, Clem, I do 
 wonder if Lele's ever seen the ghost yet." 
 
 " I d'know." Clem shut his eyes, because he fan- 
 cied he saw a light spot shining in the darkness. 
 " S'pose Jen 'd care if she did?" 
 
 " No; I'll be bound she wouldn't. Jen's that hard- 
 hearted she wouldn't care if it scared her to death." 
 
 "It's mean of her to put Lele in the spare room, 
 ain't it?" 
 
 " Mean ez dirt, an' I'M tell Jin so the next time she 
 turns her lip on me. I wish sometimes she'd get mar- 
 ried 'fore she gits so ill there's no livin' with her." 
 
 " Don't you pity her husband, though ? " 
 
 " Not if she gets ole Markley, for he thrashed me 
 once for stealin' his pears. I've been tryin' to get even 
 with him ever since, an' I guess I'll not be able to 
 do better than to get up a match between him an' Jen. 
 Won't his ears ring, though !" 
 
 " I'll bet she'll be an ole maid." 
 
 " You'll have to take care of her, then, when you 
 marry. She'll be apt to make her home with you, 
 Clem."
 
 184 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 "I'll not!" cried Clem, stoutly. "You can take 
 care of her your own self." 
 
 " It will be just like you an' Cora to take her, for 
 neither of you have the spunk of a chicken-creeper." 
 
 " I'll show you whether I have the spunk of a 
 chicken-creeper ! " said Clem, angrily ; and he kicked 
 his brother out of bed.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 
 
 On the morning of the party, Lele, seeing that the 
 younger girls were disposed to be more friendly, called 
 them into her room to give them some of the clothing 
 which she had outgrown, and had packed for her 
 younger sisters. Among them was a white India linen 
 adorned with pale blue ribbons, and a silver gray cash- 
 mere that a very little altering would transform into 
 stylish suits for Cora. The two girls, utterly forgetful 
 of Jennie and wild with delight, instantly pulled off 
 their old faded calico dresses and shabby shoes and 
 stocking to try on those Lele had brought. There 
 were several beautiful dresses that were not a bad 
 fit for Tude, nor so badly out of date that a little 
 remodeling would not render quite presentable. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I never expected to have so pretty a 
 dress as this," sighed Cora, gazing rapturously in the 
 glass after donning the gray cashmere. " It fits me as 
 well as if it had been made for me, and, I declare, it's 
 prettier than Sue Hubbard's new summer silk." 
 
 " It's very becoming, Cora, or will be when I touch 
 it up a little," said Lele. " I hope you'll like it." 
 
 " Oh, I'll like it," said Cora, in her soft, easy way. 
 " It suits me down to the ground. May I go show it 
 to Jin ? " 
 
 ( 185 )
 
 l86 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You'd better not. She'll skin you if you do," 
 warned Tude. " You know what she said." 
 
 Cora raised her eyebrows and pursed up her lips 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " It would make her mad, I guess, like the time 
 you said all the rest but her were to come up after 
 bur presents. She was hoppin', I tell you ! But I do 
 hope she won't make me give this back, for I need a 
 new dress so much. I wish it was longer, for then 
 Jen might have it herself. She needs it awful bad." 
 
 " She won't let you keep it, I know," sighed Tude. 
 " Just think, Code, how her old lawn, or the alpaca, 
 either, would look by that rich, gray dress ! " 
 
 " It's cashmere, too," Cora added, as though that 
 made the case hopeless, "just like Sue Hubbard's 
 spring dress." (Sue was just Cora's age and her cri- 
 terion in everything. All through childhood they had 
 been chums, but of late they had been drifting apart, 
 just as Trix and Jennie had done when the difference 
 in their fortunes began to be manifested in " clothes 
 and beaux.") " Jen's been nearly crazy for a cash- 
 mere ever so long. But none of us ever had one not 
 even mamma. Jen's alpaca was made out of an old 
 one. Don't you think, Lele, that this dress could be 
 let down some way, so she could wear it? We need 
 never let her know that I tried it on first." 
 
 " What is she going to wear to-night ? " asked Lele. 
 
 " Her alpaca, I'xpect. I wanted her to press off the 
 lawn and wear it; but she says it looks, if anything, 
 worse than the other, and I don't know but it does.
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 187 
 
 Them's the only two dresses she has fit to wear away 
 from home." 
 
 Lele turned abruptly away and began to rummage 
 through the closet. Her cheeks were flushed, a lump 
 was in her throat ; she could hardly keep from crying. 
 
 Think of it! Only two dresses for company; one 
 of them a cheap lawn, and the other a rusty alpaca 
 made out of an old one. What would Lele feel like 
 if her wardrobe were as skimpy as that? Involun- 
 tarily, she took down a rich, black etamine, made 
 early in the spring, and for some reason never worn 
 but once. This would suit Jennie, and if she would 
 accept it, she should have it for her own. Lele felt 
 pretty sure that they were near enough of one size to 
 insure that it would fit her. It was only one out of 
 an abundant wardrobe, for Lele had never known what 
 it was to be denied a new dress whenever she wanted 
 one. In that respect her aunt had been the soul of 
 liberality. In fact, nothing was too good for her pretty 
 niece. Had Lele demanded diamonds, she would have 
 tried to gratify her. 
 
 " I wonder if Jennie would accept this," Lele said. 
 
 " What ! that lovely dress ! " exclaimed Cora, in 
 amazement. " You must be rich if you can afford to 
 give that away." 
 
 " No, I'm not rich ; but I have plenty of clothes, 
 and it isn't right that I should have so many more than 
 Jennie." 
 
 "Jen never dreamed of anything so swell," sighed 
 Cora, and suddenly caught her breath as she added:
 
 i88 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Oh, I'd forgot her dreadful crackled shoes, an' that 
 hat of hers. Lele, don't offer it to her. I'm sure she'd 
 never put it on till she can get somethin' to correspond 
 with it." 
 
 " I'll see to that, of course," said Lele. 
 
 She added to the dress a hat, a collar, handkerchief, 
 kid gloves, a ribbon and a pair of slippers dainty 
 enough for Cinderella, except in size ; wrote on a 
 card, " Jennie, from Lele," pinned it on, and bade her 
 sisters carry the whole costume to Jennie's room and 
 say that Lele had sent her love and begged that she 
 would accept it all as a token of sisterly regard. 
 
 " We'll not tell her what it is," said Tude, as Cora 
 carefully arranged the costume on Jennie's bed. 
 " We'll tell her there's something on her bed, an' see 
 her bounce up-stairs with the broom to drive it out, 
 for she'll "be certain it's the cat." 
 
 Cora, upon mature reflection, thought it quite too 
 much trouble to go down-stairs and come up again 
 to see the effect of the surprise, but hid in Syd's bed- 
 room opposite and listened for Jennie, who, true to 
 Tude's prediction, came up prepared to do brilliant 
 execution with the broom, but stopped short and stood 
 rigid .as though paralyzed by the sight of the dress. 
 The broom slipped from her belligerent grasp and fell 
 to the floor as she picked up Lele's card and read it. 
 
 Cora and Tude rushed in, bursting with laughter, 
 and delivered Lele's sisterly message. Jennie did not 
 say a word in reply; she couldn't. Hastily putting 
 them both out of the room, she locked the door,
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 189 
 
 threw herself down on Tude's bed, and burst into a 
 passion of tears. 
 
 The two girls went down-stairs with a disappointed 
 air. 
 
 " Jen's so everlastin' queer," said Cora. " You 
 never know whether she's goin' to go into hysterics 
 or blow you sky high. I wish she was more like other 
 girls." 
 
 "An' what we're to tell Lele when she was so 
 clever with her presents I can't say," mused Tude. 
 "Anybody that couldn't say 'thankee' for that rich 
 dress ! " 
 
 As Jean grew calmer, her first impulse was to thank 
 Lele, humbly ask her forgiveness, and strive to make 
 the rest of her visit as pleasant as possible. It was 
 heaping coals of fire on her head with a vengeance 
 for Lele, whom she had treated so unkindly, to make 
 her a present of the very things she needed most, and 
 at a time when it seemed out of the question for her 
 to refuse. Jennie fairly writhed with shame when she 
 thought of her abominable rudeness so nobly requited. 
 And yet so strong is habit, she found that she could 
 not put her resolve into execution. 
 
 She thought about it all day, one minute willing 
 to keep the gift. and make the bitter and humiliating 
 confession ; the next, resolved to give the whole outfit 
 back and go on as she had been doing. 
 
 " I don't really want her here under any consider- 
 ation," was the cry of jealous pain. " I want to drive 
 her away where I can never be tormented by the sight 
 of her."
 
 190 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 At last she resolved to wear the dress to the party 
 the temptation was irresistible when she found that 
 everything, even to the shoes and gloves, fitted as if 
 made for her but not until time to dress for the 
 party could she bring herself to address Lele on the 
 subject poor, disenchanted Lele, who in " the broad- 
 minded, deep-hearted country " had so confidently 
 looked " for broad, Christian charity, for simple, con- 
 sistent, child-like faith in God and man." 
 
 " You are very kind to lend me the dress," she said ; 
 " I wouldn't wear one that wasn't mine on any account, 
 only I don't want you to have to appear in such shab- 
 bily dressed company as I should otherwise be." 
 
 " I shall be very much hurt if you mention return- 
 ing the dress or anything I sent with it," said Lele. 
 " I want you to have it all for your very own, Jennie 
 dear." 
 
 The girl's eyes filled with tears and she turned 
 away without saying a word. Charlie, who was stand- 
 ing near, caught Lele by the arm, whispering dramati- 
 cally 
 
 " Lele, you've crossed the Rubicon an' squelched 
 the enemy right in her own country. So help me 
 gracious ! " 
 
 Ed and Syd, very much to Lele's disappointment, 
 obstinately refused to go to the party, though without 
 assigning any particular reasons. 
 
 Jennie had four-o'clock supper in crder that the 
 evening work might all be done up before time to 
 go, running herself nearly " off her feet " to get her
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. IQI 
 
 work in such a shape that she felt she could leave it. 
 When she went up-stairs to dress she was tired enough 
 to " sink in her tracks." 
 
 " What's the use- to go, tired as I am," she thought, 
 despondently. "I'll only be a wall-flower; Lele will 
 get all the attention." 
 
 She put on the beautiful slippers and felt slightly 
 refreshed. 
 
 " I guess I'll risk it," she thought. When her toilet 
 was complete she felt like another girl. 
 
 " Jee-whizz ! don't she loom ! " cried Charlie, put- 
 ting his head in at the half-open door. " Jen, you're 
 no slouch it's the way you comb your hair." 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said Jennie,, less sharply than 
 usual, however. 
 
 " There ain't no flies on that dress ! " said Charlie, 
 admiringly ; " an', by gorry ! that hat is all wool an' 
 a yard wide, or I ain't here." 
 
 " Keep still, Charlie," said Jennie, with a start. 
 She had heard a man's voice down-stairs. 
 
 " It ain't ole Markley's step you hear," said Charlie. 
 " I say, Jen, I would give ole sheepy the -go-by if I 
 could do better. It would be worth while to set that 
 cap at a handsomer man." 
 
 Lele, some time earlier, had gone down-stairs in a 
 gauzy black dress that made her skin look like ala- 
 baster. She found Ed in the sitting room mending 
 one of Tude's toys. 
 
 "'What do 7 care for a party?" he growled, when 
 she made a last effort to coax him to go. " I never
 
 192 THE MAN WITH THIS HOE. 
 
 was at but two parties in my life, an' I thought if I 
 got away from them without turnin' to stone or salt, 
 I'd never go to another. Dryest places 't ever / 
 was at." 
 
 " You ought to keep going, though," said Lele. 
 " Parties are really the thing a young fellow of your 
 age needs. They help you socially, and " 
 
 " Well, if you want a society man, I'll cite you to 
 pap," said Ed. " I shouldn't wonder a bit if he'd go 
 if he could have half a chance." 
 
 " Seriously, Ed, I think it helps a boy in many ways 
 to go to parties. For one thing, it places him in the 
 society of good people and ought to give him a distaste 
 for low characters. Being with nice girls is a great 
 help to any young man." 
 
 " The ' nice girls ' of Bethany Ridge wouldn't wipe 
 their old shoes on me," said Ed, with a look of bitter 
 humiliation, and hurried out of the room as though to 
 avoid a painful discussion. Lele felt very sorry for 
 Ed then. There were moments when he would gladly 
 have " gone with the best " and turned his back on 
 his low associates, but society had its foot on his neck. 
 Like too many boys, he had lost his way, socially. 
 Bethany society never dreamed of holding out a help- 
 ing-hand to such as he. Alas, poor Ed ! 
 
 Syd now came in from the sitting room, where he 
 had been playing with Tude while Cora cleared away 
 the supper dishes. 
 
 " You look nice in that thin, black dress, Lele," he
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 193 
 
 said. " Let me get some of those large, dark-red roses 
 out by the gate to complete your toilette." 
 
 " No ; I prefer honeysuckle blossoms," said Lele. 
 " The red roses are for Jennie ; they contrast with her 
 dark beauty. For myself, I love the sweet honeysuckle 
 best," and she buried her face in a great cluster of the 
 fragrant blossoms. 
 
 " You can wear anything and still look sweet," 
 said Syd, trying the effect of both roses and honey- 
 suckles ; " but the roses are much the more ' fetch- 
 ing.' " 
 
 " No matter. I'm not expecting to do much in the 
 fetching line to-night," said Lele, easily. 
 
 " I wonder why. You haven't an ornament of any 
 description ; and, candidly, I think I've seen you dress 
 your hair more becomingly." 
 
 " I don't think any harm will be done by my 
 Quaker-like appearance," said Lele, who had dressed 
 with great plainness as a foil to Jen's splendid appear- 
 ance. She wanted the unhappy girl for once to feel 
 that she was not eclipsed in dress. 
 
 " I didn't want to go to the party with Ward and 
 Jennie," Lele added ; " for I really believe they would 
 get on better without me." 
 
 " You must know that he only asked her on your 
 account." 
 
 "And I don't care to have him come here on my 
 account. I meant what I said to you about him Sun- 
 day evening, Syd." 
 
 d3)
 
 194 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I don't hold you to any such bargain. I really 
 wish you would keep on the good side of the Collinses. 
 Lele. I can't, to save my life." 
 
 " Ward invited you to his party, and you ought to 
 have gone." 
 
 "" If you knew exactly how rude I was to him, you 
 wouldn't wonder at me for staying at home." 
 
 " You were mad about the cattle, Charlie says. 
 Suppose you come in and apologize." 
 
 " Nix." 
 
 "Please, Syd." 
 
 " Couldn't possibly retract." 
 
 " What did you say, you bad boy ? " 
 
 " Can't say exactly. Just the sight of him driving 
 over the country, with Venus and Di, inviting people 
 to a party, while I was driving cattle, made me furious. 
 I know I acted like a fool. But if I were to go to 
 the gallows for it, I couldn't and wouldn't apologize. 
 I don't blame Ward so much. He tried to treat me 
 well, but he doesn't and can't know the effect his deuced 
 gayety has on me." 
 
 . Lele thought of Maud St. Johns, and wondered if 
 he were still jealous. 
 
 " Syd," she asked, after a pause, " is your rudeness 
 to Ward yesterday afternoon your only reason for 
 wishing to remain at home to-night?" 
 
 " No ; I'm afraid Maud will be there, and that Ward 
 will show her some attention. Keep him with you, 
 Lele. I may win Maud yet with such a powerful rival 
 out of the way," jestingly.
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 195 
 
 Syd was fast getting over the gloom into which his 
 interview with Keith and Maud had thrown him. He 
 could even bring her name into the conversation, which 
 for a few hours he felt that he could never do again. 
 After all, Syd was glad he had taken the stroll past 
 Maud's house on that particular evening. Where 
 quinine is needed, magnesia and sugar never have 
 proved efficacious. 
 
 Before Jennie came down Lele had time to talk 
 over Syd's offense with young Collins, who answered 
 impetuously at first, but soon was laughing and pro- 
 testing that it was all right. 
 
 " It's just because I don't understand Syd any 
 more," he said, frankly, " or else I used to impose on 
 him shamefully. He used to pet me like a kitten, and 
 I thought I knew every kink in his character. But his 
 whole nature seemed to change as he grew into man- 
 hood; just as Jennie's " 
 
 The door opened at this moment, and Jean, looking 
 lovely in her " borrowed plumes," walked regally into 
 the apartment, her head held as proudly as if the lovely 
 hat she wore had been a diadem. Ward felt like rub- 
 bing his eyes. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he thought, " is that Jen McKnight, 
 or some young princess who has solicited the loan of 
 her eyes? The rest of the personality is a stranger 
 to me." 
 
 He had always thought her a dowdy-looking girl, 
 for even in her school days she was never well dressed, 
 though her lack of self-consciousness in those happy
 
 196 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 days had shorn her commonplace garments of half their 
 ugliness. Of late, Ward had considered her a perfectly 
 hopeless " guy." But this evening Jennie McKnight 
 looked as she had never looked in all her life, having 
 all at once emerged into a charming womanhood, as 
 surprising as it was dazzling. The scowls and frowns 
 and brooding discontent had disappeared; to-night, 
 freed from the baleful influence of the crackle-toed 
 shoes, fearful-looking hat and faded alpaca, she looked 
 a different being. Now she could smile, a rich color 
 glowed in her cheeks, and under the long, fringed 
 lashes the dark eyes shone like stars. 
 
 "A regular Cinderella transformed," thought Ward. 
 " I suppose her step-sister is the sweet fairy who 
 wrought the miracle. Poor Jen ! I hope she'll marry 
 a rich man, for she never can look well except in some- 
 thing handsome. I do wonder if that is the reason for 
 her looking so sour and sulky of late. That old alpaca 
 was enough to scare the crows. One really couldn't 
 feel comfortable in the vicinity of such a rig, and as 
 for offering to take her anywhere in it, I really hadn't 
 the courage to do it. By Jove! it would have been 
 easier to sink the Merrimac ! " 
 
 The drive through the delicious evening air was 
 a continuous pleasure ; the view from the bluff charm- 
 ing, and the party a success. Everybody, for a won- 
 der, treated Jennie with unusual consideration, though 
 Maud once mortified her by praising her new dress 
 with rather a knowing smile. 
 
 Jennie inwardly trembled with a fear that she would
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 197 
 
 next ask who made it and where she bought it; how 
 much it cost a yard and whether it was all wool. 
 Maud had a habit of quizzing sensitive people in this 
 way, and hardly ever failed to draw out the informa- 
 tion for the public that Jennie's shoes were two sizes 
 larger than her own Maud standing proudly on a 
 Number I. The smallest feet in the neighborhood 
 were Maud's, as her waist was the slenderest, her 
 tongue the liveliest, her satire most dreaded, her friend- 
 ship most courted. But, fortunately, Maud even was 
 lenient to-night. Lele was not overwhelmed with 
 attention, nor was Jennie ignored. Even Ward was 
 attentive to Jennie, and for once that young lady had 
 what might fairly be considered " a good time." 
 
 Late in the evening, when Ward and Jennie hap- 
 pened to be alone together for a few moments, he 
 said: 
 
 " I've wanted all evening to tell you how nice you 
 look, Jinsey ; but couldn't with Maud everlastingly at 
 my elbow." (He and Maud had made up their late 
 "tiff" to-night, thanks to Trix's clever maneuvering.) 
 
 " No wonder you noticed that I am better dressed 
 than usual," said Jennie, sensitively. " I have Lele to 
 thank for it, as I guess you know," she added. 
 
 " It's lovely of her to let you eclipse her." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " You are ever so much the better dressed. And 
 to-night you look lovely. You must marry rich, Jin- 
 sey, so you can wear diamonds and costly satins 
 with sweeping trains."
 
 198 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Xonsense! " 
 
 " I dreamed of you last night in a white silk dress 
 made with a court train and with diamonds flashing 
 in your hair. You were surrounded by admirers, but 
 when I came up you turned your back on all of them 
 and talked only to me." 
 
 " Thanks ! " with nervous laughter. " Dreams 
 always go by contraries, though, don't they ? " 
 
 " You mean you would not have turned from the 
 other fellows to me ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I meant I don't ever expect to wear 
 satin and diamonds, Ward." 
 
 " Yes, you will. It's decreed," said Ward, confi- 
 dently. " You'd make an elegant widow, Jinsey. 
 There's Mr. Markley he'll drop off one of these days 
 with apoplexy if he persists in wearing those dreadful 
 high collars. I understand that he has sheep enough 
 to buy his widow a coronet, and that you are his first 
 choice." 
 
 Jean did not reply. The young people were leaving 
 for home, and the conversation interrupted here, was 
 not resumed. But Jean was sorry she had not set him 
 right on the subject of Mr. Markley. 
 
 That night, as the two girls went up-stairs, after 
 their return from the party, Jennie again offered to 
 return the costume, which she still maintained was only 
 borrowed " to keep Lele from being put out of counte- 
 nance." Lele, however, positively refused to listen to 
 such a proposition. But neither her generosity, nor 
 the sisterly kindness and tact that had, throughout the
 
 THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. 199 
 
 evening, done so much to insure her comfort, was 
 powerful enough to exorcise the evil spirit that still 
 held possession of poor Jen. Murmuring some broken 
 words of gratitude, she paused irresolutely at her bed- 
 room door, half willing to ask Lele to come in and 
 share her room in peace, with no haunting fear of 
 ghosts to disturb her dreams; but as Lele passed ort, 
 she did not recall her. Instead, she went in and locked 
 the door. A chill seemed to settle on her spirits. 
 
 Cora, roused by the grating of the key in the lock, 
 sat up drowsily. 
 
 " Oh, it's you, Jen," she said. " Do tell me who 
 was at the party." 
 
 " Everybody," said Jennie, ambiguously, as she 
 took off her hat and gloves before the little cracked 
 glass. 
 
 "Was Sue Hubbard?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh, Jen ! You're jokin'." 
 
 " Not a bit. Sue was there in long dresses." 
 
 " I don't believe it ! " 
 
 "And with her hair done up in the latest agony." 
 
 "Done up" echoed Cora, in tones of dejected 
 amazement. "An' I'll bet," she added, as though noth- 
 ing else would be incredible, " that she had a beau." 
 
 " She had," said Jennie, but with hesitancy. 
 
 " It wasn't Ol Stuart?" 
 
 " It was nobody else. You'd have thought they 
 were engaged." 
 
 Cora drew the sheet up over her head, for there
 
 2OO THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 were angry tears on her cheeks. Ol Stuart had seemed 
 to like her the best last winter at school ; but now that 
 Sue was in long dresses and had her hair " done up," 
 Cora saw that she was distanced. 
 
 '' They might have invited me, too," she thought, 
 resentfully ; " but, after all, I couldn't have gone in 
 either one of Lele's short dresses if Sue was in trails." 
 She lay awake for hours devising some plan to hitch 
 a " trail " to the gray cashmere. Jen, too, lay awake 
 until morning, feeling truly miserable. Neither spoke 
 to the other again.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 
 
 Maud St. John and Trixie Collins put their pretty 
 heads together and made a party. The young people 
 of the neighborhood were invited to play tennis at 
 Maud's home. 
 
 " How many of those Fairfaxes have we got to 
 expect?" asked Trixie, with a weary air; "the whole 
 tribe make me tired. I wish, with papa, that they 
 were in Texas and we had their farm. Syd was over 
 the other day trying to get the note extended another 
 year, but papa won't extend it, though he just put 
 him off a while on some pretext. He says he wants 
 to be sure of the interest money, for he expects to get 
 the whole farm for the face of the note, at sheriff's 
 sale." 
 
 " Wouldn't I have feathered my nest if I had taken 
 Syd?" laughed Maud, softly. "Oh, Trix, did you 
 hear about our adventure Sunday evening ? " 
 
 " Not a word. Why didn't you tell me at the cro- 
 quet party? " 
 
 " I wanted to tell you when we were alone, and 
 I've made Keith promise not to tell. I want to see 
 what Syd would make of it." 
 
 " Make of what? " Miss Trixie's penciled eyebrows 
 
 (201)
 
 2O2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 took on a slight frown. " What could he make of it ? " 
 
 " It was the most absurd thing ! " laughed Maud. 
 " Keith and I were out driving until dark Sunday eve- 
 ning, and as we were coming up the hill beyond our 
 house, something like a great dog or bear rolled and 
 tumbled down the bank right against our buggy 
 wheels, frightening Keith's horse nearly into a stam- 
 pede. It did upset the buggy and both of us were 
 thrown out. It was all Keith could do to prevent it 
 from running away. He was hurt, too, and I was 
 knocked silly with fright. What do you suppose the 
 thing was that caused the trouble, and might have been 
 the means of killing both of us? Why, Syd McKnight, 
 to be sure. He had come over to call, I think, and 
 seeing by the appearance of the house that I was gone, 
 had walked on expressly to give us a fright." 
 
 " Maud, I really think you are mistaken. I never 
 heard of Syd doing such a spiteful thing. He wouldn't 
 be capable of it." 
 
 " But let me tell you what he did that confirms my 
 suspicions. When we asked him to lead or drive the 
 fractious horse up-hill, as Keith was hurt, he flew all 
 to pieces and declared he wouldn't do a thing for us ; 
 said we wouldn't have been upset if Keith had had 
 the lines, and all such stuff, showing that he is still 
 abominally jealous." 
 
 " He had grounds, no doubt." 
 
 " Trixie, he did not. But I don't want his ill-will. 
 I must somehow contrive to have him come to my 
 party. He must accompany his step-sister."
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 203 
 
 " Ward will be certain to be her escort," said Trix, 
 with a disturbed air. " He chatters about her until 
 I am sick of the subject." 
 
 " That is just it, you see. He likes her." Maud 
 made an impressive pause. 
 
 " He likes you far better if we could keep this Fair- 
 fax girl out of his sight. I might somehow induce 
 him to bring Jen, though, if Lele had promised first to 
 accompany Syd." 
 
 " Jen will do, I guess. She would give her eyes 
 any day to be with Ward." 
 
 " Didn't Jinks look pretty the other night ? " Trix 
 remarked, almost involuntarily. 
 
 " She did look rather nice. Good thing, for we 
 never could get Ward to accompany her in her old 
 
 rig-" 
 
 Maud wrote Syd a dear little note, perfumed and 
 delicate and full of subtle flattery, conveyed in a few 
 friendly sentences. She was sorry she had offended 
 him Sunday evening, and wanted to apologize for 
 insulting him by speaking as she did. She wanted 
 him to come to her party, so she could talk it over, 
 etc. She would expect him to bring Lele and Jen 
 without fail. 
 
 She and Kitty called on Lele that afternoon, and 
 Maud succeeded in making Lele believe that Jen's 
 whole evening would be spoiled if she had to go with 
 any one but Ward. 
 
 " I thought Mr. Collins was one of your admirers," 
 said Lele.
 
 2O4 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 < 
 
 " One of my particular friends, that is all," Maud 
 
 replied. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Syd had been driving hogs out of the wheat-field, 
 and was hot with rage and dripping with perspiration 
 when one of the Grimes boys appeared with Maud's 
 note. 
 
 Syd turned faint and sick when he saw the envelope, 
 for he thought it was a notice that the mortgage was 
 to be foreclosed. But the blood rushed back into his 
 cheeks again when he caught sight of Maud's writing. 
 He almost snatched it from the boy's hand. 
 
 " It don't need no answer, she said," observed the 
 boy, and went off, looking back and grinning over his 
 shoulder, while Syd leaned against a wheat shock and 
 tore open the little missive. He felt dizzy somehow, 
 and the lines swam zigzag before his eyes. 
 
 Once he would have devoured Maud's note as a 
 famished man swallows food, reading it again and 
 again that not a morsel of its tantalizing sweetness 
 might escape him ! But now visions of the real Maud, 
 as she had appeared last Sunday evening, swam before 
 the note and made her seem more crooked than the 
 dancing lines. Had he not seen enough of her co- 
 quetry? He crumpled up the note and strode across 
 the fields toward home, the light all gone from his face 
 again. It angered even while it hurt him to think 
 Maud would not leave him in peace ; but must drag 
 him back to make a tool of him in some less obvious,
 
 AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 2O5 
 
 but not less useful manner than driving home 'a dan- 
 gerous horse. 
 
 Just before supper he came into the sitting room, 
 where Lele was sewing, and she saw at a glance that 
 something was "wrong. 
 
 " Lele, I wish there were no such things in creation 
 as parties," he burst out, throwing himself with an 
 angry, impatient air into a large rocker opposite. 
 
 "Why, Syd ? " Her tone, her glance, her very atti- 
 tude of sweet repose partially tranquillized him. 
 
 " We are never invited to one that we don't have 
 a fuss of some kind over it. Jen and I have quarreled 
 over this one, and she is crying so she won't come to 
 supper. It was my fault, entirely, this time," he added, 
 despondently. " I'm more sorry than I can say." 
 
 " She will soon get over it," said Lele, tranquilly. 
 It occurred to her that a few tears might soften Jennie's 
 stony heart. 
 
 " No, she won't. Crying is a serious business with 
 Jen. You w r ill have to take her place at the table and 
 pretend she is sick. Father wouldn't excuse her at 
 all if he knew she was only mad. He is very firm 
 in discipline, though he might as well not be for all 
 the good it does." 
 
 " I'll take her place," said Lele, folding her sewing 
 neatly and putting it away. " Was Jennie coaxing you 
 to go to the party against your wishes ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; quite the contrary. She thinks I would 
 be better off at home." 
 
 " Too bad, when Miss St. John is so anxious to
 
 206 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 have you accompany me, so Mr. ColHns can bring 
 Jen." 
 
 " Indeed ! " Syd raised his eyebrows and gave Lele 
 an odd glance. It was now perfectly plain that Maud 
 was scheming to keep* Ward and Lele apart. He was 
 silent a moment, chafing with resentment against the 
 world in general and Maud in particular. Then in a 
 revulsion of feeling he resolved to accompany Lele. 
 
 " Would you mind going with me ? " he asked 
 simply. 
 
 " Mind ? Why, I should like it," said Lele. " You 
 ought to go, Syd." 
 
 " But if you go with me, you will have to walk," 
 he answered, with a mortified consciousness of his 
 poverty. All the young men on Bethany Ridge had 
 buggies except himself. " It isn't very far across the 
 field, but to avoid the wet grass we should have to 
 walk clear around the road. You wouldn't enjoy 
 that?" 
 
 Lele blushed vividly, and for a moment her sisterly 
 frankness deserted her. Syd noted her hesitation, but 
 misunderstood its cause, and his face clouded as he 
 said: 
 
 " No, Lele, I can't go at all. Maud will find some 
 other escort for you. I couldn't think of having you 
 walk away over there." 
 
 "But, Syd I will I'd rather go with you," 
 stammered Lele. " Stop, Syd," as he was going, " I 
 don't mind walking with you ! " 
 
 " Yes, you do ; and I can't go anyhow. You can
 
 REAI, AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 2O7 
 
 find another escort one who is well enough off to 
 possess a buggy. I'm not ! " 
 
 Maud stopped on her return from issuing the invi- 
 tations to see what had been decided as to Lele's escort, 
 and finding that Syd was not going, she promised to 
 send her brother after Lele. Then Ward was coaxed 
 to "take pity on poor Jen." 
 
 The evening proved propitious for the party, and 
 Lele enjoyed herself very much, though her thoughts 
 kept wandering back to Syd, who was probably sitting 
 alone on the veranda meditating on his poverty-stricken, 
 buggyless condition. 
 
 Ward was the life and soul of the party, and kept 
 everybody in a whirl of gayety during the early part 
 of the evening. Later he developed a propensity for 
 tete-a-tete nonsense that considerably disturbed Maud. 
 With all her clever maneuvering, she could not con- 
 stantly keep him in sight. 
 
 Presently Lele and Ward found themselves the only 
 occupants of the sitting-room, the others having all 
 been attracted to the parlor by Maud's rendering of a 
 song, consisting for the most part of deafening shrieks 
 and trills in not very close imitation of some famous 
 singer she had heard while " off at school." 
 
 " What a relief to have a wall between us and. the 
 prima donna," said Ward, taking out his handkerchief 
 to affect being melted to tears by the musk. With 
 it came a letter that fell on the floor with the address 
 uppermost.
 
 2O8 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 "My letter! " exclaimed Lele, involuntarily snatch- 
 ing-it up. 
 
 It was her application for the school which Ward 
 had forgotten to mail ! And by this time the teachers 
 were all employed ! 
 
 " Oh, Miss Fairfax, how could I have been so care- 
 less as to forget to post your letters?" Ward looked 
 really distressed. " I hope they weren't important." 
 
 " Yes, they were, rather." Lele had lost all her 
 beautiful color, but she tried to conceal her disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " I'll see that they go in the morning mail," pleaded 
 Ward. " It won't delay them but a few days." 
 
 " No, I'll never send them now I should not have 
 delayed writing them so long. After all it would prob- 
 ably have made no difference if they had been sent." 
 And she changed the subject. 
 
 Ward soon began criticising some of Maud's paint- 
 ings. 
 
 " These cows are truly chic," he said. " When the 
 picture was new, Mrs. Hubbard, who is very near- 
 sighted, told Maud one day that she admired her 
 November scene very much. ' But why/ asked Maud, 
 ' do you call it a November scene ?' ' Because,' said 
 Mrs. Hubbard, innocently, ' of the fodder shocks nd 
 pumpkins.' ' Fodder shocks and pumpkins !' says 
 Maud ; ' that's my shepherd dogs driving home the 
 cows !' ' : Ward laughed over this so immoderately that 
 his mirth was infectious. It was simply impossible to 
 avoid helping him a tiny bit in his fun-making, he
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 2CX) 
 
 enjoyed it so thoroughly. In the midst of it all Maud 
 herself appeared on the scene, and Ward's ridicule in- 
 stantly changed to fulsome flattery. When Maud left 
 them, Lele, tired of his nonsense, said reproachfully: 
 
 "How could you praise her falsely?" 
 
 " Oh," he replied, lightly, " Maud lives on flattery. 
 It doesn't pay to be sincere with every one." 
 
 " Doesn't it ?" said Lele, stiffly. 
 
 "A fellow can't always be in dead earnest, Miss 
 Fairfax." 
 
 " One can always be sincere." 
 
 " You can, because you have a charming knack of 
 flattering without telling positive lies. Very few people 
 are so gifted. But when I'm in earnest, I'm as truthful 
 as G. Washington himself." 
 
 " The trouble is to know when you are in earnest," 
 said Lele, with a smile. 
 
 " I'm ahvays in earnest when I'm talking with you," 
 said Ward, struggling to appear grave, but bubbling 
 into laughter. He was- absolutely overflowing with 
 high spirits to-night. Never had he looked so attract- 
 ive or his mischief appeared more excusable. He was 
 a very boy, the happiest alive. As her brother, Lele 
 could have loved him. 
 
 " Had I a heart for falsehood formed, I ne'er could 
 injure thee!" Lele had just quoted derisively, and Ward 
 was leaning over her shoulder, fanning her, and doing 
 his laughing best to convince her that he ivas sincere, 
 when the tete-a-tete was interrupted by the entrance 
 of a group of girls, including Trix and Maud. The 
 
 (14)
 
 210 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 scene his attitude and expression, Lele's arch, smil- 
 ing, listening face would have made up a charming 
 picture had Maud been disinterested enough to enjoy 
 it. As it was, she felt baffled and angry, sorry she had 
 made the party, since it had turned to Lele's advantage 
 instead of hers, as she had anticipated, and glad when 
 the evening was ove/. 
 
 Syd did not spend his evening on the veranda, as 
 Lele supposed, but by his bedroom window, where he 
 sat hour after hour, with his arms folded on the sill, 
 looking moodily out toward St. John's. 
 
 At last he heard the girls come home, and the sound 
 of retreating buggy wheels on the pike. Jean peeped 
 into the room after she came up-stairs, and seeing her 
 brother leaning on the casement with only the starlight 
 for company, she came forward to chide him, as she 
 often did, for sitting in a draught late into the night. 
 He did not appear to hear what she was saying, but 
 began as though she had not spoken: 
 
 " Come here, Jean. I ddn't care to hear about the 
 party, but I may as well tell you right now that I have 
 made up my mind to ask Lele to marry me." 
 
 " Stuff !" said Jennie, shortly. 
 
 " You don't think she would have me, perhaps ?" 
 
 " It would be a mean imposition," said Jennie, 
 slowly. " Lele is far too good for any of us, Syd." 
 
 " Why don't you treat her better, then ?" 
 
 "I can't." The two words seemed fairly 
 wrenched from the lips of the stubborn girl. " If the 
 house were afire, I'd die if it was necessarv to let her
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 211 
 
 get away safe. But I can't forget how I've felt toward 
 
 her all these years, and until then I won't pretend to 
 
 .possess an affection that I do not feel. And I don't 
 
 see how you can think of asking her to marry you." 
 
 " I tell you I am driven to the wall. Her money 
 would make me just what I must be if I ever amount 
 to anything master of this farm, and a man among 
 men on Bethany Ridge." 
 " You might do as well somewhere else." 
 
 " Hampered as I am, I never can do well, unless I 
 can get enough money somehow to give me a start 
 up-hill. Jennie, I never will spend my days as I've 
 been doing, humiliated and powerless. And neither, 
 if I can help it, will I run away. I mean to make my 
 fortune here, and force the people who have despised 
 me in my poverty to respect me for my wealth. I have 
 but one ambition now : to be the richest man on Bethany 
 Ridge." 
 
 " You're going the wrong way to be the happiest 
 man, Syd." 
 
 "Happy! Do I deserve domestic happiness? No, 
 nor I don't expect it. But I must have power. And 
 money is the only thing that will ever give me that." 
 
 " You would be no worse perhaps than other men," 
 mused Jean. 
 
 " Worse ! Ah, Jinsey, that is what hurts. All these 
 years I have tried to be better than the average tried 
 harder than anybody, in the face of temptations of 
 which you know nothing, to build up a good character, 
 thinking that power could exist in that alone. And yet
 
 212 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 my influence is nothing compared with that of the 
 meanest rich man in the community. It never will be 
 anything while I am the penniless wretch I am. A a 
 man is only gauged in this world by what he is worth 
 in money, and that is all I mean to live for after this." 
 
 " Oh, Syd !" The girl's voice was full of pained 
 disapproval. 
 
 " Go to bed, Jenkins, and don't talk to me," Syd 
 replied, in a hard voice. " I've told you now what I'.m 
 going to do and why, but I don't want it ever referred 
 to in the remotest way, whether I am successful or 
 unsuccessful. Mind that." 
 
 She went out, and he heard her cross the hall ; then 
 her door closed, and the echo of her footsteps died 
 away. All was now still in the house save a spider 
 ticking in the corner like a busy watch. The clock 
 struck twelve, and still he sat in the same position, with 
 his chin on his folded arms, his eyes on the cold, bright 
 stars. The wind veered, and came straight in his face 
 like a cold breath ; he was hardly conscious of it. 
 
 A very frenzy of longing to rise and walk shoulder 
 to shoulder with other progressive men had seized him. 
 The discouraged farmer he had been, plodding on year 
 after year with a very insecure shelter over his head, 
 patched clothes, and a horizon no wider than the circle 
 of his own cobbled-up, rotting rail fences must cease 
 to exist. He had been a good, conscientious fellow, 
 but nobody appreciated him. No wonder. He had 
 thought himself a very hero for his self-sacrifice. He 
 had been only a commonplace fool!
 
 AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 
 
 Suddenly a scream rang through the silent house. 
 It came from Lele's room, and Syd, who had rtot yet 
 retired, was instantly in the hall, his heart filled with 
 a nameless fear. As he reached her door, it flew open, 
 and Lele, dressed as at the party, with the faded flowers 
 still in her hair, fell almost fainting into his arms. 
 Syd, glancing in through the open door, saw that the 
 curtains were shaken as if by a wind. 
 
 " My dear girl, what ails you ?" he asked. " You 
 haven't been dreaming?" 
 
 " No, I hadn't retired," said Lele, recovering a little. 
 " I was too miserable to sleep, and while I was think- 
 ing it over " 
 
 " What had made my precious girl miserable ?" Syd 
 asked, involuntarily. 
 
 "Ward had forgotten to mail my letters," Lele 
 replied, with a deep sigh. " While I was thinking 
 what to do next, now my plans for Ed had failed, I 
 looked up, and saw something at the window. I 
 don't know what." 
 
 Syd, through the open door from which a light 
 streamed, had caught sight of something, he didn't 
 know what, either. The window curtains near the 
 door were parted by two long, hairy hands. A face 
 appeared between the drapery that one did not care to 
 glance at a second time. It was a relief to see the 
 curtains settle back in their places, and the thing, what- 
 ever it was, disappear. 
 
 " My God ! Is that the devil ?" thought Syd. 
 
 "Oh, Syd! what, what is it?" gasped the terrified 
 girl.
 
 214 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I don't know, my darling. Is it not enough that 
 you are safe with me?" 
 
 When there is a very strong and yet gentle man 
 standing between you and danger, it is foolish to be 
 afraid, and Lele's fears subsided. 
 
 "Thank, God, you are safe!" he reiterated, in an 
 agitated voice, and he held her in a closer embrace, as 
 if fearing that she might yet become the victim of some 
 supernatural spell. 
 
 The whole family in various stages of dishabille 
 now came running into the hall, Jennie with a lamp 
 in her hand, and with Cora and Tude weeping at her 
 side. Ed rushed by with a revolver, Clem and Charlie 
 at his heels, Syd having explained that a face had been 
 seen at the window. 
 
 " I'll bet it was the suicide's ghost," whimpered 
 Tude, in tones of horror. " Ed says he still walks !" 
 
 " It was the ghost, sure," sobbed Cora. " I don't 
 care if the Collinses do take this place. It's haunted. 
 Boo-hoo !" 
 
 " Cora, be quiet," commanded Syd. " Lele will tell 
 you just what she saw." 
 
 His tone was kind. There were cadences of ten- 
 derness in it that Lele had never heard before. She 
 felt soothed by it, but it was some time before she 
 could relate what she had seen. It was a hideous face, 
 that was all she could tell. 
 
 "A burglar, no doubt ; some tramp, probably," sug- 
 gested Syd. 
 
 " It was nothing human, I am sure," sighed Lele.
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 215 
 
 Ed's revolver was now heard in repeated explosions, 
 and he came back presently to explain that the fellow 
 had escaped by jumping off the roof of the veranda, 
 but that he believed he could catch him yet. Down- 
 stairs he flew, with Clem and Charlie at his heels as 
 before, and there was a tremendous racket of doors 
 slamming, and a chorus of shrieks from the girls to 
 be careful and not kill each other, or run up on him 
 and get shot. 
 
 " Jen, Lele must not be allowed to sleep in that 
 room again ; she's nervous," said Syd. 
 
 " I assure you it was not a case of nerves," declared 
 Lele. 
 
 " Oh, let her sleep in our room," cried Cora and 
 Tude, in a breath. " There's plenty of room." 
 
 " Jennie doesn't want me," said Lele, sadly. 
 
 " Yes, I do. I want you. Oh, Lele, I am sorry 
 I've been so cruel to you when you've been so good. 
 Forgive me, Lele," cried the unhappy but penitent girl, 
 sinking down at Lele's feet, convulsed with sobs. The 
 whole group were startled, impulsive and contradictory 
 as Jennie was known to be, at the intensity of feeling 
 she displayed. 
 
 " Don't, Jennie, dear. It's all right," said Lele, 
 taking the girl into a loving embrace. 
 
 "You never can forgive me, I know ; -I don't deserve 
 it," sobbed Jennie, abandoned to remorse. 
 
 " I do forgive you freely," said Lele, kissing her, 
 and a smile shone through her tears. " I think, after 
 all, my fright has done some good," she said, brightly.
 
 2l6 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " It has made us all more sensible of the ties of kindred, 
 especially Jennie and myself. We shall never again 
 forget that we are sisters, shall we?" 
 
 " Xever again," said the girl, solemnly. She kept 
 her word. From that hour Lele had no truer, more 
 devoted friend than Jennie McKnight. 
 
 Syd, as the four girls disappeared within Jennie's 
 bedroom, turned and offered Ed his hand. He had 
 seen the latter draw the back of his rough hand across 
 his eyes. 
 
 "We'll be better friends, too, Ed, won't we?" he 
 asked, huskily. 
 
 Ed only said, " Well," but he took Syd's proffered 
 hand. 
 
 "You didn't find the burglar?" Syd asked. 
 
 " No, but I saw him jump off the veranda roof. 
 Syd, I could swear he went off on all fours. He looked 
 in the dim light like the very devil." 
 
 Syd made no reply, but he went into all the vacant 
 rooms and fastened the windows down. He thought of 
 " Mimi " and of the murders in the " Rue Morgue," 
 and shuddered. While he was planning to rob Lele 
 of her poor little fortune, she might have perished. 
 
 Long after three of the four girls had grown calm 
 enough to drift into the land of dreams that night, 
 the fourth lay' with her hands clasped over her eyes 
 in dismayed wakefulness. 
 
 " If I haven't fallen in love with Syd, after all !" 
 she thought. "And poor Aunt Roxy's money. Oh,
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 
 
 dear ! I wish she had willed every penny of it to Ed." 
 
 ****** 
 
 Syd returned to his room, but not to sleep. Per- 
 plexing, contradictory visions haunted him until the 
 dawn came to warn him that it was time to begin 
 another day of unremuncrative toil. What was he 
 living for, anyhow? 
 
 He left the house at daybreak and went out to the 
 orchard, where under the bending apple boughs he 
 walked up and down the wagon track, beside whose 
 ruts cockle-burs were beginning to form their seeds, 
 reminding him of the near approach of autumn. The 
 sun was still below the horizon, and dew lay heavy on 
 blade and leaf. When the sun came up there were 
 countless wheels shining like silver in the meadow, the 
 work of busy spiders while he had been weaving his 
 dreams, evanescent as their filmy webs. He brushed 
 one aside with his foot as he emerged from the orchard, 
 and wondered if the heart of the little weaver was as 
 much depressed by the ruin he had wrought as human 
 hearts are when their plans are swept aside by the 
 ruthless hand of Fate. 
 
 He sat dejectedly on the top of the rail fence, won- 
 dering why there seemed to be no honorable chance in 
 this uneven world for him to make a living. Never 
 again, after the revelation of what a blessing the love 
 of a woman like Lele could be to a self-respecting man, 
 could he entertain a thought of getting a start on her 
 money.
 
 2l8 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 How these words, which he had read somewhere 
 while he was plotting to get possession of her little for- 
 tune for his own selfish ends, mocked him now : 
 
 " There is a supreme moment in the life of every 
 man ; a time when he may grasp the opportunity of a 
 lifetime and rise into a successful, prosperous, useful, 
 happy manhood. But the opportunity slighted is lost 
 forever." 
 
 Probably he had lost his opportunity of a lifetime, 
 who knows? Some lives are hampered almost beyond 
 one's power of apprehension ; Syd's was. 
 
 Some men in moods no more hopeless than his have 
 been known to saunter from the rail fence to the barn 
 it is not far pick up a halter, and instead of using it 
 to lead one of the horses to water, employ it for a very 
 different purpose. When, a few hours later, their dead 
 bodies have been cut down, people have wondered how 
 the poor fellows got up the courage to kill themselves. 
 They forget that it sometimes requires far truer courage 
 to live than to die, and leave some heart-broken woman 
 to solve problems of life that have proved too difficult 
 for a man. Only the coward and the deranged slip 
 away in this fashion. Of the latter, God knows there 
 are too many, owing largely to false ideas of what con- 
 stitutes true success ; the already crowded ranks of the 
 former I trust the reader will never join. 
 
 On his way back from the barn, after feeding the 
 horses, Syd found Jennie picking up early apples for 
 breakfast. 
 
 She raised her eyebrows inquiringly and smiled,
 
 REAL AND IMAGINARY HAUNTS. 2IQ 
 
 which he perfectly well knew meant, " Hello, Syd. 
 Let me congratulate you." 
 
 " I am not going to try to do what I said." Syd 
 looked away unsmilingly, and she saw that he was very 
 pale. " I despise myself for knowing that I ever, for 
 a moment, considered a plan so ignoble." 
 
 " He has fallen in love with Lele," thought Jennie.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 "A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE." 
 
 Lele went clown to breakfast too light in heart to 
 be disturbed by even the black -birds, which that morn- 
 ing made the very air quiver with their vibrant notes. 
 Old Heldt and his cur were seen going down the lane 
 with Clem's yellow dog barking after them, and a 
 neighbor's donkey was leaning over the fence busily 
 trimming the damask rose bush by the gate. Still 
 Lele's faith in the " deep-hearted country " was re- 
 viving; she even let herself meditate a little on the 
 before-dreaded possibility of being a farmer's wife who 
 does her own work, or about eighteen hours a day of 
 it, as Jennie was doing. 
 
 " There must be desperate love on both sides, 
 though, before I could take up such a cross as that," 
 she reflected. 
 
 She was no longer disappointed about the school, 
 and though Ward's forgetfulness had destroyed her 
 plans for the winter, she felt content and hopeful. The 
 present just now was sufficient. 
 
 They were all very merry over the despoiled larder, 
 some thief having stolen from the cellar most of the 
 next day's provisions, but no one seemed in the least 
 ill humored because there was nothing scarcely for 
 breakfast. It was the first really pleasant meal she had 
 
 (220)
 
 A DAUGHTER OF Till; HOUSE. 221 
 
 known since she came home; even Mr. Fairfax joked 
 and laughed. But Lele was conscious of a keen feeling 
 of disappointment when Syd went to his work without 
 making any effort at a friendly tete-a-tete. 
 
 It was not until after dinner that she had a chance 
 for more than a passing word with him. They had all 
 been attributing the empty larder to " Lele's tramp " 
 at dinner, and when, a little later, she chanced to meet 
 Syd on the veranda, she said in confidence : 
 
 " I do not think my tramp was a man. But if the 
 rest choose to believe so, they may." 
 
 Syd was silent. 
 
 " In fact, I know that it was not a man," she added. 
 
 " I think myself that it was a gorilla which had per- 
 haps been stolen from some show. It is possible his 
 master was in the cellar while he was at your win- 
 dow," Syd replied. (It turned out that he was right.) 
 " Do you know, Lele, I never can quite forgive Jen for 
 letting you sleep in that room alone?" 
 
 " It's all over now," laughed Lele. " I don't sup- 
 pose she ever dreamed of a gorilla coming at midnight 
 to look through my window." 
 
 Her face clouded over as she added : " You know 
 my plans for next winter, Syd? I sent my letter of 
 application to the postofHce with Ward Collins, and he 
 forgot to mail it. Now I don't know what to do. It 
 is too late, I suppose, to apply for a school here any- 
 where. I have lost the chance I depended upon unless 
 a vacancy should occur, which is very unlikely." 
 
 " It pains me to hear you mention the subject.
 
 222 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Your aunt left you well provided for, and you have no 
 right to burden yourself with the support of any one. 
 You ought not to be here, Lele, where there is so large 
 a demand on your sympathy. It would be far better 
 if you could return at once to your guardian's home." 
 
 " But, Syd, it is my duty to look after Ed. And I 
 couldn't take him into Mr. Carpenter's family, nor any- 
 where, unless I am prepared to meet our expenses." 
 
 " There is no way here for you to meet his expenses. 
 Perhaps your guardian might be able to suggest some- 
 thing. But it clearly won't do for you to remain here 
 until September, as your father evidently wishes." 
 
 " I am sorry you don't want me," said Lele, sensi- 
 tively. 
 
 " It isn't that. But it would be better for you if 
 you could go." 
 
 " I am not considering myself, Syd." 
 
 "Somebody must consider you. It would be unwise 
 to remain here, an involuntary exile from all that should 
 make life a delight to you." 
 
 " There are other things better worth living for 
 than ease and pleasure. God must have some work 
 for me here." 
 
 They were alone together on the veranda walking 
 ;ip and down. Her companion was silent for many 
 minutes. 
 
 " It is folly for any woman to begin a life of need- 
 less self-sacrifice," Syd presently resumed. " I do not 
 see anything that you could gain by remaining here. 
 It is not a thing to be desired to become one of an
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE. 223 
 
 unlucky family. I prefer to think of you as fortunate 
 and happy, though far away. It is right to send you 
 away, even though inhospitable. Harsh as it sounds, 
 I really wish you to go." 
 
 " Then I will go." She turned away hurt and 
 angry. Could this be the lover-like Syd of last night ? 
 
 "And if I do go, Syd McKnight, you must know 
 that we shall most likely never meet again." 
 
 " I think it hardly probable that we shall ever meet 
 again. It would be better so, perhaps." 
 
 " Better so ? Syd McKnight, what ails you ? I 
 thought you were to be a life-long friend." 
 
 " Platonic friendships are all moonshine, Lele." 
 
 A swift, light footstep sounded on the pavement 
 and a gay voice called : 
 
 " Say, people, may I be admitted to the promenade, 
 or is three always a crowd?" 
 
 It was Ward Collins, looking provokingly jolly, as 
 usual. 
 
 " By no means," said Lele, giving him her hand 
 with a gracious smile. " You are particularly wel- 
 come, for we were on the verge of a quarrel." 
 
 " Not with Syd ?" exclaimed Ward, involuntarily. 
 " Then I assure you you need expect no reconciliation. 
 The son of Alchanamook never forgives." 
 
 " I deny that, sir," retorted Syd, holding out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Oh, our friendship is to be resumed, is it?" 
 
 " Is it not enough to square old accounts in the 
 matter of grievances?"
 
 224 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Xot if the books are to be immediately reopened," 
 replied Ward, warmly. " McKnight is a good hater, 
 Miss Fairfax. And I myself a good provocator. I 
 wonder how he ever bore with me so long." 
 
 " I am no longer a fit subject for friendship," Syd 
 replied, sadly. " Indeed, I am not, Ward." 
 
 " He has been trying to convince me also,'' observed 
 Lele. " It seems for some reason my step-brother is 
 prepared to spend the rest of his days without that 
 'sweetener of life and solder of society' friendship." 
 
 " For my part, I could not live without it," cried 
 Ward. 
 
 " ' Rare as is true love, true friendship is still 
 rarer,' " said Syd, laconically. " I believe in neither." 
 
 "What is life without happiness?" Lele asked, 
 ranging herself on Ward's side. "And happiness 
 depends chiefly upon one's friends." 
 
 " Happiness depends chiefly upon one's worldly 
 status," retorted Syd, involuntarily reverting to his 
 thoughts of the previous night. 
 
 " You're mistaken, Syd, It's a question of temper- 
 ament," said Ward. " I could contrive somehow to 
 have a good time if I hadn't a cent in my pocket." 
 
 " Wait till you try playing the role of ' the money- 
 less man,' " Syd replied. " Your good times will take 
 on a different complexion then." 
 
 " I can remember when your views were different, 
 Syd." 
 
 " Time and circumstances strip a fellow of a good 
 manv illusions."
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE. 225 
 
 Clem at that moment came running up the veranda 
 steps. "Dock's wound up in his rope likened to choke," 
 he shouted. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " Lele's packin' her trunk," announced Cora after 
 supper. " Just when we are all gettin' to like her so 
 well, too! And we have so few friends. I'd rather 
 see the sheriff come than see her go/' she added, burst- 
 ing into tears. 
 
 " Why, Code !" Syd tried to speak sternly, but his 
 voice shook. He quitted the room and ran hastily 
 up-stairs. On Lele's door he gave not a " potential " 
 but a deprecatory tap. Lele opened it, and he saw that 
 the room was strewn with garments ready for packing. 
 The girl appeared to have been crying. 
 
 "Really going?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes, Syd." 
 
 " Lele, I won't send you away, but don't you think 
 seriously that it would be for your happiness to go?" 
 
 " No, Syd, I do not." The sweet red lips were 
 tremulous. 
 
 " Then you are not to go." 
 
 " I shall be intruding if I stay." 
 
 " Intruding ! I deserve this for my seeming rude- 
 ness. What I dread for you is the unhappiness, the 
 discomfort of being here at this time. Remember, 
 child, that we may have things to bear that can't be 
 endured with smiling faces. We shall not be able to 
 entertain you as " 
 
 " Entertain ! I shall remain, if at all, as a daughter
 
 226 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 of the house, not as a guest. I am not too weak to 
 share burdens with the rest. Am I not one of you 
 now?" 
 
 " You are one of us, Lele. But, oh ! the lack of 
 worldly wisdom you display in staying here, unless 
 Well it may be you have chosen for your hap- 
 piness after all." He thought of Ward with a jealous 
 pang as he went down-stairs. 
 
 An organ agent was trying to persuade Jennie to 
 let him place an instrument in the house when Syd 
 reached the hall. 
 
 " It's perfectly useless ! " she told him, though the 
 longing for music, with her, was all but intolerable. 
 
 " That's what they all say," replied the agent, 
 briskly. " I reckon it won't crack no bones, will it," 
 he added to Syd, " if I roll this here music box into 
 your parlor for a month or so? Then if you don't 
 want it, I'll take it away without so much as say in' 
 ' Hail Columbia ! ' " 
 
 " It won't crack any bones," said Syd ; " but it will 
 be a bootless errand for you, my good fellow." 
 
 "That's all right," said the agent, "I'll take all 
 resks cheerful ez a man takes his mother-in-law's 
 departure." 
 
 And, feeling confident that Lele would buy it, he 
 left the organ on trial for a month. After this the 
 days fairly flew, for Jennie, who had picked up some 
 knowledge of instrumental music, found in the instru- 
 ment such sweet solace as Saul found in the harp of 
 David. She sang to Lele's accompaniments, too, and
 
 A DAUGHTER OI? THE HOUSE. 227 
 
 in turn Lele took a hand in the housework that the 
 tasks might sooner be completed. At the conclusion 
 of the week even Jennie would not consent to Lele's 
 departure. Mr. Fairfax declared that Lele should cer- 
 tainly remain a month ; the children demanded that she 
 should stay always, and even Syd offered no further 
 advice as to the advisability of her going. She was 
 one of the family now in heart and soul. Even the 
 live stock were made to offer her, in their dumb way, 
 the freedom of the farm. 
 
 One morning Lele .was called out into the lane to 
 see what Charlie called " the dearest little cow that 
 ever walked on four legs." 
 
 There stood Syd with his arm resting on the neck 
 of a beautiful Jersey heifer. He was smiling, his 
 eyes luminous with that pride which every farmer takes 
 in well-groomed stock. It was many a day before she 
 saw that light in his eyes again. 
 
 " Isn't she a beauty ?" he asked. 
 
 "A perfect darling! " cried Lele. " The very pret- 
 tiest cow I've seen since I've been in Pennsylvania. Is 
 she a new acquisition ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! We raised her. She's been in the far 
 pasture ever since you came. But since you are really 
 to be one of us, I want you to know the pet and play- 
 thing of the whole establishment. So I will give you 
 an introduction to the Lady Rose." 
 
 " I wish I could paint her picture," said Lele, pat- 
 ting the glossy neck of Lady Rose. 
 
 " I wish you could, for I don't think there is a
 
 228 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 more perfect animal in the State. She's about the only 
 thing of value that I own. I wouldn't take a hun- 
 dred dollars for her, bad as I need money. In fact, 
 I'd pawn my hat and boots before I'd give up Rose. 
 She's part of the family." 
 
 " Old Si wants her," said Clem. 
 
 " Yes, he sees her good points. He offered me 
 forty dollars for her this morning, and that shows that 
 he considers her worth sixty." 
 
 Jennie and all the children gathered around, and 
 Lady Rose received quite an ovation, which she 
 acknowledged by licking salt from their hands, and 
 looking from one to another with her soft, kind eyes 
 as if in greeting. City-bred as she was, Lele found 
 their affection for the little Jersey quite infectious. 
 Yet there was something pathetic about this tenderness 
 shown to a dumb brute. And when she saw Syd lead- 
 ing his little pet down the lane by one horn she felt 
 vaguely sorry for him. Poor Syd ! to have worked so 
 hard all these years, and now to possess but this one bit 
 of property. It was not much of a start for Syd, ambi- 
 tious as he was. But, like the farmer's boy, who 
 started to college with only a cow for capital, and grad- 
 ually attained fame in the educational world, might not 
 Syd's cow lay the foundation for his fortune, as a 
 fanner? Lele hoped so. She could not bear to con- 
 template the possibility of anything happening to Rose. 
 
 " Rose is a beaut now to what she was when I 
 first saw her," said Charlie, watching the retreating 
 forms of Syd and his pet -with kindling eyes. " 'Mem-
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE. 
 
 ber, Jen, when we looked out that awful cold fifth of 
 January, and saw Syd carry in' a little scrawny calf 
 in his arms to the house to keep it from freezin'. I 
 wouldn't have given that for her chances then?" he 
 added, snapping his fingers. 
 
 " Father wouldn't either, or he'd never have sold 
 her to Syd for fifty cents," Clem added. " Lucky 
 Syd paid for her, or pap would have traded her off 
 long ago." 
 
 Syd's face wore a troubled look when he came to 
 dinner that day. 
 
 " Rose is sick," he said. " I don't know what ails 
 her, but I do believe she's going to die." 
 
 Jennie's face blanched. She said nothing, but Lele 
 observed that she ate no dinner. The meal was hur- 
 ried through almost in silence, and immediately after- 
 ward the whole family, except Mr. Fairfax, who had 
 a visitor to entertain, went down to the pasture, where 
 the beautiful little Jersey lay sick. Al kinds of medical 
 aid were summoned, but all to no purpose. When 
 Lele went out next day to meet Syd in the cold dawn 
 of a cloudy morning (he had camped in the pasture 
 and kept vigil with his little favorite) he looked like 
 a man bereaved of a friend. Her heart cried out with 
 sympathy, but her lips could not form a syllable. 
 
 "Rose is dead." 
 
 vSyd uttered the words slowly. He looked haggard 
 and hollow-eyed. He felt as a man feels when he has 
 lost at one blow his last piece of property and some- 
 thing he had loved. Lele burst into tears. She hnd
 
 23O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 so longed for him to escape this trial. It was pitiable 
 to possess so little that a loss like this could so affect a 
 strong young fellow like Syd. 
 
 " It's no use making a fuss over a cow," Syd said, 
 presently. " Most people wouldn't care a great deal 
 for a thing like this, but it takes the heart all out 
 of me, Lele." 
 
 " It's no wonder," said Lele, in tears. " I know 
 just how you feel. Think of dragging off that beau- 
 tiful little creature and dumping her into a hollow, as 
 I saw Mr. Heldt do one of his cows." 
 
 " I couldn't do that. She died some time after 
 midnight, and I dug a hole right there and buried her. 
 Ed helped me. There's nothing half so hard for me 
 to do as to hitch up a sled and drag off the body of 
 an animal." 
 
 He swept his shirt sleeve over his eyes. " You'd 
 think me a fool, Lele, if you knew how many times 
 I've tramped to that far pasture just to see if Rose was 
 safe. I've gone there sometimes after dark because 
 I imagined something had happened to her. She was 
 the only thing in the world that I could call my own." 
 
 " I never was so sorry for anything," sobbed Lele. 
 " Oh, Syd, how can you go on with this hateful farm- 
 ing? There's more heartbreak in it than I ever imag- 
 ined." 
 
 " I don't suppose it has any more drawbacks than 
 other occupations," Syd replied, patiently. " It is, of 
 course, foolish to get attached to dumb brutes as I 
 did to Rose, but somehow a farmer can't help it. All
 
 A DAUGHTER Ol> THIS HOUSE. 231 
 
 kinds of live stock are so dependent upon you, that 
 you can't help feeling a sort of tenderness for them; 
 and it makes losing them in this way doubly hard. 
 Rose's death will cast a gloom over our entire house- 
 hold. We all know it seems a silly piece of sentiment, 
 and yet we can't help feeling bad. One reason I buried 
 her so soon was that I don't want the children down in 
 the pasture crying over her. Tell Jennie, will you, 
 Lele ? I'd rather not." 
 
 That day was one to be remembered. Lele won- 
 dered, when she laid her head on her pillow that night, 
 if her death would ever cause so many tears to flow 
 as had the death of the gentle little Jersey cow. Even 
 Charlie showed little relish for his supper. 
 
 " I feel so fightin' mad, Lele," he said, " to think 
 we can't have anything nice like other people without 
 losin' it, that I don't know what to do. No wonder 
 Jinks feels stormy in her old alpaca. I feel like a 
 cyclone, to-night, myself. I wish you could have seen 
 old Si stickin' his nose over the fence this afternoon. 
 ' Hi, Syd, better took that forty dollars I offered you 
 fer yer cow. Forty dollars is a long sight better'n 
 a dead cow.' If I could turn to a twister, an' blow 
 Si's ole spotted cows to ribbons, it would just do me 
 good." 
 
 Several weeks passed so rapidly that Lele had 
 scarcely a moment to think and plan as she had 
 expected. Though she had frequent talks with her 
 father about Ed, she was as far as ever from forming
 
 232 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 any plan that could benefit Ed or any member of the 
 family. She had, however, given up her trip west 
 with the Carpenters, and was undecided just how and 
 where she was to spend the winter. In that respect 
 the rest of the family were, alas ! as much at sea as her- 
 self. The mortgage might be foreclosed any day and 
 the whole household broken up. All was in a painful 
 state of uncertainty when you came to think of it, and 
 yet what with Ward calling so often and bringing so 
 many of the young people of the Ridge with him, the 
 old house took on an air of liveliness unknown to it 
 for years. Even Cora had become a social factor, with 
 the gray cashmere and India linen lengthened becom- 
 ingly by Lele's deft fingers, and a new hat (made 
 for her, also by Lele, out of old material), that was 
 declared, even by such a severe critic as Charlie, to be 
 a " duck." Ol Stuart (who had suddenly emerged 
 from jackets into a Prince Albert of fabulous length) 
 vacillated between Fairfax Farm and " The Cedars," as 
 Sue Hubbard proudly denominated her home. 
 
 " Sue does well enough to go with at a pinch," the 
 faithless Ol would tell Cora one evening, and the next 
 would inform Sue that " Code was well enough to 
 pass away the time with when a fellow couldn't do 
 better," which induced the girls, when they compared 
 confidences, to mutually agree that " Ol was a perfect 
 stick don't you know but when fellows were so 
 scarce it wouldn't do to give him the shake complete." 
 
 These young things were too immature in feeling
 
 A DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE;. 233 
 
 to take life and love seriously, and they really got 
 quite a good deal of pleasure out of the latter part of 
 that memorable summer. There were older hearts, 
 however, that ached through it all, though the ache 
 was masked under a very calm exterior.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 AN UNWILUN' BARKIS. 
 
 There was a " festival " at Bethany Church, and 
 the band was playing. The aisles were full of gay 
 promenaders, and the elderly people and "wall flowers" 
 sat in the pews gossiping, while outside, in a maze of 
 Chinese lanterns, ice-cream and other refreshments 
 were being served from tables clustered around a gayly 
 decorated stand. 
 
 Jennie had a table upon which she waited with 
 rather a listless air. Maud and Trixie and most of the 
 other girls had early found substitutes and joined in 
 the promenade an indecorous, waltz-like affair at 
 which Mrs. Stuart and other " pillars " winked for 
 the sake of worldly gain. All the young people liked 
 to come to Bethany festivals, since there was a band 
 and promenading. They bought liberally, and the 
 church debt dwindled. Mrs. Stuart, with her cake- 
 knife in hand, seemed resolved to cut it in twain. 
 Mrs. Stuart always cut the cakes. She had a repu- 
 tation for making more slices and fewer crumbs than 
 any other lady in the congregation. 
 
 Jen looked haughty and unapproachable. No one 
 would have supposed from her manner that she cared 
 for the promenade or would have thought it otherwise 
 than wicked. She had expressed such sentiments in 
 
 (234)
 
 AX UNVVILUN BARKIS. 235, 
 
 the hearing of more than one young man and at least 
 one elderly one Mr. Markley, a fat sheep-raiser of 
 sixty, who had annoyed her by hanging around her 
 table all evening, " keeping trade away," as Maud had 
 maliciously whispered. He had little, pale eyes sunk 
 like beads in a mask of dough. His fat face was 
 florid, his head bald, his nose broken, and his tuft of 
 chin whiskers made him look, as Charlie said, " like a 
 Billy-goat." 
 
 "Hi, Miz' Billy," that incorrigible youth would 
 whisper every time he went by, his mouth stuffed with 
 peanuts. 
 
 Now, after a very short promenade with a widow 
 not much to his fancy, came this broken-nosed and 
 bald-pated admirer back like a bad penny. No one, it 
 seemed, had any use for him. The girls dodged him 
 as cleverly as though engaged in a game of " blind 
 man's buff." He seemed, however, determined to 
 make himself attractive to the fair sex. Had he not 
 worn a stiff collar at the risk of severing a jugular 
 in the vain hope of appearing youthful? Attentive to 
 the ladies he would be in spite of rebuffs ; but to none 
 was he so persistently devoted as to Jean McKnight. 
 People who had no great regard for appearances said 
 " it would be a good match for Jen." 
 
 " Miss Jennie, you look paler and paler every time 
 I come around," he said, on his third round. "Do 
 leave this here stupid table a spell. All the other gds 
 is gone." 
 
 " I'm not tired, thank you," said Jennie, haughtily ;
 
 236 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " and I'd rather be here than in that crowded church." 
 
 " 'Tis right down pleasant out here," said Mr. 
 Markley, seating himself on one of her chairs. " Bring 
 two sassers of cream, Jinny, an' less hev a snack.'' 
 
 Jen's eyes rained lightning upon him, but he was 
 too absorbed to notice. To be exact, his collar was 
 so tight that he could not have turned his head the 
 fraction of an inch if he had tried. He wondered if 
 there was room inside his throat for ice-cream to go 
 down. 
 
 Ward and Lele came laughingly down the church 
 steps and seated themselves opposite Mr. Markley. 
 Ward beckoned to Jen and whispered in her ear when 
 she came: 
 
 " Bring three dishes, Jinsey, and promenade with 
 me afterwards, won't you? Miss Fairfax is going to 
 take charge of your table." 
 
 Jen brought the three dishes and sat by Ward, not 
 even glancing at the discomfited widower, who swal- 
 lowed half his cream, refused cake, and hurried from 
 the table, purple and panting. 
 
 " What is the matter with him ? " asked Ward 
 " He seems on the verge of apoplexy." 
 
 " I fear I offended him," said Jennie, whose cheeks 
 now were scarlet. " Please don't mention him, Ward. 
 He has made the whole evening hideous for me." 
 
 " Sorry I didn't know it sooner," Ward glanced 
 twice at her with kindling admiration. Lele was con- 
 versing with Trix and Morris, who had just sat clown. 
 " I feel sorry for him. But it's a f?.ct ; he's too old
 
 AN UNWIUJN BARKIS. 237 
 
 for you, Jinsey. ' There is no fooling with life after 
 you are turned forty.' ' : 
 
 " It would be all one to me if he were turned 
 eighty." 
 
 " 'Oh, woman, in your hours of ease, 
 Uncertain, coy and hard to please ! ' " 
 
 quoted Ward, maliciously. 
 
 " Who could be pleased with Mr. Markley ?" 
 
 " The world, my dear Jinsey, considers Mr. Mark- 
 ley an attractive man. He has solid qualifications." 
 
 " Probably that is why he is so heavy," retorted 
 Jean. 
 
 " I never thought he had mudi wit," Ward resumed, 
 " but when I heard that he had selected you for Num- 
 ber 2, in his series of wives or is it 3 ? he was 
 appreciated in his younger days, I could hot deny 
 that his judgment was fine." 
 
 " Really ? " Jean glanced up a moment later and 
 beheld the widower's eyes gleaming mournfully out 
 of the gloom beyond the row of lanterns. 
 
 " Look at his eyes ! " whispered Ward, " and his 
 tongue is hanging out. Jean, I tell you he's choking." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " 
 
 "He is! That collar of his is two sizes too small. 
 I bid for his epitaph : ' He had been a kind husband, 
 was an indulgent father, and at the time of his demise, 
 a devoted lover.' " 
 
 " How very clever you are ! " said Jean. 
 
 The three arose, and Lele began to invest herself 
 in Jennie's cap and apron. Ward said:
 
 238 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You should not make yourself so pretty, Miss 
 Fairfax, or you will have all the trade at your table 
 and be overworked. Worst of all," he added, anx- 
 iously, " you will attract Mr. Markley." 
 
 " If you should," said Jennie, relentingly, " try to 
 condone my offense." 
 
 " I will," said Lele, absently. She was not think- 
 ing of Mr. Markley. 
 
 " Markley goes with this table," said Ward. " It's 
 like buying a hoodooed house the ghost goes 
 with it." 
 
 Lele's cheeks suddenly flushed at the mention of the 
 word " ghost." At the same time she caught sight 
 of Syd and Maud St. John sitting in a buggy on the 
 other side of the stand. They appeared to be talking 
 over, perhaps making up, old differences. Lele had 
 been with Ward almost the entire evening, though 
 involuntarily her eyes had been busy, in search of Syd, 
 whom she had never once seen. She knew he was 
 present, and had been wondering where he kept him- 
 self. Now she knew. He had been sitting in that 
 buggy all evening with Maud! 
 
 Jen wore a thin, white dress and black velvet gir- 
 dle, which Lele had contrived for her, and in which 
 she looked well. The girl's face, like her brother's, 
 depended mainly upon its expression for its beauty. 
 When she passed Mr. Markley on Ward's arm, the 
 former scarcely recognized her. 
 
 " Darned ef she ain't good lookin' ! " he thought, 
 staring after her. " 'Tain't much good, though, her
 
 AN UNWIUJN BARKIS. 239 
 
 black eyes '11 ever do me. She's sot ag'in me ; that's 
 plain ez envy. Wonder ef her step-sister wouldn't 
 make a purty good step-mother fer my boys. No harm 
 in askin' her. She can't mor'n say ' No.' She's real 
 good-natured-lookin', an' they say she's got money, 
 too. B'lieve I'll try my luck, bein' as I've got on this 
 collar. The darned thing was too much trouble to put 
 on fer nothin'." 
 
 Lele was too tender-hearted to see any one suffer, 
 and when Mr. Markley came up she greeted him very 
 kindly, ate ice-cream with him, and tried in every way 
 to make him forget Jen's cruelty. He rewarded her 
 by making her a present of a huge pound-cake frosted 
 all over with gum-drops the largest one obtainable 
 and the most thickly becandied. In the face of such 
 unexpected generosity, how could Lele refuse when he 
 asked the pleasure of seeing her home? It was Lele 
 who looked pale when Ward and Jennie returned. 
 
 " You don't say he's been here ever since we left ? " 
 asked Jennie, with horror. 
 
 " Ever since." Lele drew a sigh of fatigue. 
 
 " This table is hoodooed," declared Ward, aside to 
 the girls. " Suppose we all desert it. There's Alice 
 Stuart just dying for some good work. Give her a 
 chance. It may be the means of marrying her off." 
 
 Alice took charge with gentle dignity. She was 
 never a sprightly girl, but to-night she was a shade 
 quieter than usual. Keith had not once spoken to 
 her. 
 
 "What ails Keith to-night, Alice?" Ward asked.
 
 240 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " When I saw him a while ago he looked like a young 
 thunder-cloud." 
 
 " I didn't notice," said Alice, placidly, and devoutly 
 prayed forgiveness for the fib. v She brought a dish of 
 ice-cream with two spoons in it for a gawky youth and 
 his ogle-eyed sweetheart, which sent Ward off half 
 suffocated with suppressed laughter. He ran head- 
 long into a group of young people who were discussing 
 something very earnestly. 
 
 " I haven't known him speak to her for six months," 
 said one. " Thought they had quit for good." 
 
 " Sh ! " whispered another, as Ward and the girls 
 joined them. 
 
 " Oh, it's a caucus, is it ? " said Ward. " Beg 
 pardon." 
 
 " It's a caucus," said Ol Stuart, " but we're ad- 
 journed." 
 
 " That means you were discussing me," wailed 
 the irrepressible Ward. " Boo-hoo ! What have I 
 done?" 
 
 Everybody laughed, and amid a chorus of protests 
 there was a general movement toward the candy stand. 
 
 The band wound up " Creole Belles " with a 
 flourish, marched down the aisle, packed their instru- 
 ments in the band wagon, and sat down to their third 
 free lunch of cake and ice-cream in the flare of the 
 torches before the old stone church. Keith Hubbard 
 lurked in the shadows glowering at Syd, who still 
 talked with Maud.
 
 AN UNWIUJN BARKIS. 24! 
 
 Buggies began to roll away. Whole families bun- 
 dled themselves into wagons and spring-wagons, 
 crowding in " Georgie 'millons " and empty freezers. 
 The cake auction began, and the remnant of the crowd 
 pressed open-mouthed about the stand. 
 
 Mr. Markley stood at the auctioneer's elbow hold- 
 ing Lele's cake. She had rashly promised to ride 
 home in his buggy. Ward stood directly behind Lek 
 and whispered in her ear some request which she 
 refused in pantomime ; he bit his lip in vexation and 
 devoted himself to Jennie. 
 
 Several frosted cakes were bid off at a low figure, 
 A large cake, with a bouquet in the center, plentifully 
 bestuck with candy hearts and red drops, was held up 
 on a large stem glass cake stand. It had a border of 
 tissue paper cut in fancy patterns. To top all, a knot 
 of blue satin ribbon adorned the stem of the stand. A 
 murmur of admiration greeted it. 
 
 " This cake," shouted the auctioneer, " was made by 
 Miss Maud St. John. Boys, there's not a sweeter cako 
 in the whole collection. It cost seventy cents. Do I 
 hear a bid on this lovely cake ? " 
 
 " Eighty cents ! " cried Ward. 
 
 " Eighty cents is bid. Who will raise it ? Remem- 
 ber, it's for the widows an' orphans. Bill Markley 
 over here is the widow, and Fin the orphan. We 
 need it." 
 
 Amid a roar of laughter Keith Hubbard was heard 
 bidding defiantly, " Ninety cents." 
 
 (16)
 
 242 - THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Ninety cents for the finest cake ever sold at a 
 fete, worth one dollar and a quarter. Ninety-five, do 
 I hear it?" 
 
 " One dollar," shouted Ol Stuart, with reckless dis- 
 regard to his mother's shaking head. The crowd at 
 this woke up and fairly bid itself hoarse. Every young 
 man in the neighborhood seemed to want Maud's cake. 
 It was finally knocked off to Keith Hubbard, who took 
 particular pains to let Maud see that he was the buyer. 
 
 " Crackee ! But I'm glad Keith got it instead of 
 me," Ward whispered to Jennie. (He inherited his 
 father's fondness for good bargains.) '' Maud's cakes 
 are like herself all the sweetness is on the surface. 
 I know 'em ! " 
 
 Mr. Markley shifted uneasily from one foot to the 
 other, thankful he had bought Lele's cake earlier in the 
 evening. With his neck in such a fix he felt that bid- 
 ding would have been dangerous work. Besides, he 
 had still some fears that Lele would give him the slip 
 and go home in Ward's buggy. He wished a thunder- 
 storm would come up and scatter the crowd. But the 
 stars never shone clearer. 
 
 " Lele, give him the shake," whispered Jennie. 
 " Your -sympathy is carrying you too far." 
 
 " I don't care if it is," said Lele. She had just seen 
 Syd escort Maud to her father's carriage. 
 
 Suddenly there was a commotion in the back part 
 of the crowd. One of Maud's rejected suitors, who 
 was usually tipsy at festivals, having failed to get the 
 coveted cake, had vowed vengeance. As Keith passed
 
 AN UNVVILrLIN BARKIS. 243 
 
 him with his hard-won trophy, that fortunate and yet 
 luckless (since Maud had ignored him all evening) 
 gentleman received a staggering blow between the 
 shoulders. He turned and struck back. The cake 
 slipped from its newspaper wrapping to the ground, 
 and Keith's assailant sprang upon it with both feet. 
 
 " If I can't have Maud's cake, no other fellow 
 shall," he shouted, and in less time than it takes to tell 
 it he had executed a clog dance upon it with destructive 
 results. Keith rushed furiously to the rescue, but too 
 late. All that remained was a mass of crumbs, shat- 
 tered icing and broken hearts. Red drops strewed the 
 grass on every side like drops of blood. 
 
 Keith had never made a fighting reputation, but 
 the experiences of the evening, culminating in such 
 unlooked-for disaster, had keyed him up to attempt 
 acts of desperation. He closed with the destroyer of 
 so much sweetness, and they went down together, 
 crushing to atoms what was left of th? cake. When 
 peace officers had separated them and borne the unsuc- 
 cessful bidder from the field, Keith, mortified as well 
 as enraged, was only too glad to shake the sticky red 
 drops from his hair and make his escape. Ward was 
 so convulsed with laughter that he could offer but little 
 consolation. 
 
 " That's a bad one on Hubby," he said. " I never 
 knew the dear old man to be so thoroughly picked uh. 
 It was bad enough for me to do." 
 
 Ward took Jennie home, and shortly afterward Lele 
 arrived with her cake and a wilted bouquet, principally
 
 244 T HE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 marigolds, which the widower had bidden off for her 
 at an extravagant figure. 
 
 " Poor child ! " said Jennie, when the two girls were 
 alone together in the dining-room, " you deserve a 
 crown for your goodness to me to-night. I'll never 
 leave him on your hands again." 
 
 " Do you care for him, Jinsey ?" 
 
 " Not a straw !" 
 
 " I am so glad, Jennie. I thought at first you had 
 broken his heart, he seemed so dejected. I did what 
 I could to console him, for I truly pity any man who 
 is despised by the woman he loves." 
 
 " Yes, and " 
 
 " He invited me to take the place of Mrs. Markley, 
 No. i." 
 
 " Lele !" 
 
 " He really did. He as good as admitted that he 
 preferred you, but as he could not get you, he would 
 take me." 
 
 "And was Barkis willin'?" 
 
 " Barkis was not. Barkis declined the honor." 
 
 They heard the front door open. Syd ran lightly 
 up the stairs and his door closed with a slight bang. 
 He went across to the window and began whistling 
 softly. A bar or two of " Creole Belles " was wafted 
 downward. 
 
 Lele turned her face away from the light. 
 
 " Maud has in some way regained her old power 
 over him," she thought.
 
 AN UNWIUJN BARKIS. 245 
 
 But Maud, far from having regained her old power 
 over Syd, was at that very moment saying peevishly 
 to Kitty: 
 
 " Such a beastly stupid evening as I've had, after 
 all ! I could not even have the pleasure of getting any 
 fun out of Syd McKnight, though I did my level best." 
 
 " Why, Maud !" exclaimed the guileless Kitty. " I 
 thought Syd was all devotion. Things looked that 
 way." 
 
 " Devotion !" Maud echoed, as she began nervously 
 to twist her blond tresses up on kid curlers. " He read 
 me such a lecture on coquetry as I shall not soon forget, 
 I promise you. Said he'd been wanting to have a talk 
 with me for ever so long. And such a talk! It beat 
 all the sermons I ever heard." 
 
 " Did he bring you around to his view ? Or, rather, 
 did you succeed in making him forget the interview on 
 the hill the other Sunday?" 
 
 " I should think not. I see clearly that I've lost 
 my last scrap of power over the hateful fellow. And 
 it's just too provoking, for there are times when I 
 could play him off against the others to pretty good 
 advantage, poor as he is." 
 
 " Yes, the effect upon Keith and several others 
 this evening was all that could be desired," laughed 
 Kitty. " But I wouldn't have wasted a whole evening 
 on old Syd. He'll be in the market for some time yet." 
 
 " In the market yes. I doubt if he ever marries, 
 judging by the way he talked this evening. But after
 
 246 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 the way he spoke I can never count on him again. 
 Well his eloquence rather fascinated me," she added, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " He's sharp as a tack," said Kitty. 
 
 " Sharp ! He's the only fellow on Bethany Ridge 
 endowed with brains," said Maud, walking about nerv- 
 ously. " I half wish yet that I'd never let him get 
 beyond my reach. But he's gone, now, past recall."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 
 
 It was the first of August, and the air seemed full of 
 fiery arrows. The brown meadows shimmered under 
 a cloudless sky, and cloudless it had been now for 
 weeks. The brooks were all dried up, the ponds empty, 
 and crops dying. It was the most severe drought in 
 years. 
 
 Syd went about looking absorbed and absent- 
 minded. He had formed another plan, which was 
 slowly consuming to ashes under the influence of this 
 pitiless sun. The drought was so severe now that he 
 could do but little except repair fences, and he was at 
 that work this evening when Si Collins, with his old 
 brownish straw hat curled up at the ears and his cob 
 pipe stuck between his yellow teeth, came up with a 
 hoe over his shoulder. 
 
 " Hello, Syd !" jocularly. " Got the interest money 
 about all collected yet?" 
 
 "About," said Syd, laconically. The very sight of 
 his neighbor's hard, shrewd face made him heart sick. 
 
 " Not much show for a crop this year, especially 
 for late corn and tobacker," Collins went on between 
 puffs. " Mine's early and part of it new ground. I'll 
 have a pretty fair crop if it don't rain; but that old, 
 
 (247)
 
 248 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 late-set tobacco of yours won't be worth cuttin'. How's 
 your potatoes ?" 
 
 " Pretty fair, but not so good as I expected. What 
 will you give for them on the mortgage ?" 
 
 " Nothin' ! They're sunburnt. Wouldn't have 'em 
 at any price. You ought to see mine. I dug 'em an' 
 marketed 'em last week ; brought me seventy-five cents 
 a bushel. The market will be glutted before you get 
 yours in. Ought to have dug 'em a couple of weeks 
 ago." 
 
 " I haven't had time." Syd felt tempted to brain 
 his tormentor with the broken fence-rail he had in his 
 hand. " If I hadn't so much blamed fence fixin' to do 
 I should get along faster," he added, in an angry tone. 
 
 " You haven't a sound rail on the place, have you ?" 
 squinting at the various heaps of brush and rails that 
 did duty for fences. " You ought to see mine. I've 
 got a dandy lot of rails made a-purpose to use on 
 well, the next farm I buy." And filling his old cob 
 pipe, he blew a puff of smoke in Syd's face, as though 
 to add injury to insult. 
 
 " You mean this one, I suppose." Syd was boiling 
 now with suppressed rage. 
 
 " You ought to be glad to get it off your hands. I 
 declare, the work you do here is breaking you down 
 faster than any young man I know. You'll be white- 
 headed before you're forty at the rate you've been 
 going." 
 
 "A mortgage is a good thing to sprout gray hairs." 
 Syd had already found a few. He wondered if they
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 249 
 
 were so noticeable as to attract attention. Attributing 
 them all to Si Collins, he half formed a resolution to 
 revenge himself upon his neighbor Eugene-Aram fash- 
 ion. He wondered how long it would take detectives 
 to discover Si's pestiferous body in the dark recesses 
 of the thicket beyond the fence. 
 
 Si, utterly unconscious of his danger, socked his 
 hoe down on a clod and waxed confidential. 
 
 " Tell you what, Syd," he said, after a few puffs at 
 his old cob pipe, " this here implement that I've got 
 in my hand ain't no bad pick to dig gold out of a farm." 
 
 " It has been for me," said Syd, glancing bitterly at 
 the hoe. 
 
 " Yes, an' precious bad fer that ole step-dad o' 
 yours, too. Some men never learn how to get the 
 upper hand of a hoe. Now there's Ome Fairfax. I 
 c'n remember when he rode in his kerridge, and I 
 hadn't so much ez a plug to pull in a plough. But in 
 them days I could waltz all round Ome with a hoe, 
 an' can yet, for that matter. I never saw the day when 
 Ome could hoe a row with me, never ! Used to be too 
 stuck up, an' now he actilly couldn't clean out a truck 
 patch if his life depended on it. He hung his hoe on 
 an apple tree to rust, but I kep' a lickin' in with mine 
 till I hoed an independent fortune out of the dirt." 
 
 "With your father-in-law's help," said Syd, drily 
 
 " Old Man Ward never really helped me much, 
 Syd. I'd have stuck in the mud shore if it hadn't been 
 for this friendly ole hoe. When I die, I'm a goin' to 
 leave directions to have a hoe cut in my monument."
 
 25O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " If I were set to carve the design, you'd get a 
 bunch of bristles," said Syd, sotto voce. 
 
 " I've often thought," Si went on seriously, " of 
 havin' a wheat shock cut in the marble, but I believe 
 I like the hoe best. I've dug out a pile o' tobacker 
 money with a hoe in my time, Syd." 
 
 " I wish I could say as much." 
 
 " Tears like your luck don't run that way. Tell 
 you what I'd do, Syd, just give up an' let me foreclose 
 in September. Branch off for yourself, boy, an' let the 
 ole man root, hog, or die. The way things look now, 
 Ward'll be likely to give your step-sister a home on the 
 ole place. If I get it, I mean to make it over to Ward, 
 give him rails an' pickets enough to rebuild the fences, 
 an' let him git a livin' out of it if he can. There's good 
 dirt here, if 'twas farmed right." 
 
 Syd would have given much if Mr. Collins could 
 at that moment have been transformed into a rattle- 
 snake, he did so long to have the pleasure of beating 
 the life out of him. 
 
 " When are they to be married ?" he asked, as coolly 
 as though he only wanted to know the price of oats. 
 In fact, every nerve was unstrung and every drop of 
 blood tingling. Fighting would have been far more 
 to his taste just then than fence building ; but Syd, 
 with all his strength and temper, had never cared for 
 pugilistic fame. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. I suppose you are better posted 
 about W T ard's affairs than I am ; you used to be. She's 
 a good lookin' girl, an' will have a tidy bit o' property
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 251 
 
 of her own, I hear, when she marries. I wonder you 
 didn't set your cap for her yourself, Syd. You might 
 have bought in the place with her money, you know." 
 
 Si was treading on thin ice, but unconsciously. He 
 blew another whiff of smoke into Syd's face. The 
 young man wondered where his tormentor got his 
 tobacco. It seemed to have been culled from the worst 
 trash that Bethany Ridge could raise. 
 
 "Hell hath no odor like an old cob pipe," he thought. 
 " That's one solace he'll have down there his pipe." 
 
 " You might have made good use of Lele's money," 
 persisted Si. 
 
 " True, I might." Syd's tone was repellant. He 
 could not imagine anything harder than to control his 
 furiously rising temper, but he kept cool. 
 
 " Rich girls ain't to be picked off every bush, Syd." 
 
 " Is it easier to love a rich girl than a poor one ?" 
 
 " Yes, siree ! a darned sight easier ! It's elevatin', 
 too. I wouldn't have my present influence in the com- 
 munity if I had married somebody's hired girl, or 
 stayed single as you're doin'." 
 
 " Judge Ward never forgave you for running away 
 with his daughter, did he?" Syd's tone was full of 
 repressed contempt. 
 
 " Not exactly. But he did a good part by her, all 
 the same, and left all his money to my children when 
 he died." Si moved away a few steps, and then looked 
 back. "Oh, how's your shoats gettin' along?" 
 
 " Tolerably well." 
 
 "Only tolerable? You ought to sec mine. They
 
 252 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 are fine, I tell you. Make whackin' big hogs by 
 November." 
 
 " Yes, I've seen them quite frequently." Syd felt 
 that the last feather had been added. " They picked 
 up most of their living in our crops, and I intend to 
 shoot the very next one that sticks his nose through the 
 fence." 
 
 " Come, now, Syd, keep cool," said Mr. Collins, in 
 a bantering tone. " Remember whose part of the fence 
 they get through." 
 
 " What the dicks do I care whose part of the fence 
 they get through? I've been driven fairly mad with 
 your stock, and I'm going to put a stop to it if I have 
 to make fertilizer of every confounded hoof on your 
 farm." 
 
 " Better not. You'll have a lawsuit on your hands 
 if you try it. Don't s'pose I could make anything off, 
 of you, though. ' Sue a beggar an' git a louse,' you 
 know." 
 
 " Beggar !" Syd was by this time livid with rage. 
 " Si Collins, if you don't get off this farm, I'll kick you 
 off, if you are an old man. I've stood all I'm going to 
 from you. And, mind you, don't you or a hoof of 
 yours, man or beast, cross the line fence again." 
 
 "All right. We'll stay away until after the middle 
 of September," said Si, pocketing his empty pipe. 
 " Then I and my stock will come to stay, and you an' 
 yours will make tracks fer the last time. I won't give 
 you a day to pack," and with a parting oath he hurried 
 away.
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 253 
 
 Syd stood still in one of his white rages, and 
 watched him out of sight. Then he went on with his 
 work. 
 
 " I'll raise the money to buy in this farm if I have 
 to hang for it ! " he thought. " I can do it honestly, 
 though, and / will." 
 
 He worked for a while with desperate energy, and 
 presently his mood changed. Visions of the wheat 
 shock and hoe on Si's monument made him shake with 
 silent laughter. 
 
 Then a sickening fear, harder to bear than all Si's 
 taunts, smote him. Suppose, after all, he could not 
 secure the loan of a sum sufficient to buy in the farm? 
 Long years would intervene before he would be in a 
 position to ask Lele to share his home. Try as he 
 would he could not but feel that it would be a mean 
 act to ask her to share the fortune that might never 
 come to him at all. 
 
 Supper bells began to send forth their summons 
 from the various farm-houses. Syd went home with 
 lagging steps. 
 
 That morning he and Lele had had a little talk 
 that had raised his spirits somewhat, but now they were 
 lower than ever. He had been for several days more 
 than usually despondent, owning partly to the drought 
 that was rendering useless the work of months. 
 
 " Syd," Lele had begun, " I want a business talk 
 with you. To be candid, I don't think you are suc- 
 ceeding in farming, are you?"
 
 254 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I'm on the verge of ruin," Syd replied, desper- 
 ately. " Everybody knows it, too." 
 
 " I've seen ever since I've been here how you've 
 been fretting over your work, and it makes my heart 
 ache." 
 
 " What a poor stick I must be to flaunt my woes 
 before your eyes in such a feeble-minded way," said 
 Syd, deeply mortified. 
 
 " I didn't mean that you had said anything fretful. 
 It's precisely because you are so quiet and uncomplain- 
 ing that I feel so sorry for you." 
 
 " It takes a weak kind of fellow to appreciate pity," 
 said Syd, inwardly writhing. " Dispense with that, 
 please." 
 
 " It seems that I can't, as you Pennsylvanians say, 
 get any purchase on the subject. What I wish to say 
 is this: You are a born farmer if you had a chance. 
 It isn't your fault nor the fault of farming that you 
 don't succeed. It seems unfilial to say it, but we both 
 know the fault is father's. His extravagance and mis- 
 management have swallowed up one thing after another 
 of the crops, stock and implements until you have noth- 
 ing to farm with, and no heart for it. It is no wonder 
 that debt, discouragement and overwork have so nearly 
 ruined the peace of the whole family. You know there 
 is no hope of better things until my father ceases to be 
 master here." 
 
 " I know it, and yet I have shrunk from doing any- 
 thing so ungrateful as trying to oust him," said Syd, 
 hesitatingly.
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 255 
 
 " I do not think you will long have a choice in the 
 matter. The farm will soon change hands, and if you 
 could once get possession and work it in your own way, 
 I think you would be successful as a farmer, unless 
 your hopes are still for a profession." 
 
 " I should prefer farming, I believe. I only turned 
 to something else because I was so hopeless of ever 
 getting on here, either financially or intellectually. I 
 often in those days asked myself Solomon's question : 
 ' How can he get wisdom that holdeth the plow, and 
 that glorieth in the goad, that driveth oxen and is occu- 
 pied in their labors ? ' I do not now think that the 
 right kind of farming necessarily interferes with cul- 
 ture, and since I have served my apprenticeship and 
 fitted myself for it, I should like to make it my life 
 work if ever I could be permitted to farm as I think 
 it should be done." 
 
 " I would borrow the money if I were you, and 
 buy in the farm. For if it is yours, and you have the 
 ' say so ' in everything, and give Jennie a share in 
 what you make and the children what they really earn, 
 I know it will be more satisfactory all around. I will 
 ask my guardian to lend you enough money on your 
 own note to rebuild the fences and put them and the 
 buildings in complete repair. You can then get rid 
 of the present tenants, put in good ones, and with hope 
 instead of despondency, and system instead of hap- 
 hazard, all will go well. Father will be well satisfied 
 to live on his salary and be away from here. Indeed, 
 he seems to be away chiefly as it is. I will contrive
 
 256 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 some way yet to keep Ed with me until he learns a 
 trade. By mutually helping each other we shall be a 
 happy family." 
 
 " I will think of it," said Syd, thoughtfully. He 
 did not tell her how pleased he was to find that her 
 views exactly accorded with his own ; he could not 
 trust himself to enter into confidences that might betray 
 a secret, which, for the present, he must carefully 
 guard. 
 
 ******* 
 
 When Syd came in after his day's work was done, 
 he found Lele sitting on the veranda alone. Every- 
 thing was very still out of doors. Only the crickets 
 chirped, and in the hall he heard the fine droning of 
 mosquitoes. Syd was about to pass the white-clad 
 figure in the big willow rocker and go up to his room, 
 when she spoke in a low, pained voice: 
 
 " Syd, why do you treat me so coldly? You never 
 notice me any more unless I am the first to speak. 
 What have I done ? " 
 
 He paused, irresolutely, as a man must in the face 
 of danger, and then went back and seated himself in 
 the vacant chair by her side. He felt in no mood 
 for talking, and wished she had not spoken to him. 
 
 " You don't seem happy to-night. Syd," Lele 
 observed, wistfully. 
 
 " Happy ? " his heart was so wrung with depressing 
 fears and anxieties that he could have cried out with 
 pain.
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 257 
 
 " You've been thinking over my plan ? " she ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 " Yes," silence again. Syd was growing desperate. 
 He wanted a chance to show her once for all that his 
 distrait manner had its origin in something else than 
 love-sickness. She would be more free to choose 
 between him and Ward if she was sure he was not 
 " eating his heart out " with jealousy. 
 
 "Lele," he said at last, taking her hand, " I'm afraid 
 after all that I seem the very last to take you into my 
 heart as my own sister. I've often thought I ought 
 to speak of it of how glad I truly am that we are 
 and must always be bound by ties of such close rela- 
 tionship ties that can never be broken." 
 
 Lele was silent. 
 
 " Will you give me one kiss to show that you accept 
 in all his moods and tenses a brother who may always 
 be trusted, but must not often be questioned ? " 
 
 He was so grave and matter-of-fact that the smile 
 and blush faded from Lele's face. He kissed her 
 coldly as Jennie might have done had she been forced 
 to perform that distasteful duty in the time of her 
 bitterest animosity. Lele awoke with a shock to the 
 consciousness that Syd never had, never could love her. 
 Brothers might, indeed, kiss her after that mechanical 
 fashion ; lovers, never. It was a relief to both to hear 
 
 the boys come trooping through the hall. 
 
 ******* 
 
 In the gray of the clear summer morning, when 
 d7)
 
 258 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Jennie peeped into Syd's room to tell him it was time 
 to feed the horses, she was startled to find that the bed 
 had not been slept in. Syd was sitting before the open 
 window with his head on his arms in his well-known 
 attitude of dejection. 
 
 " Why, Syd, what ails you ? " asked the startled 
 girl. " Haven't you been asleep ? Are you sick ? 
 What can be the matter ? " 
 
 ' "Is it morning ? " asked Syd, drowsily. " I didn't 
 know it was so late. Had the toothache," he explained, 
 " and couldn't sleep a wink," turning his face away 
 from Jennie's searching gaze. 
 
 " Syd, you never have the toothache. It's some- 
 thing else ; something that I don't know anything about. 
 Tell me, won't you ? I've heard so much bad news " 
 Jen's voice shook. She looked prepared for anything. 
 That one of the horses was dead she felt sure; there 
 was a moment of harrowing uncertainty as to -which 
 one. 
 
 Syd turned toward \\tr impatiently. 
 
 " It isn't anything at all. Pray, save your trag- 
 edies till they're needed. The toothache is something 
 all flesh is heir to, I reckon. I'm not the first fellow 
 that has lost a few hours' sleep with it, am I ? " 
 
 " I know what ails you," said Jennie, " but you'd 
 sooner cut off one of your hands than talk with me 
 about it. Seems to me I'd talk it over and have it 
 off my mind." 
 
 " Running after people to share my mental burdens
 
 BROTHER AND SISTER. 259 
 
 is not in my line, as you know," Syd replied. " Better 
 drop the subject, Jen." 
 
 Jennie looked hard at the fair morning landscape 
 looming up out of the night mist; then her eyes met 
 Syd's, and seeing how weary and hopeless he looked, 
 a great wave of pity and longing to aid him swept over 
 her, and the dark, bright eyes grew luminous and soft 
 with tears. 
 
 " Don't, don't mind it, Syd," she said, brokenly. 
 " It's no use to care for anything. We're cursed and 
 branded, and oughtn't to expect any peace or happiness 
 from any one in this world. They weren't intended 
 for us." 
 
 " I agree with you there," cried Syd, starting up. 
 " I wonder why we are such fools as to care. I do, 
 indeed." 
 
 " We're neither sticks nor stones," said Jennie, sul- 
 lenly. " We feel the same as other people." 
 
 " We must cultivate endurance, like the Indians," 
 said Syd, getting up and walking about the room. 
 " Whining won't help matters any, that's certain." 
 
 " It wouldn't do any harm to let me know what 
 kept you sitting by that window all night," said Jennie. 
 
 " If it were the first night I've sat there all night 
 when my distracting thoughts wouldn't let me sleep, 
 it might seem more worth talking about," said Syd, 
 evasively. " There's one thing, Jinsey, that I've de- 
 cided on." 
 
 "To sell?" asked Jennie, with a gasp. 
 
 " No ; that old maids and bachelors are true mar-
 
 260 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 tyrs, and ought every one to have a crown for what 
 they are compelled to suffer in the flesh," with a nerv- 
 ous laugh. 
 
 " You've been fretting over Lele," said Jennie, 
 gloomily. 
 
 Syd at last made his confession: 
 
 " I tried last evening to convince Lele how utterly 
 indifferent I was to her. except as a step-brother, and 
 I think I was successful. It cost me dear, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 " If you are in love with her," said Jennie, " why 
 not be man enough to say so ? " 
 
 " Because," said Syd, ambiguously. 
 
 " And what does that mean ?" 
 
 " Don't you know ? Stop and think a minute what 
 / have to offer any woman." 
 
 " Debt, discouragement and drudgery," said Jennie. 
 
 " Just that." Syd opened the door " Until I have 
 a more munificent dowry than that to offer I'll never 
 speak of marriage to any woman." 
 
 " You did to Maud," retorted Jennie. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Jean. I. did not." 
 
 " Syd, I always thought she refused you." 
 
 " No doubt she would had I ever given her a 
 chance. But facts are facts, and if my worldly pros- 
 pects do not improve, I propose to go down to my 
 grave, be it fifty years hence, without having once said, 
 ' Will you be mine ? ' to any woman." He made a 
 faint attempt to whistle as he went down-stairs. It was 
 a failure.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AT THE; STILE. 
 i 
 
 On a low stile in the tall, neglected willow hedge 
 that lay between the far pasture and Si Collins's woods, 
 Jennie sat with her chin in her hand, lost in thought. 
 She had come to drive home the cows, but still the 
 industrious beasts were busily cropping the short, sun- 
 burnt grass, their dappled sides burnished with the red 
 rays of the setting sun. Above and behind her lay a 
 dense woods ; half the houses on Bethany Ridge were 
 visible below. She could even catch glimpses of the 
 far-away Susquehanna, lying like a stream of liquid 
 silver at the base of the green hills. The wind blew 
 steadily from the west and tossed back the dark hair 
 from her brow. A magnificent sunset made the west 
 gorgeous with color, and never had the landscape, made 
 up of wooded hills, grassy vales and broad, cultivated 
 fields, appeared more beautiful than now, with the 
 evening light upon it. But her surroundings, for once, 
 made no impression upon the girl's mind. She was 
 striving bravely to face the problems of the future, 
 which now seemed so dark. 
 
 Jean possessed one talent that she had an unutter- 
 able longing to cultivate a beautiful voice. Music 
 had been her one hobby, and a musical instrument 
 (261)
 
 262 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 above all things most coveted. Yet every other girl in 
 the neighborhood had a piano, and Jennie had none. 
 As a child, her chief amusement had been to make a 
 keyboard out of black and white-handled knives and 
 forks and play that it was a piano. By using this, 
 under Trix's skillful teaching, she had learned to finger 
 and to play chords in several keys. Mr. Fairfax called 
 this childish folly. He had no music in his soul, and 
 could see no reason for cultivating an art that at best 
 seemed to him but a foolish waste of time. Jean's 
 musical education had not progressed very far until 
 Lele came. Its progress under Lele's tuition was 
 rapid, phenomenal. Both girls felt that here was a 
 talent that should not be tied up in a napkin. 
 
 " I have never heard a finer voice than yours," Lele 
 had said that very day. " If cultivated, it would make 
 you famous." 
 
 Jennie had been told the same thing by others, and 
 was willing enough to believe it. But between Jean 
 McKnight and possible fame lay a great gulf. Hu- 
 manly speaking, she saw no chance of ever being able 
 to cross it. 
 
 She rose and walked back and forth beside the wav- 
 ing willows. 
 
 " I must have means," she thought. " I must have 
 freedom to work and plan for myself. I can never pos- 
 sess either while I stay here. I am nothing but a 
 household drudge, and see no prospect of ever being 
 anything else. Oh, if the farm would only educate its 
 children instead of crushing the life out of them like
 
 AT THE STILE. 263 
 
 the wheel of Juggernaut's car! I shall never be able 
 to make anything of my life. I shall die a nobody." 
 
 She wrung her hands with despair and sobbed. 
 Her future had never looked so nearly hopeless. 
 
 " If I only didn't care," she thought. "A good 
 many people don't care to make any particular stir in 
 the world. Some girls would even be glad to escape 
 penury by marrying Mr. Markley ; but he's worse than 
 the poor-house." 
 She shuddered. 
 
 " Lele would help me if she could, but she can't." 
 Jen's thoughts rambled on : " It wouldn't be right to 
 let her do it. If I only had not quit school so soon, 
 I might get a certificate and teach school to get a start 
 on my musical education. But as it is, I couldn't make 
 even a license. I seem to have darned and patched 
 and boiled and baked all the knowledge out of my 
 skull. The 'Woman with the Rolling-pin' is just 
 about on a level with the ' Man with the Hoe.' Neither 
 has time to cultivate any part of the human being that 
 is not material. The mind shrinks and dries up like 
 toasted bread before the fire. Poor farmers and their 
 families have no use for intellect. They ought to be 
 born with just enough vitality to keep them at work, 
 but not enough to make them conscious of their 
 misery." 
 
 She sat down on the stile again and began to sing 
 a little love song that she had learned from her mother, 
 who was also gifted in music. The air was yet vibrat- 
 ing with her pure notes, when a hand was lightly
 
 264 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 pressed over her eyes, and a merry voice exclaimed: 
 
 ' ' Like an enchanted boat 
 
 My soul in ecstasy doth float 
 Upon the waves of her sweet singing." 
 
 Jennie sprang up, very white for a moment, and 
 then stormily flushed : 
 
 "Ward! how did you get here?" 
 
 " I was out squirrel-hunting. Didn't expect to find 
 a nightingale at this hour." 
 
 " I did not know you ever hunted here," said Jennie, 
 gravely. "Allow me to say good-evening." 
 
 "And leave me alone after I've scrambled through 
 seas of briars to join you? I rather guess not ! Why, 
 in heaven's name, when you sing so divinely, do 
 you sit mute through all that tinny song service at 
 Bethany?" 
 
 " I fear it would not increase the harmony." 
 
 " Probably not. You would be picked to pieces 
 by a few jealous nobodies." He sat down and motioned 
 her to a place by his side. " Repeat that song for me, 
 Jennie, will you ? " 
 
 " You have heard me sing at home, often," said 
 Jennie, " and if you will come " 
 
 " Oh, I dare not. Think on that bloomin' racket 
 'twixt my revered parent and your tender-hearted 
 brother." 
 
 "What racket? I did not know of any quarrel." 
 
 " I had forgotten that Syd doesn't chatter all of 
 his troubles in the ear of his devoted family as I do. 
 Well, Jinsey, the fact is, Collins Pater came home last
 
 AT THE STILE;. 265 
 
 evening stumbling- with wrath after a row with Syd, 
 who it seems had boiled over at last I wonder it 
 didn't happen long ago and vowed to exterminate 
 the whole or any part of the Collins tribe at sight 
 the first time they appeared on this side the line. I got 
 a hearty blowing up, myself, on the strength of it, I 
 promise you. Am bound by all sorts of oaths not to 
 set my foot on the Fairfax farm before the middle of 
 September." 
 
 "Then why are you here?" asked Jennie, with 
 asperity. 
 
 " It was a one-sided article, Jinsey. Daddy-kins 
 swore all the oaths and I only laughed, not loud but 
 deep, especially when he warned me to look for a wife 
 in some other direction." 
 
 Jennie rose, her heart beating fast, and confronted 
 him with flashing eyes : 
 
 " Give me my bonnet, Ward," she said, holding out 
 a hand for the captured article. 
 
 "And leave me what?" he asked, detaining her. 
 
 "Solitude?" 
 
 " I don't enjoy it." 
 
 " ' The wise,' 'tis said, ' are never less alone than 
 when alone.' " 
 
 " I don't pretend to be wise, Jinsey, and I positively 
 hate to be alone. I wonder you would think of com- 
 ing here all by your little self." 
 
 " I come here often to practice singing, as it is th 
 only place I have ever found where there is, or has 
 been, no danger of being interrupted."
 
 266 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You have been here hundreds of times, perhaps, 
 and never had an auditor till now ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I call that a waste of good material. Let me be 
 the audience after this." 
 
 " I think not, Ward," said Jennie, candidly. " Syd 
 wouldn't like it." 
 
 " Probably not, since he's at the outs with the Col- 
 linses generally. You needn't let him know anything 
 about it." 
 
 " I've always considered Syd's preferences." 
 
 " I thought there was a tide in the affairs of girls 
 when somebody else's brother wa? the first to be con- 
 sidered." 
 
 " Even if he didn't care, I would far rather see 
 you at home than here. You'll be there anyhow before 
 to-morrow night to see Lele," she added. 
 
 " No, I won't. We've quit." 
 
 " That's a hackneyed phrase with you about 
 girls." 
 
 " It's true as gospel this time. Lele and Daddy- 
 kins both have their faces set against me for Syd's step- 
 brother. I'm just as free as air, Jennie, and I'm com- 
 ing out here to-morrow evening to see you." 
 
 " It wouldn't be right," said Jennie, reddening. 
 But, oh, how she wished that it zvas right. 
 
 "Jean, you haven't a particle of romance about 
 you." 
 
 " It is not a question of romance, Ward." 
 
 "You clearly don't care a straw whether I'm
 
 AT THE STILE. 267 
 
 pleased or not," said Ward, in an injured tone. " I 
 thought once that you liked me." 
 
 The girl's cheeks crimsoned. 
 
 " Are we friends, Jinsey ?" 
 
 " We are not enemies, I hope," said Jean. 
 
 " It seems to me half the time that we are." 
 
 A passionate denial rose to her lips, but she 
 repressed it. To-morrow she would be glad to remem- 
 ber that no foolish, sentimental words had passed 
 between herself and Ward. Again she held out her 
 hand for the sunbonnet, which Ward still held. 
 
 " Well, I shall give you your bonnet, Jinsey," he 
 said, after demurring a while, " on one condition." 
 
 "And that?" 
 
 " You must give me a kiss." 
 
 Jennie's eyes flashed wide and dark under their 
 heavy lashes. Ward felt as far from comprehending 
 the soul that looked out of those wonderful eyes as he 
 was from being able to make love in Hindoostanee. 
 But he had sense enough not to repeat his request. He 
 gave her back her bonnet in silence. She took it with 
 an offended air, but repented a little and turned back 
 as she was leaving him. 
 
 " Good-bye, Ward," she said ; but Ward had turned 
 suddenly sulky and did not hear. " What have I 
 done ? " asked Jennie. 
 
 " What have I done?" repeated Ward, in an injured 
 tone. 
 
 " Why must you always talk nonsense ? " asked Jen- 
 nie, reproachfully.
 
 268 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Confound it, Jennie, a fellow never knows what 
 to say to you. It will be a lucky man that finds the 
 right road to that heart of yours." 
 
 Jennie had put on her sunbonnet. It was white, 
 with a wide frill of embroidery and a blue lining. Jen- 
 nie's dark, bright face looked more attractive under it 
 than he had ever in his life remembered it. 
 
 " What has come to Jen of late ? " he thought. 
 " Her eyes would make the fortune of any artist cap- 
 able of painting them." 
 
 Obeying a sudden impulse, which a man less weak 
 would have resisted, he took both her hands in his 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 " Jinsey, you know how well I used to like you. Sit 
 down and tell me why you've treated me so badly of 
 late." 
 
 " I'm sorry if I did," said Jennie, with quivering 
 lips. " I couldn't help it, Ward." 
 
 " Do you want to make it up once for all, Jinsey ? " 
 
 His tone had grown tender. Jennie faltered "Yes," 
 r.nd the next moment was in his arms, her long lashes 
 drooping against cheeks that his lips had touched as 
 with fire. 
 
 Ward did more serious thinking in the next thirty 
 seconds than he had ever done in any previous thirty 
 minutes in his life. It was simply impossible to look 
 into Jen's eyes without knowing how entirely her heart 
 was his, how true she had been to her childish vows. 
 Why had he gone so far in making light love to a 
 serious girl like Jennie?
 
 AT THE STILE. 269 
 
 " What am I to do to get out of this ? " he groaned 
 inwardly. " I never dreamt it as a proposal. If poor 
 Jinks had ever been in society, she would know that a 
 fellow never means half what he says, and that kisses 
 don't count as much as engagement rings." 
 
 He suddenly discovered that he was late to supper, 
 and that his mother, apprehensive that he had shot him- 
 self instead of a squirrel, would be sending out a 
 searching party. 
 
 " But to-morrow evening at this hour I will see you 
 again," he added. 
 
 Disappointment and doubt began to conflict with 
 Jennie's faith in her childhood lover. She experienced, 
 too, feelings of anger that he should expect her to meet 
 him clandestinely. 
 
 " You don't want to meet me here ? " she fal- 
 tered. 
 
 " I can't come to your house just at present," said 
 Ward, evasively. " Syd and Daddykins would com- 
 bine to break up the meeting. But I can see you 
 here "- 
 
 " No, Ward, you can not ! " cried Jennie, her anger 
 suddenly flashing up. " I don't care to entertain young 
 men who do not respect me enough to come to my 
 home to visit me." 
 
 "All right," said Ward, outwardly angry, though 
 inwardly glad ; " no use to be on friendly terms with 
 you, I see. A girl that has no more confidence in a 
 fellow than you have in me shouldn't trust herself in 
 his company anywhere." ("That sounds "well," he
 
 270 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 reflected, " and there's more truth in it than I usually 
 put in my sentences.") 
 
 "But, Ward"- 
 
 " I mean just that," repeated Ward ; " it is quite as 
 much the thing to see me here as in your step-father's 
 house having known each other all our lives, as we 
 have." 
 
 " It doesn't seem so to me." 
 
 " I try to be a gentleman everywhere, and I think 
 you've always known it. But there's no use for us 
 to try to get on together. We can't, so we might as 
 well stop trying." 
 
 " Yes," said Jennie, realizing for the first time how 
 a drowning person feels when he catches his last 
 glimpse of the green hills by the river-side. 
 
 " I wish you good-evening, Jennie, and sincerely 
 apologize if I have offended you." 
 
 " Good evening, and good-bye ! " 
 
 Jean spoke the words mechanically, her eyes full 
 of regret and longing. Ward turned to go, but looked 
 back indecisively, and his face softened. 
 
 " Is it good-bye?" he asked, in a winsome under- 
 tone. 
 
 " If she stays now, it will be on a different footing," 
 he thought. " I wish she would stay." 
 
 " If you can not come to our house yes ! " said 
 Jean, firmly. 
 
 " It's just obstinacy, Jinsey." 
 
 " It's just because I won't do what I think wrong 
 even to please you, Ward."
 
 AT THE STItK. 27! 
 
 " I'm sorry I ever asked you, then, if that's the 
 way you look at it. Good-bye, Jennie." 
 " Good-bye, Ward." 
 
 ******* 
 
 The next afternoon Ward was lying on the parlor 
 sofa, with the blinds drawn to exclude the sun, when 
 Keith Hubbard chanced to call. 
 
 " Oh, stay out of here," he cried, fretfully, when the 
 parlor door opened. " Beg pardon, Keith. I thought 
 it was Roy, and I can't have him in here. My head 
 aches to distraction. Have the kindness to lock the 
 door, will you ? " 
 
 " What ails you, Polly ? You look knocked up." 
 
 " I'm in a confounded scrape, that's what," said 
 Ward, pounding Trix's miracle of art the sofa pil- 
 low. " I've thought and thought till I'm sick of think- 
 ing, and I can't see my way out of it." 
 
 "A queer thing to happen to Ward Collins, I must 
 say. Better 'fess up, and if there's a way out, I'll help 
 you." 
 
 " I've made a fool of myself, Keith such a blamed 
 fool." 
 
 And with great frankness he related what had 
 passed between himself and Jennie. 
 
 " Keith, I hope I may die if I had the remotest idea 
 of making serious love to her,' he added. 
 
 " Why not write and make it up ? " 
 
 " Make it up, the dickens ! When I'm dead in love 
 with her fascinating step-sister ? That was really why 
 I couldn't go to the house to see Jen. I had studied
 
 2/2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 it all out, and Lele suited me better for a wife than any 
 girl I ever saw. So I had just made up my mind ' to 
 put it to the test and win or lose ' Miss Fairfax, when 
 I got my foot into it with Jen, and I don't know how 
 to get it out." 
 
 " Kick yourself a few times when you do," sug- 
 gested Keith. 
 
 " I've done that already, but it doesn't help matters 
 at all. I've made a true-hearted girl believe I'm in 
 love with her when I'm not much." He tore his 
 hair and groaned, which made Keith laugh. 
 
 " You don't know now whether you are, or not," 
 he said, jeering-ly. 
 
 " I tell you, Hubby, I shan't forget the look in Jen's 
 eyes when we parted if I live a hundred years. And 
 to think I've got to meet her every time I call on Lele, 
 and know she considers me a regular scamp! I wish 
 I had shot myself while out squirrel-hunting. I do 
 indeed." 
 
 Keith reflected. 
 
 " You can meet Lele at entertainments for a while 
 instead of her home,". he said, presently.- " I'll get up 
 a few for your especial benefit. In this way you will 
 scarcely see Jennie. She hardly ever goes anywhere. 
 And when you do see her, it would be best to act just 
 as usual. I can't see that you compromised yourself 
 much." 
 
 "I didn't say much, and I didn't mean much," 
 "Ward replied, " but I kissed her." 
 
 " It wasn't the first time, I suppose. And besides,
 
 AT THE STILE. 273 
 
 where would you be if you were called to account for 
 all your kisses ? " 
 
 " Jen is so different from other girls, Hubby, so 
 different. She's unique in that she knows neither how 
 to deceive or take deceit. I made her admit with her 
 eyes " 
 
 " Polly, what if Syd knew that you were chattering 
 all this stuff about Jen ? " 
 
 " I don't suppose you'll have the cheek to run over 
 and tell him." 
 
 " No ; but a good many fellows would." 
 
 " You know I can't live without a confidant of some 
 kind." 
 
 " No ; if you were a hen-pecked husband, you'd 
 chatter your troubles in the ear of the public. I warn 
 you right now that I won't be in the mix-up." 
 
 " ' No cause to be af eared ' as yet. If I could 
 exchange tongues with some butter- woman, I'd be a 
 single man for years yet." 
 
 " But, if not, you're liable to come home married 
 almost any day. Or what is worse engaged to the 
 wrong girl. .I'm getting out of patience with you." 
 
 " Going to throw up your job as adviser, are you ? 
 I don't much care, since you've taken out your license ; 
 only I don't know where I can better myself, for Morris 
 is no good since I'm out with Maud, and Ol Stuart's 
 mother with her purity pledges and missionary boxes 
 and temperance tracts, is enough to keep any young 
 man from his roof. I wonder you ever go there. 
 Even if Alice were talkative, her virtuous mother 
 (18)
 
 274 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 would rq^el more beaux than she could ever attract." 
 
 " License ? " interrogated Keith, catching at the one 
 word in the whole harangue that interested him. 
 
 " To preach, I mean. When you get down to cut 
 and dried sermons, I'm out with Betsy." 
 
 " Fact is, Polly, you've got about to where you'd 
 better listen to preaching. You've done some shabby 
 things in your time, old fellow ; like when Syd was 
 trusting you as he would a brother, and you trying 
 all the time to cut him out." 
 
 " I wasn't trying, Hubby, really. But I just found 
 that I could if I didn't resist much. Resistance 
 never was a failing with me." 
 
 " Nor a virtue, either. You ought to thank your 
 stars that you had Syd to keep you straight as long 
 as you did." 
 
 " And that I've still got you," laughed Ward. 
 
 " You surely ought to learn to stand alone some 
 time. If you keep on sliding " 
 
 " I've always found sliding very pleasant ; and as 
 for scrapes this is about the worst one I ever got 
 into, and it isn't serious I guess. Still I do wish it 
 hadn't happened. I'm afraid she'll tell Lelc!"
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 " TILL THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER." 
 
 Ward had miscalculated the loyalty of his old play- 
 mate, for Jean would never have dreamed of " telling 
 Lele." What mental tortures she endured during the 
 succeeding days, none ever suspected not even Ward, 
 whom with the curious inconsistency of her passionate 
 nature, she never blamed. That she might have won 
 the only man she had ever loved by resorting to that 
 doubtful expedient a clandestine courtship she did 
 not doubt. Many a romantic girl would have counted 
 the chance of happiness which she had relinquished, as 
 one of her choicest blessings. To be sure, it was but 
 one in ten in her favor, but what girl of eighteen ever 
 sits down to calculate upon the adverse chances in a 
 love affair ? 
 
 The only thing that caused her to act in the matter 
 as she did was the principle instilled by her Christian 
 mother that one's self-respect is to be maintained at 
 all hazards. She felt that Ward himself would not 
 long have respected her did she consent to do what her 
 own conscience pronounced doubtful. And she was 
 right. 
 
 The loss of a fickle lover is by no means the great- 
 est that a girl can sustain. 
 
 (275)
 
 2/6 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Jean had the courage and pride that belong to high- 
 strung, sensitive natures ; and she would have suffered 
 all the tortures of the rack before she would have let 
 Ward see how sore had been her disappointment. For 
 one happy moment she had thought he really loved her. 
 The old apple-tree in the orchard was her only confi- 
 dant, and this faithful friend kept her secret well. 
 
 If her depression of spirit was noticed, she stoutly 
 averred that it was the mortgage alone which was to 
 blame ; a statement that was fully confirmed, so far 
 as Ward was concerned, by her manner toward that 
 young gentleman when, after a few days, he came to 
 call on L,ele again. Jean seemed to have forgotten all 
 that had transpired at the stile, and treated him much 
 as any other girl would have treated a friend and neigh- 
 bor. She was learning at last to conceal her real 
 feelings. 
 
 Ward, though immensely relieved at her philo- 
 sophical way of accepting the situation, was puzzled. 
 He never had been able to comprehend Jean's contra- 
 dictory moods, and he often said " she was queerer than 
 the queerest girl in Germany." Everything had con- 
 spired to separate him from his old playmate, Jen's 
 temper being no small factor ; and at this time as it 
 happened he imagined himself absorbingly in love 
 with Lele. 
 
 " Tell you what, Hubby," he said, in one of his 
 confidential chats with Keith, " if ever a fellow was 
 glad of anything, I am that Jen had the sense and prin- 
 ciple to put her foot down on meeting me at that stile.
 
 "TIU, THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER." 277 
 
 With those black eyes of hers she might have cajoled 
 me into a runaway marriage right on the eve of a 
 wedding with my little heiress ! " 
 
 " There's nothing impossible where you are con- 
 cerned," said Keith, drily. 
 
 " You mean I'm not much to be depended upon, 
 eh ? " 
 
 " Not much, except to look out for number one, 
 like your old dad." 
 
 " Confound you, Hub ! When did I ever outrage 
 the proprieties ? " 
 
 " Never had a good chance, or you would. You 
 need a good, high-principled wife, if ever a fellow did." 
 
 " Lele Fairfax would about fill the bill, I guess." 
 
 " I wouldn't bank much on Miss Fairfax, Polly." 
 
 " You wouldn't? I wonder why." 
 
 " It's my opinion she doesn't care the snap of a 
 whip about you. She sees through you better than 
 Jen does." 
 
 " Thanks ! " 
 
 " Better give her up. A marriage with Jen is about 
 the only thing that will ever make a man of you." 
 
 " Well, Hub, I shouldn't wonder if you are right. 
 But you can't think what a de'il of a shindy the old 
 man would kick up if he knew I contemplated such a 
 
 thing ! " 
 
 ******* 
 
 Syd was sitting moody, silent and alone on the 
 veranda. The day had been a miserable one for him, 
 owing partly to a hot argument with Mr. Fairfax ; but
 
 2/8 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 he could have found some comfort in sitting under the 
 honeysuckles, hearing the girls sing and play, if Ward 
 Collins had kindly stayed at home. But Ward, in those 
 days, would, as he confided to Keith, " have gone past 
 dragons and through fire " for a glimpse of his best 
 and latest girl ; he was not, therefore, likely to be 
 detained at home by either Trix's scoffs, or fear of 
 Syd's or his father's displeasure, or yet by any sensitive 
 scruples concerning what Jennie might say or think. 
 
 " But if I were not so gone on Lele, I half believe 
 I should lose myself to Jen, Keith," he said to his 
 confidant on his way over there this evening. " Her 
 eyes sink into a fellow's very soul." 
 
 "And Lele," began Keith, jestingly. 
 
 " Don't you call her Lele, Hubby ; that's bad enough 
 for me to do. And by the way, old man, I guess I 
 could depend upon you for my best in case of emer- 
 gency, eh ? " 
 
 " Rather ; I should say I had promised to officiate 
 in that capacity on half a dozen different occasions ; 
 but the ceremony never comes off, does it ? " 
 
 Their roads parted here. 
 
 "Bye-bye," called Ward very softly after his 
 departing friend. "Kiss Maud for me once, won't you, 
 Hubby ? " And turning in at the Fairfax gate, he 
 presently stumbled over Syd sitting in the dark on the 
 veranda. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Syd," he said, in his boyish way, 
 " but you are a fry to mope out here when you might
 
 "TIU< THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER." 279 
 
 just as well be in the parlor having your bit of fun. 
 Come along, won't you ? " 
 
 " Not to-night," said Syd, stiffly, and sauntered 
 down the avenue toward the gate. Ward's light laugh 
 pursued him. 
 
 " Confound him ! " he muttered, putting his hands 
 over his ears with a shudder. " I wonder how I ever 
 could have liked Ward. That laugh of his rings in 
 my ears for hours after I see him. It's simply mad- 
 dening." 
 
 He gazed up and down the long, winding road, 
 and across the fields toward St. John's, shuddering 
 again as he heard the tinkle of Maud's piano. He 
 wondered if Maud, too, would contrive to happen in 
 while Ward was here, as she had done several times 
 before. Twilight deepened. There was a cloud in ihe 
 west that rolled itself across the sky until it swallowed 
 up nearly all the stars. Syd prayed for rain, but with- 
 out much faith. It never rained when you wanted it, 
 and when you were perishing for a little sunshine, the 
 rain poured in bucketfuls, regardless of prayer. 
 
 A light glimmered in the parlor window at St. 
 John's, then disappeared and shone again from an 
 upper window. Syd wondered if Maud were not get- 
 ting ready for a drive with Keith Hubbard, and 
 whether she would venture to hold the lines again. 
 He felt in a contemptuous, sneering mood to-night. 
 Things had gone so sadly wrong that day. Crops were 
 not improving ; indeed, they were growing daily more 
 unpromising. In the tobacco patch there seemed to
 
 28O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ba at least one worm for every leaf ; and thrashing was 
 at hand. He wondered what would become of the 
 worms while he was " changing hands." It usually 
 took about two weeks, but would take less time this 
 year: the fly had damaged his wheat considerably. 
 And he had confidently counted on a big harvest to 
 help him out with the interest money! 
 
 Syd stood under the vine-covered gateway at the 
 foot of the lawn, leaning on the gate in grim, discour- 
 aged silence. How he wished for his old-time faith 
 in Ward, and Maud, and everybody! It was so dis- 
 tressing to degenerate into a cynic, with a sneer for 
 everybody and even-thing. Syd had not expected to 
 develop into that unpleasant type of human nature. 
 
 He was so busy with his thoughts that he did not 
 notice the approach of Ward and Lele until they had 
 nearly reached the gate. He had barely time to step 
 out of their way, for he was in no mood to join their 
 laughing chat. Before he could slip away unseen, he 
 heard Ward half declare his love to Lele, and with the 
 amazing assurance that characterized that volatile gen- 
 tleman, impress a swiftly stolen kiss upon her lips. 
 
 Lele indignantly repulsed him. 
 
 " How dare you ? " she cried. " I deserve this, per- 
 haps, for my imprudence in coming down here with 
 you at this hour. In future I shall be wiser. Let me 
 bid you good-night." 
 
 Ward detained her as she was running away. 
 
 " Oh, don't leave me, Miss Fairfax Lele, darling 
 I love you. Don't you understand? I hope I may
 
 THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER/' 281 
 
 die if I am deceiving you. Listen to me, Lele, I'm des- 
 perately in earnest." 
 
 " I expect," said Lele, with a nervous laugh, " to 
 hear Maud St. John repeat this whole scene to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 " By Jove ! what do you take me for ? " cried Ward, 
 deeply mortified. 
 
 " I take you to be very much in fun," said Lele, 
 recovering her good humor. 
 
 " I swear I'm in the deadest kind of earnest," 
 declared Ward, getting to where laughter was " no 
 good." 
 
 " You had no right to kiss me," said Lele. " I 
 don't like such fun." 
 
 " But it wasn't fun, Miss Fairfax. Do believe me 
 when I say that I never meant to offend you." 
 
 " You are incapable of loving me or any girl," she 
 said. " Your love-making is all put on." 
 
 For the first time in his life Ward began to tremble 
 in his shoes at the prospect of getting an out-and-out 
 refusal. 
 
 " Oh, don't, Lele," cried he in a tone of abject mis- 
 ery. " I've made a fool of myself by speaking too 
 soon. Give me till the first of September to retrieve 
 myself." 
 
 " It would be useless." 
 
 " I won't take a positive ' No ' " he cried. " I can't 
 bear it. Think how I love you ! " 
 
 " But I don't love you, and I never can," said Lele, 
 candidly. " I must look up to the man I am to marry.
 
 282 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 I must feel that he is stronger than I. I can never 
 feel so toward you." 
 
 " Jen and Syd have prejudiced you against me," 
 said Ward, feeling that he deserved little mercy at the 
 hands of Jean and her bother. 
 
 " Mr. Collins, you are greatly mistaken. Neither 
 of them ever tried to influence me against you." 
 
 Ward was silent a moment ; then he said : 
 
 " Lele, I hate to mention it, but if you don't care 
 particularly for any other fellow, I should think it 
 strange you would throw away such a good chance to 
 save your father's home." 
 
 " You mean " Lele began f alter ingly, and 
 stopped. 
 
 " I mean that my father is determined to sell him 
 out in September, and that is the reason I spoke so 
 soon. The place, if he gets it, is to be my share of 
 the estate ; and you could buy it in and give it to Syd 
 or any of your folks to keep. My grandfather left me 
 enough to buy a good farm, and stock it, too. I don't 
 want you for your money, and I don't care a continental 
 what you do with it, so you give me yourself." 
 
 Lele seemed petrified. She did not speak for so 
 long a time that it seemed to Syd in his involuntary 
 ambush that he should die of that pain in his heart if 
 she did not answer soon. Twenty times he felt that 
 she was on the verge of a sacrificial acceptance. Ward 
 far less impatiently awaited her reply. He knew he 
 had played his best card last. Syd knew it, too, and 
 trembled as with a chill. Oh, that silence! AIT!
 
 " TILL THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER." 283 
 
 how Maud's piano tinkled through it all, like a grating 
 laugh. The light- had returned to the parlor. Syd 
 wondered why Maud's movements had so totally ceased 
 to interest him. He had so far lost faith in her that 
 it would not now have pained him to see her married 
 to Ward ; but the thought of giving Lele up to his old 
 rival pierced his heart with the keenest pain he had 
 experienced since his mother's death. It was as though 
 all the comfort and solace that had come into his dreary 
 life were suddenly to be snatched away. 
 
 " I'm afraid I've shocked you/' said Ward at last. 
 " But, Lele, darling, don't think I'm posing as the 
 villain in the cheap novel. I'm not, by Jove ! But I'm 
 perfectly powerless to help you or yours unless we're 
 engaged. I could do a great deal for you then. And 
 I give you my word of honor not to interfere if you 
 buy the land and give it back to your father. He's 
 getting old, and it would break his heart to lose it." 
 
 Lele sighed deeply and stared at the dim, dusty road 
 and the clover-scented meadows beyond, sparkling with 
 fireflies. Along the southern horizon great stars were 
 shining, as yet untouched by the advancing storm cloud. 
 
 " Lele, why don't you speak to me ?" cried Ward, 
 in tones of melting entreaty. "What! Crying? I'm 
 a confounded fool to make you feel so." His arm stole 
 around her. " Oh, dearest, let me comfort you. Can't 
 you trust me and love me a little, sweetheart?" 
 
 " Have the goodness not to touch me," said Lele, 
 haughtily.
 
 284 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You positively hate me, I believe," said Ward, 
 amazed. 
 
 " No, I like you very much when you act sensibly. 
 But I can't bear this sort of thing." 
 
 " Don't you ever expect to be loved and caressed by 
 some lucky fellow?" 
 
 " I wish you could know how distasteful this con- 
 versation is to me," said Lele. 
 
 "You have made me love you," cried impetuous 
 Ward. "And now you are so heartless that you 
 wouldn't even marry me to save your father's home." 
 
 "I'm not heartless," said Lele, with a sob. 
 
 Ward repented. 
 
 " Miss Fairfax, forgive me. I didn't mean it. 
 You're the sweetest girl I ever saw, and if you could 
 care for me as I do for you, I'd be the happiest fellow 
 on this green earth. But remember, I'll do the best I 
 can for your folks, anyway." 
 
 " Thank you ; that is kind," Lele contrived to say 
 unsteadily ; " but I do not think anything can make a 
 difference in my answer. I have no moral right to 
 marry you just to save my old home." 
 
 " You'll leave it unsettled, though, for the present ?" 
 he pleaded. 
 
 " Yes, if you like ; but my heart tells me it is as 
 much settled as it will ever be," she said, with a sigh. 
 
 "If you weren't so steeled against me I am sure I 
 could make you love me in time," said Ward, in his 
 most winsome tones. 
 
 " It is not that," said Lele. " You will see yourself,
 
 " TILL THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER/' 285 
 
 when you come to know me better, that we are totally 
 unsuited to each other." 
 
 "Perhaps when you know me better you will change 
 your mind," said Ward, hopefully. 
 
 A few minutes later Syd heard buggy wheels rolling 
 swiftly down the pike. Far in the distance he could 
 still hear the hoof-beats of Di and Venus in perfect 
 accord. Lele had disappeared up the avenue, and when 
 the forerunner of a summer storm began to toss the 
 highest boughs of the elm trees, Syd also retraced his 
 steps to the house. Thunder was booming in the dis- 
 tance and the last star had fled. A few large drops of 
 rain fell. 
 
 " If we can only have a shower !" thought Syd. 
 " The atmosphere already seems clearer." 
 
 He went into the hall with an elastic step. Lele 
 came running down the stairs with an anxious look on 
 her face. 
 
 " Oh, Syd, I didn't know there was going to be a 
 storm !" she said, tremulously. 
 
 " There isn't," replied Syd, tranquilly. 
 
 " But listen how the wind blows, and the thunder 
 is getting closer," cried Lele, in terror, as a furious 
 gust shook the house and red lightning gleamed at the 
 windows. 
 
 Syd went into the parlor, and after a struggle with 
 the wind, closed the shutters. Then he seated himself 
 by Lele on the sofa and took her hand. Instantly she 
 flushed crimson.
 
 286 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You don't like this sort of thing ?" he asked her 
 teasingly. 
 
 " You were at the gate just now?" she questioned, 
 half angrily. 
 
 " I was there when you came, and couldn't get 
 away," he confessed, with unfeigned humility. " I 
 heard every word." 
 
 " And, like Charlie " 
 
 " Unlike Charlie, I shall never mention it again." 
 
 " You don't think I did wrong, do you ?" 
 
 " Wrong?" 
 
 A crash of thunder shook the old house to its foun- 
 dations. L,ele retreated to the onlv place of safety she 
 knew, Syd's arms, and thereby gave him the impres- 
 sion that thunder storms were made in heaven for the 
 express use of tongue-tied lovers. 
 
 "Didn't the lightning strike somewhere near?" she 
 asked, in terror-stricken tones, but making a dignified 
 effort to appear brave. 
 
 " I guess not," said Svd, reassuringly. Ordinarily 
 he was the first at the window to see what effect, if 
 any, the bolt had had on the barn. All his wheat and 
 clover were stored there now, but he never stirred. 
 More wheat and clover would grow, but two such pre- 
 cious experiences as this, which had suddenly come to 
 him, might not happen in a lifetime. He accounted 
 every second that that girlish head reposed on his 
 shoulder of priceless worth. For once he could have 
 the supreme satisfaction of pitying Ward. She had 
 repulsed him. Meanwhile Svd hailed anything short
 
 "TIU, THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER/' 287 
 
 of a cyclone as the greatest blessing of his life. A 
 very brief blessing, however. In a few moments the 
 wind lulled. The thunder, too, rolled less ominously, 
 and Lele's courage returned. 
 
 And now, too, Jennie's excited voice was heard 
 calling them in the hall. 
 
 " I just bet they're out takin' a walk an' have been 
 thunderbolted," sobbed Tude. 
 
 " Tude, you ought to be a woman's rights poli- 
 tician," said Charlie's teasing voice. " You beat the 
 nabobs for combining impossibilities." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, I'm sure," said 
 Tude. 
 
 " Why, if they've been thunderbolted, how can they 
 be taking a walk ?" quizzed Charlie. 
 
 " I knowed something would happen to somebody 
 when you brought that hoe in the house," said Cora to 
 Charlie. " It never fails to bring bad luck." 
 
 "Fiddlesticks!" said Charlie. 
 
 " I don't believe you'd care" 
 
 " Well, I've been wanting to go somewhere ever 
 since I've got my new suit," said Charlie. "An' a 
 funeral's about the only chance for a kid of my size to 
 show a new suit on Bethany Ridge." 
 
 Lele and Syd caught, through the half-open parlor 
 door, snatches of this colloquy in the hall, and it 
 brought both of them back to a realizing sense of their 
 situation. Moreover, the thunder was rolling so far in 
 the distance that there was not the slightest excuse for 
 further timidity ; even the rain was ceasing. Only the
 
 288 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 edge of the storm had visited Fairfax Farm, and no 
 good would accrue to the crops, after all. But Syd, for 
 
 once, was not disposed to quarrel with the weather. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Mr. Fairfax came bustling into the parlor a moment 
 later, and looked hurriedly about him with a glance of 
 real anxiety. 
 
 " I thought I heard them come in," he said, and at 
 the same time caught sight of Syd and Lele sitting 
 decorously on the sofa, but with eyes glowing with 
 suppressed laughter. 
 
 " Not thunderbolted yet !" said Lele, radiant with 
 the mere joy of living and loving. Syd looked down 
 at her with a half smile that told his keen-witted step- 
 father more than he would have been willing to reveal. 
 
 " It's all right," said Mr. Fairfax, cheerfully, and 
 as Jennie and the children came in he withdrew to his 
 own room. 
 
 " I'm thankful it is all right," he thought. " I guess 
 the mortgage will be lifted without difficulty. Inviting 
 
 Lele home was a real stroke of genius !" 
 
 ****** 
 
 Ward reached home before the storm broke. To 
 his surprise he found Keith Hubbard in the parlor, 
 tuning his violin. 
 
 " Hello, Hub ! I thought you were at Maud's," was 
 his greeting. 
 
 " She has a fellow out from Lansing," said Keith, 
 in very low spirits. " The game's up with me, Polly."
 
 '' TILL THE; FIRST OF SEPTEMBER." 289 
 
 " Same here! Don't play, Hubby, I'm 'drefful low 
 down/ " 
 
 " Actually been given the mitten ?" 
 
 " Precious close to it. And, Hubby, I wonder if 
 the girls feel half as bad when they lose us as we do 
 when we lose them." 
 
 " Worse, Polly, I've no doubt." 
 
 " Then I'll never flirt again."
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 A SET-TO AND A SET-BACK. 
 
 Old Heldt came the next morning a little earlier 
 than usual with his cattle complaints, and he was in a 
 towering passion this time. The wind last night had 
 blown down some portion of the division fence, and all 
 of the Fairfax stock had roamed at will for hours over 
 the Heldt farm. 
 
 " Ife got dem sthocks benned oop," he added, 
 shaking his fist under Syd's nose, " und you gids none 
 off dem home undil you bays me dwenty-fife tollar 
 town." 
 
 " Twenty-five fiddlesticks !' said Syd, contemptu- 
 ously. " I'll do nothing of the kind." 
 
 Heldt became perfectly inarticulate in English and 
 lapsed into Dutch oaths. 
 
 " It wasn't my fault that the wind blew the fence 
 down," Syd added. 
 
 " I wants my dwenty-fife tollar," shouted Heldt. 
 
 " I haven't got the money," said Syd, beginning to 
 be very angry, " and you shouldn't have it if I had." 
 
 " You can get der money from yer sthep-seester," 
 said Heldt. " I hear you'fe gongluded to marry her, 
 anyhow. Fetter be soon 'fore you're sold under t'e 
 hammer," he added, sneeringly. 
 
 " Save your slurs," cried Syd. " Who has the impu- 
 
 (290)
 
 A SET-TO AND A SET-BACK. 29 1 
 
 dence to invent such a lie?" he added, angrily, when he 
 thought of Lele. 
 
 Ed was coming down the lane with a hoe over his 
 shoulder, but Syd didn't notice his approach. He was 
 " too mad to see straight," but not so mad as he became 
 a moment later. 
 
 " Vy, eferybody," Heldt said in answer to his ques- 
 tion. " It's t'e talk off t'e Reedge. Dey say you air 
 goin' t' buy in t'e ole man's blace mit Lele's money 
 ride away." 
 
 Syd now saw Ed standing by Heldt, eyeing his step- 
 brother suspiciously. 
 
 " Are you ?" he asked. 
 
 " No !" cried Syd, vehemently. " It's a lie, and 
 here's something to nail it !" 
 
 He struck straight out from the shoulder, and the 
 Dutchman, heavy and strong as he was, went down 
 under a blow that would have staggered an ox. 
 
 " Good heavens, Syd ! you've finished him," 
 exclaimed Ed. 
 
 " I guess not," Syd replied, coolly, and stood with 
 folded arms waiting for his opponent to rise. Heldt 
 scrambled to his feet, purple with rage. 
 
 " Coome oud in der peeg road und fide mit me like 
 ein man !" he shouted. " He been ripe for ein fide mit 
 you t'is long time." 
 
 " I thought so," Syd replied, pulling off his jacket. 
 " Come on ; I'm just as ready for a fight as you are." 
 
 Tude and Cora ran after the two men. their hair 
 streaming on the wind.
 
 2Q2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Oh, Syd, don't fight ! Ed, don't let them kill each 
 other!" they screamed in chorus. 
 
 " Shut up, and go back to the house !" said Syd, 
 turning upon them a face like that of the Iron Duke. 
 The two girls fell back terror-stricken. 
 
 " Go to the house, I say !" thundered Syd. Cora 
 and Tude retreated as rapidly as they had approached. 
 Tude confided to Jennie afterward: 
 
 " I never was so scared in all my life. And Cora 
 never was, either. Syd looked awful." 
 
 Syd walked down the lane with long, swift strides, 
 and flung open the gate for the panting Dutchman to 
 pass through. Bloated with beer and winded already 
 from his fall, Heldt felt himself no match in a fair 
 fight with the muscular young fellow before him. He 
 whipped out a big bowie-knife. 
 
 " Not fair, not fair !" Ed sang out, interposing his 
 hoe between them. " Fist fight or none." 
 
 " Gol darn you !" said Heldt, looking suspiciously 
 from one to the other. " Haf I got to settle mit both 
 off you scubbs?" 
 
 " No," said Syd, making Ed stand aside ; " but 
 I'm not going to be drawn and quartered by a Dutch 
 butcher when I'm not armed." 
 
 And with a dextrous movement of the hoe, which 
 he had snatched from Ed, he sent the knife spinning 
 into the long grass by the roadside. Heldt regarded 
 his skillful maneuver with bulging eyes, and his ardor 
 cooled, now that his knife was gone.
 
 A SET-TO AND A SET-BACK. 293 
 
 " Coome, now, Seet, mine claims is joost, ain't dey ?" 
 he asked, in much milder tones. 
 
 "All just claims will be settled in time, as you 
 know," said Syd. " But when you come here insulting 
 my step-sister that's something to be settled now. 
 Are you ready?" 
 
 " Yah," said Heldt, laboriously divesting himself of 
 his plaid gingham working jacket and handing it to 
 Ed, who stood ready, as he declared, " to see that there 
 was to be no funking on either side." Then " screwing 
 his courage to the striking point," Heldt made a run at 
 Syd. He was met by a blow full in the forehead that 
 sent him rolling in the dust. Syd waited with folded 
 arms for his enemy to recover his equilibrium. In a 
 moment the Dutchman renewed the conflict, flying at 
 Syd's throat like a huge bull-dog. With remarkable 
 agility Syd eluded his grasp, and adding a few pounds 
 to the momentum already gained by the Dutchman in 
 making the attack, Syd hurled him from him with 
 force enough to send him kersplash into a ditch filled 
 with stagnant water by the roadside. Heldt raised his 
 head, snorting like a rhinoceros, while Ed, who had 
 just sufficient sense of humor to see the fun in a fight, 
 held his sides with laughter. 
 
 Heldt rolled from the mud into the dust, and 
 hesitating to rise, stared panic-stricken at his cool 
 antagonist. 
 
 " Py sheeminy, t'is is no fair fight," he growled. 
 
 " Get up and fight, then, you awkward booger," said 
 Syd, contemptuously.
 
 294 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Gid oop ? T'ere's no use t' gid oop !" whimpered 
 the Dutchman. " You haf learned the drick off strikin' 
 like lightnin'. How'd I know you'd been bractisin' mid 
 san'bags all summer?" 
 
 " I haven't," said Syd. " You don't want to fight. 
 Get up, old Beer-keg, and apologize for your insults 
 and go home." 
 
 Heldt got up with some difficulty, mopped his 
 streaming countenance, and proceeded to apologize. 
 
 " Now go over to that infernal old sheep-trap of 
 yours and bring my stock home," commanded Syd. 
 "And if you come here with any more of your insults, 
 remember, this isn't a circumstance to what you'll 
 get!" 
 
 " I only repeaded about your sthep-seester what I 
 haf hearn tell from feefty beoples," snuffled Heldt. 
 
 " Go tell them they're every one a blasted set of 
 liars," shouted Syd. " The heavens will fall before / 
 buy this farm or any other with Lele Fairfax's money." 
 
 " Huh !" said Heldt, in a tone not calculated to 
 soothe, as he was leaving. Syd caught him by the 
 collar and shook him like a rat. 
 
 " Now look here," he said, in that even tone which 
 had been known to subdue even Jennie in her worst 
 moods ; " you'll not move a step until you've promised 
 me that you'll knock the teeth down the throat of the 
 first fellow who dares to mention in your presence that 
 I have any designs on Lele's money. You hear?" 
 
 " Yah, yah ! " gasped the choking sufferer.
 
 A SET-TO AND A SET-BACK. 295 
 
 " See you don't forget it, then," said Syd, relaxing 
 his hold. 
 
 "All ride, all ride," said Heldt, grabbing for his 
 jacket and hat. " Und if I effer set foot on t'is blace 
 again, you may shoot me for a rabbit." 
 
 " I don't think we should miss it much," said Syd, 
 turning on his heel. Heldt, gesticulating and mutter- 
 ing " Gol darn ! " at every step, started for home, leav- 
 ing his dog, which, probably, through loyalty to its 
 master, had been having quite a row with Clem's pup. 
 Syd gave the creature an admonitory kick in passing, 
 and it turned on him with a growl. 
 
 " Go home ! " shouted Syd, in a tone that would 
 have startled a dog of brass. 
 
 The next moment something went through the 
 fence like a bullet. It was Heldt's cur, an animal that 
 ever afterward kept a respectful distance between him- 
 self and the Fairfax farm. 
 
 As for Syd his day, that had dawned so full of 
 promise, was spoiled. The episode had rendered him 
 uncompanionable to the last degree. And by evening 
 a grim resolve had been formed. Lele, burdened as 
 she was with her troublesome money, was not for him 
 that was certain. The Ridge people must have gos- 
 siped horribly, or such a slow coach as old Heldt would 
 never have " caught on." And he had been discussed 
 by a great many people, no doubt surely not fifty, 
 but enough to convince Syd that he was being ridiculed 
 and condemned by most of the community. 
 
 Syd abhorred ridicule above all things, and longed
 
 296 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 to be commended, by right-minded people, for doing 
 right. Try as he would he could not imagine a mar- 
 riage with Lele in any light that seemed commendable. 
 She would be throwing herself away. And how 
 unwise it must appear, to cooler heads, for a young 
 man to obligate himself to care for a family of his 
 own, when his mother's children were still, and would 
 be for years to come, dependent upon him. He simply 
 could not do it. He must have been mad when he 
 dared think of it last night.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 
 
 " If it would only, only rain ! " said Jennie, for the 
 hundredth time. 
 
 The drought had lasted so long that her eyes ached 
 as badly as her heart by reason of looking for clouds 
 that never came, or, if they did come, ended in sound 
 and bluster, as did the one on the previous night, 
 accompanied by little or no reviving moisture. 
 
 By 8 o'clock on the morning succeeding the storm 
 all traces of the night's shower had vanished. The 
 stock penned up by Mr. Heldt had returned to their 
 usual feeding ground. 
 
 It had become an added source of discouragement 
 to look each night for a " bank in the west," or at sun- 
 rise for the sun " drawing water," in hopes that the 
 long-looked-for rain would materialize. 
 
 Jennie had anxiously watched for the new moon as 
 a harbinger of approaching showers ; but, no ! the silver 
 horn hung straight from its upper point as though 
 nailed to a star, empty as a silver platter. She knew 
 then that little or no rain could be expected during 
 the month and a prolonged drought at this season 
 meant ruin. As it was, everything was drying up. 
 The pole beans were dying, their blossoms not devel- 
 
 (297)
 
 298 THE MAX WITH Till-: HOE. 
 
 cping a single bean. The cucumbers were curling into 
 little yellow crescents, hanging downwards from the 
 vines in ludicrous imitation of the treacherous, dis- 
 appointing moon. The tomatoes lay sprawling over 
 the ground, with their smooth surfaces blistered and 
 blackened by the torrid sun. In the faint, hot breezes 
 the young corn blades curled and rattled ominously. 
 
 Was there ever such an aggravating expanse of 
 cloudless azure? Jennie, sick with foreboding she 
 knew not what result from the foreclosure of the mort- 
 gage, worked herself into a mood that made cheerful 
 human companionship unbearable. 
 
 " I declare ! " she exclaimed, for the hundredth 
 time, " it's perfectly maddening to see all the clouds 
 go by and never a drop of rain for us." 
 
 " It rained cats an' dogs at Si Collins's last night," 
 said Charlie, coming in with a rush, impatient for his 
 dinner. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Jean, enviously. " It 
 always docs, to hear him tell it. He thinks it will make 
 us feel bad. Who told you?" 
 
 " Sam Cahill reported that it rained two brindled 
 cats and one stray dog with a tin-can attachment," said 
 Charlie, seriously, while Cora and Tude laughed. 
 
 " I don't call that much of a witticism," said Jennie, 
 crossly. 
 
 " I'll admit it was dry fun," said Charlie. " Let's 
 have some jam for supper, Jinsey. please." 
 
 " Keep still," said Jennie, shortly.
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 2QO, 
 
 " I'm not cut out for the unclertakin' biz," said 
 Charlie. 
 
 " You're cut out to be the awfulest nuisance that 
 ever lived," said Jennie. 
 
 " I know you would gladly trade me off for the 
 gout if you could," said Charlie. " Tell you what, Jen 
 suppose you swap me for Mr. Markley. I'll war- 
 rant he wouldn't crack one joke at your expense in ten 
 years." 
 
 Jennie walked disdainfully into the kitchen. 
 
 "He'd never regret the bargain but once!" said 
 Charlie, sotto voce. 
 
 " Fretting won't do any good," he presently heard 
 Lele saying, in an effort to cheer Jennie up. 
 
 " You never fret, of course." 
 
 " Not if I can help it. Jennie dear, don't you think 
 it wrong to worry so much about things you can't help ? 
 It's so much easier to do one's duty and leave every- 
 thing to God. Think how much better it would be to 
 take the weather as it comes, knowing that it is ruled 
 by fixed laws over which our wills and wishes have no 
 power." 
 
 " I might if I were an altogether different person, 
 and if the weather had no effect whatever on my bank 
 account. Advice is cheap." 
 
 " Going at cost," Charlie interpolated. 
 
 " It's something one never gets too little of in this 
 world. It's well there's something plenty and gratis, 
 or I don't know what would become of us poor 
 wretches "
 
 3OO THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Who have lived to be nineteen, goin' on twenty, 
 without getting ' Mrs.' attached to our name," said 
 Charlie, through the keyhole. 
 
 Jennie turned angrily away, but Lele took up her 
 cause. 
 
 " Don't, Charlie," she said. 
 
 " I know she hates to be teased about her age," said 
 Charlie. " You're getting on in years yourself, Lele," 
 he added, turning his guns on her. 
 
 " Yes, I'll soon be twenty-one," said Lele, serenely. 
 " Getting to be quite an old maid, you see." 
 
 "You'll never be an old maid," said Charlie, with 
 conviction. " ' You're the sweetest girl in all the 
 world.' " And he went out on the porch singing at the 
 top of his voice snatches of " Paradise Alley " that he 
 thought applicable to Lele. 
 
 Jennie felt angry with him, herself and the world 
 in general. If it would only rain, now while it would 
 do the crops some good, she felt that she could endure 
 even Charlie better, and Charlie was one of the chief 
 trials of her life. With a great, delightful downpour 
 of rain she felt that she could for once set all ills at 
 defiance, and be for a time, at least, as sweet and sunny 
 as even Lele herself. 
 
 Syd ate his dinner in silence. His brow was still 
 contracted. It was evident that the quarrel with Heldt 
 had left him in no gentle mood. There was not so 
 much as a glance for Lele. 
 
 A hot, sultry afternoon succeeded. The heat in the 
 sun was intolerable. Even in the great, breezv hall
 
 THE; MAN AND THE HOE. 301 
 
 of the old farmhouse there was little comfort. Cora 
 and Tude were asleep ; Mr. Fairfax ditto. The boys 
 were in the fields ; Lele was writing letters. 
 
 Rain or shine, there were seasons of rest and quiet 
 for every one about the house excepting restless, tireless 
 Jennie. Her mood even now was out of unison with 
 the brooding stillness of the hour. Not a sound broke 
 the hot stillness except the monotonous hum of the 
 sewing-machine, where Jen at a terrific rate of speed 
 was seeking to uncork some of her fiery energy and 
 pent-up discontent. Life was, just now, a very bitter 
 pill to poor Jen. 
 
 The clock struck 3. Jennie put her work aside 
 and went out to the field to take the boys a drink. 
 They were resting in the shade, looking limp and worn 
 with fatigue and heat. Syd had thrown himself down 
 on the long grass under a huge walnut tree a little 
 apart from the rest. Jen went to him last and sat 
 down by his side. He was lying face downward, with 
 his head on his folded arms, his hat tossed aside on the 
 daisy-spangled turf. His attitude somehow betokened 
 despondency in an unusual degree. 
 
 " Syd, what ails you ?" she asked, and her voice 
 sounded as unmusical in her ears as the caw of that 
 crow flying with slow-flapping wings over the distant 
 corn-field. She wondered if this life were real, or 
 only a dream, from which she should presently awaken. 
 
 " Syd ! " she repeated when there was no reply. 
 
 " You're always fancying something," he now 
 replied, curtly. " It's a disagreeable habit."
 
 362 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Everything I do is disagreeable," said Jennie, 
 sadly. She felt like a hideous blot on the face of 
 Nature, and wished herself dead. 
 
 "Jinsey, I didn't mean that, really." He raised 
 himself on one elbow and looked at her not unkindly. 
 " But it's hard enough to keep up appearances at home 
 without being followed to the field and every change 
 of countenance noted." 
 
 "And what new troubles have you on your mind?" 
 
 " I am not a Catholic, Jennie. I do not require a 
 father-confessor, thank yon." 
 
 " If it's Lele Fairfax you are grieving over, you 
 might marry her any day if it were not for your foolish 
 pride." 
 
 "A trite subject long since worn threadbare. I 
 thought I forebade you mentioning it again." 
 
 " There's no use " began Jennie. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Jean. Will you leave me, or 
 shall I leave you?" 
 
 " I shall leave you," said Jean, rising. " But I 
 v/ouldn't grieve over anybody as you do over her if 
 I could help myself." 
 
 "You don't grieve over anybody, of course." 
 
 " Yes, I do," haughtily truthful. " But I can't help 
 myself as you can." 
 
 " I guess it would only be pride that would keep 
 either of us silent. It amounts to the same thing." 
 He sprang to his feet and turned to resume his work. 
 " Thank you for bringing the water, Jinsey," he added,
 
 TH MAN AND THE HOE;. 363 
 
 kindly ; " but my moods must never be commented 
 on, remember." 
 
 Jennie returned slowly to the house, going up 
 through the orchard, where ripe red apples were drop- 
 ping in the grass, unheeded by the pile of spotted pig3 
 that lay snoozing in the fence corner. Jennie thought 
 they looked very happy. She half wished she were one 
 of them, and could presently be transformed into use- 
 ful, harmless bacon, instead of growing into hardened, 
 embittered old age, and finally, perhaps, enter into eter- 
 nal torment. Why were the lower animals exempted 
 from future punishment? Why couldn't they have 
 souls, too? What were souls, anyhow? Jen wished 
 that she had been born a briar or a nettle, instead of an 
 ill-tempered, dissatisfied, ambitious girl, with all the 
 sins of tongue and brain to be atoned for bye-and-bye. 
 If she must be a human being, why shouldn't she have 
 been created with Lele's sunny temperament sweet 
 Lele, who could so completely mask her real feeling3 
 under a smiling exterior that even Syd felt convinced 
 that she regarded him as a favorite relative merely, 
 and not as a lover. 
 
 A cloud of witnesses could scarce have convinced 
 Jennie that Lele was at that moment almost as miser- 
 able as herself. 
 
 The variableness of Syd's moods would have puz- 
 zled any one ; at times they amazed Lele, and never 
 more than the contrast between his manner the previous 
 evening and that of to-day. It really piqued her to
 
 304 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 know that a quarrel with an ignorant Pennsylvania 
 Dutch farmer should make Sycl so superlatively unap- 
 proachable. (She did not know the real cause of the 
 fight.) 
 
 " Could I live with a man who gets sulky over 
 things that occur away from home and won't speak 
 when he comes to the house?" she thought. "Ward 
 would never do that, I know." 
 
 She abandoned her letter-writing and went out for 
 a walk, going out to the orchard just after Jennie 
 came to the house. Presently she found herself near 
 the barn. The doors stood invitingly open, and white 
 pigeons and swallows were flying in and out. The air 
 was so sweet with the fragrance of clover hay that 
 Lele was tempted to enter and seek to divest her mind 
 of various reflections of a disquieting nature by rum- 
 maging for hens' nests in the mows. The search was 
 perfectly bootless, though hens with their heads tilted 
 defiantly back were cackling loudly in the barnyard. 
 
 At last, warm and listless, she sat down on one 
 of the low mows to rest and think. Deeper and deeper 
 she sank in the odorous billows of hay, and before she 
 was aware that drowsiness was stealing her senses 
 away, she was in the land of dreams. It seemed that 
 the old log mows, with the oaken threshing floor 
 between, and the dim, black rafters and cooing pigeons 
 overhead, had scarcely faded into visions of gently- 
 flowing brooks, wide meadows and green valleys dotted 
 with milk-white sheep, when she awoke with a start.
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 305 
 
 to find little Clem sitting beside her, fanning her with 
 his wide straw hat. 
 
 " Why, Clem, where did you come from ? " she 
 asked, starting up. 
 
 " Syd sent me in f r a hoe. He broke his, 'n if I 
 don't hurry back, he'll give me Hail Columbia." 
 
 " Beg pardon," said Lele, with a mystified look. 
 
 " Hail Columbia," repeated Clem. " Syd's sharply 
 off on his temper to-day," he added, using one of his 
 father's pet expressions. 
 
 " I wonder why." Ah ! she did wonder why. 
 
 " I don't know 'xactly. I think it was his fuss with 
 Heldt. You ought to have seen, Lele, how he wiped 
 up the ground with the old coot. Syd's a customer 
 when he gets waked up that you don't want to fool 
 with mor'n once. He's worse'n Jin. She can waltz 
 all 'round him with her lip, but words don't raise no 
 welts. Dear! There he comes after me. Guess I'll 
 hide in the orchard. I need a few apples to build me 
 up anyhow. It's too tarnation hot to work." 
 
 Syd came in with the air of a constable in search 
 of a culprit. With his rough, patched clothes, cowhide 
 shoes and broad-brimmed straw hat, he would have 
 made, just then, a splendid model for a statue of 
 " Toil." The white-robed figure in the hay-mow 
 looked up somewhat apprehensively. He was scowl- 
 ing when he came in, and though he started and 
 changed color, his brow did not unbend at sight of 
 her. 
 
 "Where's Clem?" he asked, abruptly. He was 
 (20)
 
 306 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 actually afraid to look at Lele, whom he felt he had 
 given up forever. Horses would not have dragged 
 him, unresisting, into her presence just at that time. 
 
 " Clem has gone to hide," said Lele, demurely. 
 Syd's brow relaxed as their eyes met, and the mag- 
 netism of her presence drew him to her side. 
 
 " What's the odds ?" he thought. " There's not a 
 cloud in the sky, and I'm insured against everything 
 except thunder storms and gorillas ! ' 
 
 He sat down on the edge of the mow and fanned 
 himself with his hat, fumbling with his collar, which 
 was choking him. 
 
 " This infernal weather is killing me," he burst out. 
 " Excuse me, Lele. I'm so cross and irritable that I'm 
 not fit to oversee these troublesome, lazy boys. They 
 have the true philosophy, though, for they see it's no 
 use to do anything this weather, and I don't. A hoe 
 bounces off the clods like a rubber ball. It's mad- 
 dening." 
 
 " Things will come out all right, I hope," said Lele. 
 
 " No, they won't come out all right," said Syd, with 
 a burning blush. " If I thought they would, I'd hardly 
 be risking a stiff neck in trying to avoid looking at 
 Lele," he thought. " Is there any place she could be 
 where she wouldn't appear sweeter than oh, hang 
 it! I wish I'd stayed in the field." 
 
 " I've been fancying all along that I was keeping 
 myself afloat," Syd remarked aloud, " and that I should 
 finally swim through my sea of troubles, and succeed, 
 as it were, in towing the rest of the family ashore.
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 307 
 
 By Jove ! it would have been easier for Noah to beach 
 the ark. Fancy that old gentleman splashing through 
 the water with the gopher-wood canoe, all humanity 
 and the animal kingdom at his heels, and you'll know 
 just how I feel." 
 
 The roof rang with peals of girlish laughter, and 
 Syd felt relieved. It had not, for some time, occurred 
 to him to turn his woes into ridicule. It was safer, 
 when he talked with her, and he wished he could keep 
 it up. But Lele, after laughing a moment, became 
 serious. 
 
 "Jokes aside, I know just how you feel, with the 
 drought and all to depress you," said Lele. " I surely 
 ought to find some way to help you "- 
 
 " Help me ? No ! You can't !" A look com- 
 pounded of shame and anger crossed his face. " Never 
 mention it again." 
 
 Lele was a little startled at his vehemence, but she 
 persisted : 
 
 " If I can't find a school anywhere, I might open 
 a milliner shop or be a dressmaker," she mused. 
 
 " No Fairfax ever did such a thing as that. It 
 couldn't be thought of." 
 
 " I'm not one of you, after all," said Lele, wistfully. 
 " I never shall be looked upon as a member of the 
 Fairfax family." 
 
 " Not, I trust," said Syd, with drooping head, 
 " until times are different here. You are not like us, 
 Lele. You have not been soured and embittered by 
 unsuccessful farming. And you never shall be ! "
 
 308 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Lele sat with downcast lashes and fast-beating 
 heart. 
 
 Syd had been thinking for hours that he ought to 
 offer some explanation for his lack of discretion during 
 the thunder storm. She ought at least to know how 
 utterly out of the question was matrimony for such 
 as he. 
 
 " If I were free to live just as I pleased," he said, 
 " I am sure I should never choose a 'single life. I am 
 a very domestic character, I think. But life for me, 
 as for so many men who begin with small capitals and 
 large responsibilities, will probably be one continuous 
 struggle, which it would not be right to ask any woman 
 to share. I do not think there can be much brightness 
 in such a future as mine, and if my past is a fair sam- 
 ple of what is to come, I candidly hope it will not last 
 a great many years. We are not put in this world for 
 the mere pleasure that we may get out of life, of course, 
 but to perform some special duty, I suppose. I see 
 clearly what mine is, and none but a coward would try 
 to shirk it. My promise to my dead mother must be 
 kept." 
 
 He was half reclining on the log that formed the 
 side of the mow next the threshing-floor, his chin on 
 his hand, the somber, dark-gray eyes uplifted and 
 gazing at her dispassionately. 
 
 The flush of coming tears spread over Lele's face. 
 
 " Don't cry, Lele. I really can't bear it,' said the 
 big fellow, unsteadily. " But as I've always said, your
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 309 
 
 happiness depends upon leaving here. You'll be 
 wretched if you stay." 
 
 " It won't add any to my happiness to go back to 
 St. Louis." 
 
 " I had forgotten Ward," said Syd, biting his lips. 
 
 " I detest giggling men, as you know," retorted 
 Lele. "And it would be my greatest pleasure," she 
 added, almost inaudibly, "to keep some people in a 
 good humor." 
 
 Syd grew deadly pale. He realized, as never 
 before, how near she was to him, how easily he might 
 win her. And her money, which he had so coveted, 
 would come to him after all ! Everything that now 
 seemed so awry could be righted. He could purchase 
 the farm, run it to suit himself, be prosperous, die a 
 rich man ; and with it all he need not break his promise 
 to his mother. Lele would help him in every way. 
 But who would ever believe that he had married her 
 for love? What would Heldt and Ed and everybody 
 think of him? Why, he wouldn't, after the scene he 
 had made this morning, have the respect or confidence 
 of even Teddy Grimes! Marriage with Lele Fairfax 
 was the one thing in the whole category of possibilities 
 that never could become an actual fact. His fight 
 with Heldt had settled that forever. With great bitter- 
 ness his mind reverted to an implement which seemed 
 to him at that moment a fitting emblem of disappoint- 
 ment and degradation. 
 
 " I had forgotten," he exclaimed, starting up as 
 though his work had all along been uppermost on his
 
 3IO THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 mind and must no longer be neglected, " I came for 
 a hoe." 
 
 Procuring one in the tool-room at the end of the 
 barn, he came back with a very dogged look on his 
 face. - 
 
 " Lele, you see this implement," he said, holding 
 the hoe at arm's length. " It is the emblem of a very 
 hard, very discouraging, very narrowing business. I 
 do not think any man with no capital, who expects 
 to make his living by the hoe, has a right to marry." 
 
 "And yet you mean to keep on farming! " 
 
 " I must, since it is the only trade I have ever had 
 a chance to learn. I used to crave an education that 
 would fit me for a professional life, but lack of funds 
 made it impossible. I know nothing now but how to 
 wield the hoe." 
 
 He spoke with great bitterness. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me, Lele," he went on. " It 
 is not farming that I dislike, but unsuccessful farm- 
 ing ; ' not labor, but the degradation of labor.' I love 
 outdoor life, and especially the free life on the farm 
 with your favorite animals about you. No one loves 
 Nature better than I do, or horses, or the sight of 
 green things growing. I do not think successful farm- 
 ing would be a hard life for any one. It suits me after 
 all, far better than a profession that would keep me 
 indoors. To be a really independent farmer is what 
 I should prefer above everything. And I mean to be 
 one yet, if I live long enough.' 1 
 
 He smiled with ill-feigned hopefulness, (which sent
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 3! I 
 
 a dagger of pain through his listener's heart,) and 
 swung the hoe over his shoulder. A moment later he 
 was out in the hot sunshine, had crossed the barnyard 
 fence and was going swiftly down the meadow over 
 the crisp, brown stubble. A covey of young quails fled 
 in a dozen directions through the weeds at his 
 approach. Syd neither saw nor heard them. His eyes 
 were full of tears, and it did not cheer him much to 
 know that the girl he had left in the barn was crying, 
 
 too. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The day, which had been so intolerably sultry, drew 
 to a close ; and again thunder-heads peered above the 
 horizon and dark clouds began to mount into the serene 
 sky. 
 
 " We're going to have rain to-night," said Lele, 
 confidently; " father says the wind is just right for it. 
 And didn't you hear the raincrow this morning?" 
 
 " I don't look for any rain," said Jennie, in a dis- 
 couraged tone. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Just because everybody else hasn't been supplied," 
 said Jennie, bitterly. " We never get anything, even 
 rain, unless there's more than enough to go around ! " 
 
 But about supper-time the rain came sure enough, 
 driving the drenched boys into the kitchen, which was 
 also dripping. The roof, already leaky, had been ren- 
 dered ten times worse by the protracted drouth. The 
 shingles had been so warped and twisted that the rain
 
 312 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 came down in gallons, necessitating the use of pans, 
 kettles and buckets to catch the descending torrent. 
 The water, too, ran down the stove-pipe in a stream, 
 and the wind drove it under the door. To make mat- 
 ters worse, each of the boys had carried in a generous 
 supply of mud on his feet, which mingled with the 
 water on the floor. 
 
 Harder and harder poured the rain, as Jennie strug- 
 gled about among the pans, kettles and restless feet, 
 trying to get supper, for which the hungry boys were 
 clamoring. She did not feel quite so thankful for the 
 rain as she had expected, and everything was conspir- 
 ing to try her temper. 
 
 After the rain she took a half-bushel feed-basket 
 and waded out in search of the young chickens, which, 
 lacking proper shelter, had huddled in wet, shivering 
 heaps at the roots of shrubs and bushes. Many were 
 drowned; the rest Jennie carried in and put into tubs 
 of warm water, where the more hopeful presently 
 revived. 
 
 " What a fine rain we have had ! " said Lele, assist- 
 ing her, " and the brightest rainbow I ever saw. Did 
 you notice it?" 
 
 "No," said Jennie, shortly. Three of her flood 
 sufferers had just expired. 
 
 " Do run out and have a glimpse of it while I attend 
 your patients," pleaded Lele. 
 
 " Look at a rainbow while my fries are drowning ! " 
 exclaimed practical Jennie.
 
 THE MAN AND THE HOE. 313 
 
 " It would take but a minute, Jennie clear ; and Na- 
 ture is so tranquillizing." 
 
 " Well," said Jennie, transferring a dozen of her 
 most hopeful patients to a flannel-lined basket, " if 
 everybody had such a time when it rains as / do what 
 with the leaks and mud and drowned chickens it 
 would take more than a rainbow to tranquillize 'em, 
 I guess."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 
 
 " Isn't this the sweetest, coolest, most delightful old 
 hall you ever saw ! " 
 
 Jennie was, as usual, at her mending basket, and 
 Lele looking, as her step-sister thought, " good enough 
 to eat," in her white dress and pink ribbons, was trip- 
 ping down the stairs. 
 
 " It's comfortable enough when there's a breeze," 
 said Jennie, conservatively. 
 
 " Comfortable wouldn't spell it," said Lele, with her 
 delicious laugh. " Let me help you, my dear, and let's 
 talk." 
 
 "All right. What shall be our subject?" asked Jen- 
 nie, beginning to brighten up a little. 
 
 "Farming,' said Lele, soberly. "Do you like it?" 
 
 " I have my head full of so many things," sighed 
 Jennie, ' that farming too often seems a drag. But 
 if one could have most of the hardest work done. I 
 believe I should not object to a farmer's life. You've 
 got to be mistress of the situation before you can get 
 much pleasure out of it, though." 
 
 "Are you always so busy as you have been since 
 I've been here?" asked Lele, thoughtfully.
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 315 
 
 "Always except in mid-winter, and it isn't much 
 better then, really, for I have all the sewing and mend- 
 ing to do. From New Year to Christmas I hardly 
 ever see an hour that I can call my own. It is almost 
 out of the question for me to find any time for reading." 
 
 "And are most farmers' wives and daughters so 
 busy and so defrauded of leisure time for rest and 
 recreation ?" 
 
 " I think so. Even Mrs. St. John complains that 
 she is worked to death, and the St. Johns are pretty 
 well heeled." 
 
 Lele gazed out of the door absently. 
 
 " It doesn't seem the life I should choose," she said, 
 dreamily. " I mean to be so busy. I would under- 
 take less and so have more leisure to enjoy what I 
 had." 
 
 " There is just one continuous round of duties to 
 be performed by somebody. And if you don't keep 
 help, you've got to attend to them yourself." 
 
 " I should keep help," said Lele, decidedly. 
 
 " Probably yon might, but I can't afford it, and 
 Cora is so slow and dilatory that she assists me very 
 little. If I live here fifty years, I don't suppose my 
 work will change much." 
 
 " But wouldn't love sweeten labor ?" Lele ven- 
 tured. 
 
 " I suppose some kinds might : but playing elder 
 sister to such boys as Ed and Clem and Charlie isn't 
 particularly sweetening."
 
 316 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Poor, misguided Ed ! " sighed Lele. " Can't you 
 help me to win him to better ways, Jennie?'' 
 
 " I'm afraid not. I never in my life could do any- 
 thing with him. Have you ever read ' Looking Back- 
 ward ' ?" 
 
 The conversation drifted to books, and Lele saw 
 for the first time how congenial were their tastes in 
 regard to literature. 
 
 " I thought you had no time to read, and that you 
 didn't care for books," said Lele, presently ; " but I 
 find you do, after all." 
 
 " I do care for them," said Jennie, contritely, " and 
 the only reason I said what I did was because an evil 
 spirit possessed me. I'm so ashamed of the way I've 
 treated you that I can hardly look up sometimes. 
 Instead of doing me any good," she added, with crim- 
 son cheeks and downcast eyes, " it only added another 
 to my long list of discomforts. I should be so much 
 I do not say happier, but less unhappy if I had 
 always treated you as I should," and two great tears 
 splashed on the torn sleeve she was mending. 
 
 " Never mind, Jinsey. Don't mind it, dear," said 
 Lele, going up to Jennie and passing her arm around 
 the girl's neck. " I don't blame you at all for feeling 
 toward me as you did. But I'm more thankful than 
 I can say that the hard feelings are all gone. Jennie, 
 you don't know how empty my heart was when I came 
 here how I longed for the love of brothers and sis- 
 ters." The sweet voice faltered, and when she laid
 
 A VACANT CHAI.R. 317 
 
 her face against Jennie's there were tears on both their 
 cheeks. 
 
 " How you must have felt ! " sobbed Jennie. 
 
 " I did feel awfully bad," said Lele, making an 
 effort to recover her spirits. " I haven't much ambi- 
 tion or longing for fame, but I wish to be loved. I'd 
 rather have you all love me than be the author of the 
 most popular book ever written." 
 
 " Really ?" said Jean, quite unconsciously using one 
 of Syd's phrases, and thereby thrilling her auditor's 
 heart to its core. 
 
 " Is there anything, next to a hope of heaven, more 
 precious than a h than domestic happiness?" Lele 
 faltered again. The end of the sentence was almost 
 inaudible. " Nothing," she went on, more audibly, 
 " would make me so happy as to be one of you for life 
 a real sharer of all your burdens." . 
 
 "And could you endure to spend the rest of your 
 days on a mortgaged farm?" 
 
 " If you all loved and trusted me yes." 
 
 " Lele, we do love and trust you all of us ! " said 
 Jennie, clinging to her new-found friend. 
 
 The two girls with their arms around each other 
 presented a very attractive contrast one so fair, so 
 delicate in her coloring, so pure in contour and dress ; 
 the other dark, glowing and passionate, with a new 
 and wonderful charm in her great, dark eyes and 
 uplifted face. 
 
 " Lele, you're the sweetest girl I ever saw," said
 
 318 THE; MAN WITH THE; HOE. 
 
 Jennie, presently. " No wonder people love you. If 
 you had come to live with us sooner, some of us might 
 have come to be like you, in spite of our troubles. And 
 you've taught me this: that it is woman's best and 
 most natural right to be as lovable and attractive as she 
 can, and not to repel everybody by fretting and scold- 
 ing. Oh, how different life might have been for us 
 all the last two years if I had taken mamma's advice 
 and tried to curb my wicked temper. Young as I am, 
 these besetting sins of mine have left marks on my 
 character that no time can ever efface. And all, all 
 to no purpose. I can not think of a single cross word 
 or look of mine that did not make matters worse instead 
 of better. Cora is right after all. She will make all 
 the better woman for her easy-going ways. And as 
 for you everything around you seems full of sun- 
 shine. I am only a blot, a shadow, with everything to 
 unlearn." 
 
 Her head sank, and the despondent look so char- 
 acteristic of Syd came into her downcast face. Lele 
 kissed her as much for her brother's sake as for her 
 own, but with a genuine longing to comfort both. 
 
 " Don't exaggerate, Jinsey," said she. '' I know 
 you've had hard things to endure for one of your pro- 
 gressive nature. On the other hand, I've had my good 
 times, and it won't hurt me to ' rough it ' a litt!e. 
 I am not an ambitious person, as you know. I hope 
 to do some good in my humble way, but shall expect 
 to elevate but a small portion of this old globe. You'd 
 lift the whole earth if you could, wouldn't you?"
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 319 
 
 " I couldn't die in peace unless I had done some- 
 thing for the world. I've never had an opportunity 
 yet." 
 
 " Is there a greater work than the training of the 
 Nation's sons? Think of the four under this roof 
 whom you may yet influence to become grand men ! " 
 
 Jennie sighed when she thought how this work had 
 been neglected ; until now her influence was worse than 
 nothing with any of them. 
 
 " I see at last what a selfish life I have lived," she 
 said. " I was always thinking of myself, never of 
 others ; always reflecting on my wasted time, ' on my 
 youth going from me unimproved and joyless' on 
 my utter inability to obtain an education, or be any- 
 thing better than a kitchen drudge." 
 
 " You are young yet, Jinsey ; you shall have oppor- 
 tunities. I'll see that you have." 
 
 " No ; I'll never have any educational opportunities 
 now," said Jennie, sadly. " I've outlived most of my 
 dreams. I shall " 
 
 " Have lots of happiness yet, Jinsey. Let me see 
 your hand. Just as I thought a triple bracelet ! 
 Why, your later days are going to be crowned with 
 all sorts of coveted blessings." 
 
 During these days Ed had been growing more 
 and more discontented and discouraged. Lele had 
 many long talks with him the Christian girl with the 
 passionate, impulsive and yet weak boy, asking him to 
 seek help from the One whom she herself found so
 
 32O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 comforting, so helpful. But he pushed it all aside as 
 cant. Religion, he declared, was " no good " in his 
 case, and would be no good as long as he had to 
 remain in the situation he was. 
 
 "And as to staying here much longer," he declared, 
 " to be a mere pack-horse for gentlemen farmers 
 by Vum ! I won't." 
 
 " But for the present," Lele urged, " when every- 
 thing is in such a sad state of uncertainty " 
 
 " Things have been in a dinged sad state this long 
 while," Ed interrupted, " an' are likely to keep on 
 melancholy for Lord knows how long. I've had about 
 enough of it, please Moses, and want to see a new 
 wrinkle in the curtain." 
 
 Lele once more appealed to her father on Ed's 
 behalf, but to no purpose. 
 
 " Ed has been a great deal worse since you began 
 instilling these impractical ideas into him than he ever 
 was before," he said, impatiently. " Syd, as I've told 
 you, was once as discontented and unmanageable as 
 Ed is now. But by keeping him under and making 
 him see his place, he got over it and settled down as 
 I intended. Ed will have to come to it, too." 
 
 " But, father, what if he becomes hopelessly dis- 
 sipated?" faltered Lele. 
 
 " Pooh ! A boy with empty pockets won't venture 
 far or indulge in much dissipation." 
 
 "Boys rendered desperate by parental injustice are 
 often tempted to steal or forge notes."
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 321 
 
 Mr. Fairfax laid down the newspaper he had been 
 reading, and an angry flush rose to his brow. 
 
 "Lelia!" he exclaimed, in a tone that she had not 
 before heard him use, " if I hear any more of this talk, 
 I'll cease to converse with you on any subject. I pos- 
 itively forbid you to mention Ed's name to me again." 
 
 Thoroughly discouraged, she was compelled to 
 report to Ed that her father had not only forbidden her 
 to loan him money for the purpose of learning a trade, 
 but had vetoed any further discussion of the subject. 
 Meanwhile he must be patient until his majority, when 
 rte would be free to choose for himself, and could rely 
 on her for help. 
 
 Ed took it so quietly that she thought he had given 
 up all thoughts of going away ; but the next morning 
 his place at the breakfast table was vacant, and investi- 
 gation showed that he had not been in his room over 
 night. 
 
 It was the day appointed for wheat-threshing, and 
 Jennie felt very much worried over his non-appear- 
 ance ; but Charlie attempted to banish all fears by 
 asserting that " it was just like Ed to slope when there 
 was a big pull ahead, and come back when there was 
 a prospect of a level stretch." 
 
 Syd did not attach much importance to the incident 
 of his non-appearance, as he knew Ed was in the habit 
 of playing cards all night in some of the neighbors' 
 barns, coming home late in the day. His father, 
 though ignorant of these escapades, was also not very 
 
 (21)
 
 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 apprehensive, as he supposed Ed was trying the effect 
 of a temporary absence in bringing him to terms. 
 
 The morning was a very busy one, for with twenty 
 men to cook for, there was little time to think of any- 
 thing save tanner. By sunrise the machine, which had 
 " pulled in " the night before, was whistling, and men 
 from the surrounding farms kept coming in, pitchforks 
 in hand. They were a motley, grimy crew when the 
 signal came to " turn out " at noon and the march din- 
 ner-ward began. Jennie had performed " prodigies of 
 valor " in getting up that threshing dinner, as it was 
 likely to be the last in the old home. Huge platters 
 of roast beef and fried chickens were passed around. 
 together with steaming dishes of potatoes, succotash. 
 cabbage, and stewed corn. Pies by the dozen were 
 scattered over the long tables, interspersed with plates 
 of cookies, gingerbread and sliced pound-cake. And 
 every convenient nook accommodated either preserves, 
 jelly or pickles. The men ate ravenously, joking each 
 other on the amount of appetite displayed, and wash- 
 ing down the toothsome viands with large draughts of 
 steaming coffee. It kept all the girls busy replenishing 
 cups and plates, and in a very short time the piled-up 
 dishes were empty. Then the men filed out. laughing 
 uproariously at the appetite of the last to leave, and the 
 " thrashin' dinner " was over. 
 
 " They'll not be here for supper if we have luck." 
 Syd said. " The machine is thrashing at the rate of 
 a thousand bushels a day. We'll not have the half 
 of that."
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 323 
 
 " How is it turning out ?" asked Jennie, anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, middlin'. Not as well, quite, as I expected. 
 Si Collins had six hundred bushels." 
 
 ( " Owin' to the fly an' the winter freezin' out, an' 
 bein' rooted by hogs, trampled by cattle and nibbed by 
 sheep," added Charlie aside to Lele, " not to mention 
 the midge and the army worm, chintz bug, rust an' 
 drought, nor the cockle, smut, wild onions, briars, rain 
 after it was cut, sparrows, raincrows, rats and mice. 
 That's what middlin' means, Lele. Poor means that a 
 hail storm has knocked the socks off the whole crop 
 just before cuttin' time.") 
 
 " He always does wonders," Jennie said in re- 
 sponse to Syd's remark. "' Is there much smut ?" 
 
 "Some. And cockle! Whew! Part of it won't 
 hardly be worth cleanin'." He turned back to ask: 
 " Ed got home yet?" 
 
 " Why, no," said Jennie, giving him an odd, half- 
 frightened look. "Hasn't he been at the barn?" 
 
 " Haven't seen him. Where the dickens can he 
 be? When there's nothin' else to bother, it's him. I 
 declare " 
 
 " Hush !" said Jennie, making a little gesture to 
 indicate that Lele was in the next room. Syd looked 
 at her with surprise. It was an ill omen surely to see 
 Jen so still and considerate. A nameless fear grew 
 upon him. 
 
 " Where's Ed?" asked Mr. Fairfax, coming in late 
 to his dinner. He had not cared to dine with the 
 greasy, perspiring threshers.
 
 324 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Dear knows !" said Jennie, with ill-assumed indif- 
 ference, recalling a recent quarrel with Ed. They had 
 not spoken since. And now what if he had killed 
 himself? She rummaged her mind in vain for any 
 memory of kindness she had shown her erring step- 
 brother, notwithstanding her recent determination to 
 do better. 
 
 "He's run off, I suppose," said Mr. Fairfax, glanc- 
 ing keenly at Lele. " Do you know . anything as to 
 his whereabouts ? " he asked her, sharply. 
 
 Lele choked back her tears as she shook her head, 
 and the table having been partially cleared, the family 
 sat down to dine off the threshers' " scraps." 
 
 At 3 o'clock the machine pulled out, the farmers 
 following it, with their pitchforks over their shoulders, 
 to St. John's, where, as it happened, Syd had not 
 exchanged work. So hearing nothing of Ed, he and 
 Mr. Fairfax set out after supper to make some inquiries 
 of people who were most likely to have seen him. But 
 nothing was learned, and at sunset Syd returned alone. 
 As he passed the house, he observed Ward standing 
 outside the lawn gate, with Venus's bridle thrown over 
 his arm, talking with Lele. Venus turned toward Syd 
 with a recognizing whinny and made an attempt to 
 follow him into the lane. 
 
 "Whoa, Ve!" said Ward, jerking the bridle in a 
 way that made Syd tingle with resentment. He had 
 never suffered Venus to be roughly handled when he 
 owned her. She whinnied again pitifully, and turned 
 her soft, full eyes on her former master, as if appealing
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 325 
 
 for protection. Syd caressed her glossy neck with a 
 hand that trembled slightly. His heart was full. 
 
 "Haven't you any news of Ed?" Ward asked, in 
 th"t friendly tone which had been so dear once, but 
 was hateful to him now. 
 
 " None," returned Syd, coldly. " Mr. Fairfax will 
 not return to-night," he added, glancing at Lele. " He 
 stayed at the telegraph office in hopes of obtaining some 
 clue. Have the boys done the feeding yet ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Lele, mechanically, as he 
 rode on. " Jennie can tell you, perhaps." 
 
 " Isn't there something I can do ?" Ward asked, 
 with a boyish longing to help. 
 
 " Nothing whatever," said Syd, curtly, as he opened 
 the gate at the foot of the lane. 
 
 "A regular snub ! " said Ward, reddening. " What 
 have I done?" 
 
 " He's vexed and worried to death. You mus'n't 
 mind him." 
 
 " He was hardly civil to you," Ward went on, more 
 and more aggrieved. " Does he always treat you so ? 
 I seldom see him of late." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Lele, hurriedly. 
 " It occurs to me that he must make himself in- 
 tensely disagreeable if he acts in this way every day." 
 
 " He doesn't ! " Lele colored painfully. " He says 
 very little, but is seldom rude. However, I suppose 
 one!s brother is seldom as civil as somebody else's 
 brother." 
 
 " Syd isn't vour brother at all. Don't vou ever
 
 326 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 think of that? I should think you would both of 
 you." 
 
 " Why should we ?" But she could not meet his 
 glance with her own frank smile, and the color 
 throbbed painfully in her cheeks. It was the first 
 time he had ever seen her show traces of embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 "I didn't apprehend ever be'ng jealous of old 
 Syd," said Ward, astonished. 
 
 " No need of any such apprehension," retorted Lele, 
 recovering her self-control. 
 
 " Thank you," said Ward, gratefully, and very 
 much against her wishes he took her hand. " I say, 
 Lele," coaxingly, " give me my answer before the first 
 of September, won't you ?" 
 
 " I think you have it," said Lele. 
 
 " Not the answer, the only one I can take," he pas- 
 sionately replied. 
 
 He looked so handsome, so completely her ideal of 
 a youthful lover, that Lele absolutely wondered at 
 herself for being so unmoved by his fervor. 
 
 " I don't love you, Ward," said Lele, regretfully. 
 
 " Oh, don't say it, Lele," cried Ward, in a tone of 
 despair. 
 
 " Why do you persist in caring for me " she 
 began. 
 
 " I persist because I can't help it," said Ward, mis- 
 erably. "And it would break my heart to see you 
 marry Syd. He isn't capable of loving you or any 
 woman. Think of his mulish temper ! Why, I haven't
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 327 
 
 any! If you were my wife, I'd strew your path with 
 rose-leaves. You'd never know anything about pov- 
 erty or hard work* ill-temper or anything disagreeable. 
 Our home would be nothing but sunshine. Lele, don't 
 turn away from me. I could make you so happy if 
 you'd only love me*" 
 
 His tone was one of melting tenderness. And Lele 
 wished to be loved ! But not by him. She resolutely 
 maintained a safe distance. 
 
 " Why do you talk to me of these things when I'm 
 so wretched about Ed ?" she said, reproachfully. " I 
 Can't even think of anything now but him. I want 
 you for my good friend always," she said, gently, " and 
 hope to see you married to some one better suited " 
 
 " You shan't give me an out-and-out refusal," cried 
 Ward, interrupting her. " I'll wait till the first of Sep- 
 tember. You surely will change your mind by that 
 time." 
 
 She shook her head sadly, and he went away wish- 
 ing heartily that he had not chosen such an inoppor- 
 tune time for pressing his suit. 
 
 Lele wondered vaguely why she couldn't love the 
 frank, unaffected young fellow who possessed in such 
 a remarkable degree the art of being always agreeable. 
 Why was a glance from Syd more potent to stir her 
 pulses than all Ward's impassioned love-making? 
 
 When she returned to the house, Syd told her all 
 there was to tell ; how people had been questioned, 
 telegrams, sent, etc., without establishing the faintest 
 clue.
 
 328 THlv MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " For my part/ he said, " I don't want him to 
 return at present. It would only lead to a battle be- 
 tween him and his father, and he would be sure to leave 
 home again." 
 
 " Ed was never conquered in his life," said Jennie. 
 " When he was a child, and even when he was bigger 
 than Charlie, I've seen his father whip him until he 
 couldn't speak, and yet if he was asked to give up 
 and promise to do better, he'd shake his head." 
 
 " Did anybody ever try to conquer him by kind- 
 ness?" asked Lele. 
 
 " Mamma was always kind to him," said Cora, " an' 
 even she couldn't do much with him. Oh ! he's a 
 case ! " 
 
 " A hardwood case regular teak," added Charlie, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I've been looking for this ever so long," said 
 Syd. 
 
 " It's been coming on gradually for about eighteen 
 years!" Charlie ended the conversation by remarking. 
 
 *#.#**#* 
 
 Mr. Heldt had not repeated his last call at Fairfax 
 farm, but the next morning he was in one of his 
 fields chasing two of Syd's hogs with his fleet-footed 
 cur when Mr. Mellins came by. The latter called 
 out: 
 
 "Helloa, Heldt! Hear the news?" 
 
 " Vat news ?" 
 
 " Why, Ed Fairfax has run off."
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 329 
 
 " Run off, hey ? Goot riddance off pad rubbish, 
 / say. When he go?" 
 
 " Night before last, I guess. Strange how worth- 
 less he is so different from Syd. He told my boys 
 not long ago that he didn't care what became of him. 
 I shouldn't be much surprised if he's drownded or 
 shot himself. Now I think of it, I heard a pistol shot 
 over in the direction of Hubbard's woods night before 
 last about ten o'clock. If search was made, I shouldn't 
 be a bit surprised if they'd find his body there." 
 
 Mr. Heldt soon after came upon Mr. Si Collins, 
 who was by the roadside with his old clay pipe stuck 
 in one corner of his mouth and his rusty straw hat 
 curled up at the ears, as usual. He was leisurely whet- 
 ting his scythe, for he had been cutting weeds out of 
 the fence-corners, and sang out without stopping work : 
 
 " Hello, Heldt ! Heard anything of Ed Fairfax 
 yet?" 
 
 " Blenty ! " roared the plethoric and slightly deaf 
 German. " Mellins says he kilt hisself a'ready yet." 
 
 "Where, in the plague?" 
 
 " Ofer in Hubbard's woods. By gracious ! I vish 
 dot whole dribe go do likevise," he vociferated. " Dere 
 sthock shoost eat me oop. Ich trive hoks, und cattle, 
 und sheep more as a pound poy, und ven I seek tamages 
 dom dot Seed he knocks me vlat." 
 
 Mr. Collins lost no time in imparting the news to 
 the next neighbor, who had some news of his own to 
 add. The Coroner was notified, and by 10 o'clock the 
 word came to Syd that the dead body of his step-
 
 33O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 brother had been seen in the woods on the north side 
 of his father's farm. 
 
 Syd was thunderstruck. Worried as he had been 
 about Ed, he had not anticipated a tragical ending to 
 the search. 
 
 " I don't believe it," he cried aloud. " Ed never 
 would have killed himself." 
 
 "Here's a man who has just seen a man who saw 
 the body," said Si Collins. " They say he was last seen 
 in a quarrel with one of them pikers, and that he was 
 just about three sheets in the wind. Better not tell 
 your folks till the Coroner comes. The gals'll be for 
 totin' the body home whether er no." 
 
 The girls! Syd thought with a great heart-pang 
 of Lele, and of how she had tried to save Ed and 
 make a man of him ; of the many ways she had used 
 to induce him to go to church and Sunday-school ; of 
 her varied other efforts to humanize the neglected boy 
 and fit him for right living. Through all her futile 
 efforts she had seemed to cherish a genuine love for 
 the erring boy, to which at times he had not wholly 
 failed to respond. Syd's heart stood still when he 
 thought of the shock in store for her. 
 
 " She will hear it best from me," he thought ; " but. 
 oh ! hoiv can I tell her ! " 
 
 He turned and strode straight across the fields, his 
 minds a chaos of contending emotions. In the orchard 
 he came suddenly face to face with Lele. 
 
 Involuntarily they gazed into each other's eyes.
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 33! 
 
 Syd's face was pale to the lips, and there was a look 
 upon it that told her hope was dead. 
 
 " Oh, Syd, what what is it?" she gasped. "Don't 
 tell me Ed is dead." 
 
 "I hope not. I've bad news of him, but it may 
 not be true, I was afraid," he added with difficulty, 
 " that some one else would tell you, and I thought 
 you'd bear it best from me." 
 
 " It is hopeless, then ! " Lele grew pallid and faint. 
 
 " They tell me "^ he came close to her and held 
 her hands in his strong yet gentle clasp " that he has 
 shot himself or been killed in some way over in 
 the woods." 
 
 A great wave of horror swept over her. It was 
 vain then to turn to Syd or any earthly source for 
 help. She sank down on the grass, shaken by great 
 tearless sobs and moaning like a hurt child, unconscious 
 of everything save overwhelming grief for the wrecked 
 life, the lost soul of her unfortunate brother. 
 
 Syd, pierced to the very soul, and hardly conscious 
 of what he was doing, knelt down beside her and took 
 her in his arms. 
 
 " Oh, don't, don't, love 1 Don't grieve BO, dar- 
 ling ! " he pleaded in an agonized voice. " You'fe kill- 
 ing me, I can't bear it. Think what I've got to suffer 
 what remorse, what reproach. Oh, God! to think 
 what I might have done for Ed, and I never did arty- 
 thing never even tried." 
 
 Lele, at this, burst into a passion of tears, but pres-
 
 332 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 ently grew calmer, and turned to comfort Syd, whose 
 face struck her as being the saddest she had ever seen. 
 
 " I doubt not you did the best for him you knew," 
 she said. " Don't look at me so, Syd. It wrings my 
 heart." 
 
 " Lele, do you really believe there is a God ?" 
 
 "My dear brother, how can you doubt it?" 
 
 " If there is anything in God or religion, why 
 couldn't you have saved him ?" 
 
 " I only know that we must not judge the Lord by 
 feeble sense," said Lele, sadly. " His ways are inscrut- 
 able, but ' some time we'll understand.' " 
 
 Another ordeal awaited Syd breaking the news 
 to Jennie and the children. Fairfax Farm had not wit- 
 nessed so sad a day since the death of Lady Rose. 
 Jennie's remorse was particularly poignant. 
 
 " If I only, only could have the last year or two 
 to live over again!" she cried. " Mamma made me 
 promise to be patient with Ed, but I never tried. And 
 now I'll never have a chance to tell him how sorry I 
 am ! " And throwing herself down upon the old hair- 
 cloth sofa in the sitting-room, she indulged in such 
 a passion of grief as one could expect from nobody 
 but her. 
 
 Two hours dragged by. It was noon by the sun- 
 mark, but not the slightest preparation had been made 
 for dinner. The house was quiet as Sunday ; the air 
 soundless ; hot sunshine poured down from a cloudless 
 sky. In sickening suspense the girls waited, expecting
 
 A VACANT CHAIR. 333 
 
 every moment to see a party of men, headed by the 
 Coroner, bringing home Ed's mangled remains. 
 
 The clock struck 12, and as the last echo died away, 
 Tude, who had been on the watch, came running in 
 to announce that the men were coming. 
 
 Instantly the three girls on the back porch burst 
 into tears, and clung to each other sobbing. 
 
 " Don't cry," said Tude, whose large eyes shone 
 with excitement ; " they haven't got him. I guess they 
 haven't found him yet." And she rushed out to meet 
 the father and his boys, who were approaching. 
 
 " Did you find him," father ?" she asked, with the . 
 naive callousness of childhood. None of her sisters 
 could have asked him that. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax shook his head, and Syd came to the 
 porch and told them how, in company with twenty 
 men, they had searched every foot of the woods and 
 found not the slightest trace of a suicide or murder 
 having been committed there. 
 
 " It is useless to believe a word you hear," he added, 
 wearily. " People invent news just to show their im- 
 portance." 
 
 The afternoon at home was, if possible, more agon- 
 izing than the morning. Hours seemed to lengthen 
 into days before the searchers returned with the nega- 
 tive good news that no trace of the lost boy could be 
 found. Further search would undoubtedly be useless, 
 they all decided. Ed was probably alive, but no hopes 
 need be entertained of hearing from him for some days.
 
 334 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 He would certainly not return, or even write, until his 
 father's wrath had had time to cool. 
 
 When Syd went into Ed's room that night to search 
 for any scrap of information as to his intentions, the 
 sight of the wheels and all the litter and debris dear 
 to the young machinist's heart touched him deeply. 
 Something else touched him, too the evident attempt 
 to humanize the squalid sleeping-room Lele's doing, 
 probably ; and the little Bible lying open on the stand 
 Lele's gift. Syd wondered whether Ed had ever 
 read it. On a flyleaf he found the words in Ed's 
 unmistakable scribble " Good-bye, Lele. You've 
 been good to me." 
 
 Syd thought, with a groan, of how few had ever 
 been good to Ed. He had never seemed to possess 
 any friends. No one had cared for the unattractive 
 boy since his step-mother died. No one since had tried 
 by gentle means to win him from his evil ways, until 
 Lele came. And now he was gone into the world, 
 from which his father had thought to keep him, with 
 no guide but his own unbridled passions.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 PENITENCE;. 
 
 During the succeeding week stagnation settled 
 down on the old Pennsylvania farmhouse. Nearly all 
 the young people in the neighborhood, including Ward 
 and Maud, had formed a camping party and gone to 
 spend a few days at " The Springs," a fashionable 
 health resort in the next county. So there were no 
 callers, as at first nothing to break up the dull, heavy- 
 hearted life under the elms. 
 
 By the end of the week all doubt as to Ed's fate 
 was set at rest by a paragraph in 'the county paper, 
 which stated that one Ed Fairfax, having drank him- 
 self into delirium tremcns, had been arrested for assault 
 and battery, and was now lying in jail in a very pre- 
 carious condition. Mr. Fairfax, whose honor was 
 touched, lost no time in paying his fine and bringing 
 him home. Worst of all, a note for two hundred dol- 
 lars had been forged. 
 
 On a hot summer afternoon they brought him 
 home, weak and shattered, well-nigh lifeless. Lele 
 could but weep to see the immortal soul of her brother 
 in a form so degraded, and, alas ! so near the confines 
 of mortality. 
 
 A sad, sad day under the elms. A silent, hopeless 
 
 (335)
 
 336 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 day, full of regret and anguish yea, and full of 
 shame. Even those who had aided in the search for 
 his dead body held themselves aloof when they knew 
 the circumstances of his home-coming. All the neigh- 
 bors, even to the pious Mrs. Stuart, had secretly hoped 
 that his course was run. He was no credit to the 
 neighborhood, they all declared. Why should he 
 return to be a vexation to his respectable father, a dis- 
 grace and drawback to his marriageable sisters, and 
 a bad example to his little brothers? 
 
 No one came to inquire whether he was dead or 
 alive. Delirium trcmcns is a disease that excites little 
 sympathy. The family of the sufferer usually endure 
 its horrors alone, and if the patient die, the community 
 is more or less scandalized at any exhibition of grief. 
 
 Bitterly did Lele now recall her crude estimate of 
 country life before she left the Seminary " Country 
 people are happy, because they have the great peace, 
 the subtle power of Nature perpetually about them. 
 Their live? of quiet, contented toil fit them for right 
 living." 
 
 In reality, she had found it all so different! She 
 realized now, as never before, that character is not 
 wholly dependent upon what might be supposed to be 
 freedom from temptation. A moral and religious 
 home influence is just as essential on the farm as in 
 the crowded city. 
 
 if :(: H= * >fc % * 
 
 The very day after Ed was brought home, Mr. 
 Fairfax was called away upon business, which, he
 
 PENITENCE. 337 
 
 said, would admit of no delay; but if needed, they were 
 to send for him. It was not merely to get away from 
 Ed that he went, (though that was no unimportant 
 object, for he could not bear to see his son in his 
 present state, occupying his fastidiously kept room, a 
 source of keen disgrace and humiliation after all his 
 parental care,) but some debts had long been due him 
 in a neighboring town, and he hoped to collect enough 
 to repay what he had been compelled to borrow on 
 Ed's account. 
 
 Meanwhile his son lay between life and death 
 silent, sullen and impatient of control, as of old, when 
 conscious. At first he declined all medicine, and could 
 not even be coaxed to swallow food. There he lay, 
 with his eyes, closed and his teeth clenched, deaf to 
 all entreaties. When told that he would die if he did 
 not take proper nourishment, he replied that that was 
 just what he most desired, but that he wanted no fuss 
 made over him. All he wanted was to be quietly left 
 alone until the breath left his body, and then to be 
 buried like a horse! A remark that sounded funny 
 enough to the doctor, who set it down to delirium ; but 
 to the family it was heart-rending. 
 
 The doctor having failed, Lele tried her powers of 
 persuasion ; but their only effect was to throw Ed into 
 a paroxysm. 
 
 " Leave me alone/' he cried, shrinking away from 
 her with an expression of terror. " Do you think I 
 want to see you with your eyes full of tears and 
 snakes coiling in your hair? Yes, snakes, I say! Ah ! 
 
 (22)
 
 33$ THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 they're comin' again. There's one around your neck. 
 Oh, heavens! Take it off, kill it, quick quick! It's 
 going to spring ! Oo-oo ! there it is on the bed ! " 
 His eyes protruded with terror. Weak as he seemed, 
 he sat up in bed, striking at the imaginary reptile, 
 while great drops of sweat stood on his brow. Syd, 
 coming in at that moment, laid a firm hand on the 
 shoulder of the trembling boy. 
 
 " Lie down, Ed. There's nothing to scare you. 
 You're all right. Not a snake in the room. You are 
 just a little delirious, that's all." 
 
 Ed looked around slowly, as though missing what 
 he expected to see. 
 
 " I'm cold," he said, shivering. " Look if there 
 ain't a snake under my pillow. Be quick, you fool. 
 I can't sit up much longer." 
 
 " There's nothing here," said Syd, shaking up the 
 pillow. " Lie down, Ed." 
 
 Ed sank back, white and ghastly, his eyes staring. 
 
 " Cover me up ; I'm cold, cold," he whispered. " I 
 wouldn't mind dying," he added, with a grim smile, 
 " if it wasn't for the snakes. Don't they bother you, 
 Syd ?" 
 
 " No : they don't bother me at all,' said Syd, gently. 
 " Go to sleep, old fellow, and you'll be all right in the 
 morning." 
 
 " If I was well and strong, I might be able to get 
 away from the boogers." said Ed, pitifully : " but I 
 can't run, an' I'm not able to fight"- then drawing
 
 PENITENCE. 339 
 
 in a deep breath, he added with cringing terror: "I'm 
 afraid they're coming again." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Syd, putting his hand over the 
 other's wild eyes. " Shut your eyes and perhaps you 
 can go to sleep.'' 
 
 Ed was quiet for a moment or two only. Then his 
 face became convulsed with indescribable terror. 
 
 " Oh, Syd, the ceiling is covered, literally covered 
 with snakes !" he screamed. " Help ! they're droppin' 
 on the bed by hundreds. Don't you see them? Good 
 Lord ! There's one wrapped around your arm. Oh, 
 take me out of this and let me die in the fresh air. 
 I'll go mad, mad, if I have to be cooped up with these 
 creatures another minute." 
 
 Syd made another effort to quiet him, and again 
 was partially successful. 
 
 " Where's Lele ?" Ed next asked. " I haven't seen 
 her since the day she asked me to be a Christian. No 
 snakes in her hair then nothin' but curls ! Tell her 
 I iconld go to the Old Boy in spite of her. He keeps 
 me with the snakes because he knows there's nothing 
 in all his infernal region to kill 'em with not even 
 a fence-rail all burned up ! Ha ! Ha ! I didn't 
 thing hell could be worse than farmin', but it actu- 
 ally is." 
 
 His laugh made Syd shudder, and when he glanced 
 over at Lele, he saw that she was perfectly colorless. 
 
 " Oh, Syd ! " she gasped, and he saw that she was 
 about to faint.
 
 340 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Don't do that ! " he exclaimed authoritatively. 
 " Come out in the fresh air a minute and you'll be all 
 right." 
 
 " I can't bear this," said Lele, piteously. " It 
 breaks my heart." 
 
 " There is so much that we think we can't endure, 
 until we must," Syd replied, as he led her from the 
 room. 
 
 A cry of thrilling fear followed them. Lele turned 
 involuntarily to go back, but Syd put his hand on her 
 arm detainingly. 
 
 " Don't go," he said, hurriedly. " His room is no 
 fit place for you." 
 
 " Am I too weak to share your troubles ? " asked 
 Lele. 
 
 " Any woman is too weak to share this kind," said 
 Syd, with emphasis. And pushing her inside the par- 
 lor, he closed the door. 
 
 Lele threw herself into the old haircloth rocker 
 which she had occupied on the first evening of her 
 visit, and wept without restraint. It was evening, and 
 the big parlor with its heavy curtains looked gloomy 
 and felt chill. Lele was half-afraid yet when alone 
 in it, and when at last she looked up and saw that she 
 was not alone she felt terrified. But it was only Syd, 
 come back to beg her forgiveness for his arbitrary 
 conduct. 
 
 What would she not forgive him, as he stood there 
 bending over her slightly, and looking at her with the 
 eyes she loved best in all the world? She just glanced
 
 PENITENCE. 341 
 
 up at him, but there was no need of words to tell him 
 that he was forgiven. 
 
 " I am sorry to appear harsh," he said. 
 
 " I confess you puzzle me," said Lele, wistfully. 
 "How is Ed?" 
 
 " Better. I gave him something to quiet him." 
 He did not tell her what. " Don't mind me, Lele. I 
 told you at first that you mus'n't expect much of me. 
 You must take me for what I seem to be when we are 
 together, and not think of me at all between times." 
 
 " Do you think of me only when we are together?" 
 Lele could not see his kindling eyes and flushed, pas- 
 sionate face ; he stood within the shadow of the cur- 
 tain. No answer came to the question. Syd had 
 before shown an aptitude for ignoring inconvenient 
 questions ; but if she could have known the effort it 
 cost him to disregard this one, she would have pitied 
 him. As it was, she turned away almost in anger, and 
 left the room. 
 
 Five minutes later she discovered that a letter from 
 Ward, which she had received, and had not yet had 
 time to read, was missing. Thinking she must have 
 dropped it in the parlor, she hastily retraced her steps. 
 Syd was seated by the window examining the post- 
 mark on the missing epistle. He put it silently into 
 her hand. 
 
 "Well?" said Lele. "Are you angry?" 
 
 " No ; I expected this. Ward's chief gift is a fac- 
 ulty for letter-writing." 
 
 " I don't care for his letters," said Lele, petulantly.
 
 342 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Yes, you do. Girls always care for them." 
 
 " I'll show you how little I care for this one, which 
 you see I have never read," cried the impulsive girl, 
 and tearing open the envelope, she let the perfumed 
 sheets fall upon the hearth. Then striking a match, 
 she was about to ignite the whole mass, when he 
 stopped her. 
 
 " Don't, Lele ! I think I can guess the contents of 
 this letter and what should be the answer of the 
 maiden worldly wise." 
 
 " It's nothing but nonsense." 
 
 " The fellow thinks you're in love with him." 
 
 " But I'm not," said Lele, with burning cheeks. 
 
 " With him you could be happy, child. You never 
 can be otherwise than miserable with us." 
 
 He went out, closing the door after him, and she 
 took a melancholy satisfaction in burning Ward's letter 
 unread. She was very angry with Syd for counting 
 her happiness so little in comparison with her worldly 
 
 prospects. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Notwithstanding every effort to the contrary, Ed 
 took neither nourishment nor medicine that night, and 
 the next morning when Lele and Jennie went into his 
 room, they were not only grieved, but shocked by his 
 death-like appearance. Syd had had a night's vigil to 
 be remembered by Ed's bedside. 
 
 " If he would take some nourishment, he might 
 get over this," Syd said, aside ; " but I can't do any- 
 thing with him."
 
 PENITENCE. 343 
 
 " Ed, do eat a little," pleaded Jennie, tremulously. 
 She was so unaccustomed to treat her step-brother 
 kindly, that now when she wished it, she could scarcely 
 force herself to speak in a gentle tone. It was like 
 reviving a lost art. 
 
 Ed stared at her stupidly, as though not compre- 
 hending who she was ; then, as a gleam of recognition 
 came into his dull eyes, a bitter, mocking, incredulous 
 smile flitted across his lips, and turning his head, he 
 gazed blankly at the wall, as before. Jennie buried her 
 face in her hands and went out with Syd, sobbing bit- 
 terly. Lele was left with Ed alone. She bent over 
 him and laid her hand caressingly upon his brow. 
 
 " Ed ! " 
 
 The dull eyes lost their vacant stare as they met 
 her tender gaze. 
 
 " Don't, don't touch me ! " he muttered, shrinking 
 from her as of old. " I've got too low." 
 
 " No, no ! " with a strange thrill in her clear voice ; 
 " no one while he lives can do that. Only say you 
 repent and I will pray God that you be forgiven the 
 past." 
 
 " I can't, oh, I can't ! " he reiterated. " It's too 
 late. If I'd listened to you sooner, it might have been 
 some use ; but I can't begin now." 
 
 " You thought then that it was too late ; now you 
 see you were mistaken. Now is always the accepted 
 time. Ed, I'm sure you must be sorry for the dreadful 
 step you took when you left home. Are you not ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I'm sorry for your sake," pressing her hand
 
 344 TH E MAN WITH THE HOF,. 
 
 slightly with his nerveless fingers. " But I don't 
 deserve that you will think of me." 
 
 " I can't help thinking of you, Ed," said Lele, with 
 streaming eyes. " You must try to live for my sake, 
 dear." 
 
 " I'll not get well. I don't want to. I won't" he 
 cried, passionately. " If you drag me back to life 
 again, you'll regret it as long as you live. The devil 
 is right behind me pushin' me on. I can't go 
 right if I try." 
 
 " Oh, my poor boy," cried Lele, kneeling by his 
 side ; " if you should die without a hope of eternal 
 peace, it would cast a shadow over my whole life. 
 You know for I have told you in stronger words 
 than I dare use now how much, how deeply I long 
 to see you become a Christian. I can not bear to let 
 you go down to your grave with a soul so dark and 
 rebellious. Once more I beseech you, dear, by all 
 that is sacred, by the memory of your sainted mother, 
 to give your heart to God, and ask him for Christ's 
 sake to forgive you and make you one of his chil- 
 dren." 
 
 The sweet voice, shaken by its very intensity of 
 earnestness, faltered and broke. 
 
 As for Ed, something within his soul seemed to 
 give way, and his obstinacy disappeared like a dam 
 broken by a mighty torrent. 
 
 "Before God, I wish I could," he said. 
 
 " God will help you." 
 
 Ed's cheeks were wet with tears.
 
 PENITENCE. 345 
 
 " Lele," he said, brokenly, " if you'll help me I'll 
 try to get well, and yes, I'll try to be a Chris- 
 tian!" 
 
 Lele cried for very joy. It was such peace, such 
 deep joy, to know that poor, misguided Ed was on the 
 right road at last. And fervently did she thank God 
 that her prayers had been answered. 
 
 By and by, when Ed had partaken of some toast 
 and tea, which he ate with the docility of a child, Lele 
 said, as she smoothed back his hair with a caressing 
 touch : 
 
 " Now, dear, don't you feel altogether like a dif- 
 ferent boy?" 
 
 " Yes ; it's a strange feeling," said Ed, musingly. 
 "I feel just this minute that I don't hate anybody 
 not even Jen an' father ! It can't last, I'm afraid. 
 Don't leave me, Lele. I can only feel good when with 
 you." 
 
 " I'll stay with you, Ed," she replied, fondly. 
 " You're getting to be the brother I always thought 
 you would become, some day." 
 
 He smiled, closed his eyes, and almost instantly fell 
 into a sound sleep, the first he had enjoyed for days. 
 When he awoke, three hours later, Lele was still at! 
 his bedside. By her side stood Jennie, regarding him 
 with a gaze of almost agonized entreaty. For a mo- 
 ment the old rebellious feeling came back, and Ed 
 turned his eyes from hers impatiently. Lele bent over 
 him, however, with a radiant face, saying: 
 
 " Here's Jennie, Ed. She's come to ask your for-
 
 346 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 giveness for everything she's done to vex you. You 
 do forgive her, don't you ?" 
 
 He looked at Jennie a moment in his old sullen way, 
 his lips so tightly closed that it seemed to require more 
 will-power than he possessed to open them in speech. 
 Perhaps he would not have spoken, but the impulsive 
 girl sank on her knees at his bedside and sobbed out: 
 
 " Oh, Ed, don't, don't say you can't forgive me. 
 I know I've been harsh and unsisterly, and that I've 
 never tried to make you happy " 
 
 " Never mind that," muttered Ed, as his face 
 cleared. "I I want you to forget a good deal, too, 
 Jennie. If I live, I want to be a better boy than I've 
 been. You must help me. It's so hard for me to do 
 right." 
 
 "I'll help you all I can,' said Jennie, humbly. "And 
 I want to be better, too. I've been very miserable," 
 she added, with a long-drawn sigh. " But I know 
 my wretched temper has intensified all our troubles, 
 and if there is a God in heaven, I hope he will help 
 me conquer it." 
 
 " ' If there is a God ?' Jennie, don't you believe 
 there is?" Ed asked, solemnly. 
 
 " I suppose there is, and, yes, I hope there is. I 
 have found life without religion a bitter, hopeless thing. 
 If I had as much faith in God as Lele has, I should 
 be a very different being, and perhaps do other people 
 good instead of harm." 
 
 Hard as it was for her to make such a confession, 
 it made her happy, and it made her hearers happy, too.
 
 PENITENCE. 347 
 
 Sycl, who had been hovering around the door uncer- 
 tain whether to enter came in, and joining the group, 
 looked down at Ed, whose face had lost its purple 
 flush, and was colorless, now, as the pillow. 
 
 " I want to be better friends, too, Ed," he said, 
 huskily. 
 
 Ed instantly took the hand he held out. But the 
 next moment his face clouded. 
 
 " You'll not sneer at me for tryin' to be religious ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "No!" cried Syd, with emphasis. "I'm thinking 
 it wouldn't hurt the rest of us to be doing something 
 in that line. Come, Jinks," he added, cheerfully, 
 " you and Lele get this boy something substantial to 
 eat. He's hungry." 
 
 From that hour Ed began to convalesce. Every 
 one, even the children, tried to avoid irritating him, 
 and his temper and health rapidly improved. But 
 when Mr. Fairfax heard what had transpired, he 
 laughed contemptuously, 
 
 " Pooh ! I wouldn't give that," snapping his fingers, 
 " for Ed's religion. He'll be right back in the old 
 tracks as soon as he is fairly able to knock around." 
 
 " Ah, father, whether you believe in religion or not, 
 you must see that there is far more power in love than 
 force. And religion is but an exalted type of love." 
 
 Her father gave her a puzzled glance. 
 
 " You have queer notions," he said, and relapsed 
 into thoughtful silence.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 A CRISIS. 
 
 Ed was so much better that the boys had spent 
 the whole afternoon in the fields. It was the supper 
 hour. Syd, as he hurried homeward through the 
 orchard, felt a sense of relief that Maud's piano was 
 still silent, and Ward yet miles away at the camping 
 party. For a wonder none of the stock had that day 
 broken into anybody's corn, and so things looked a 
 trifle brighter to the anxious, young farmer. Syd was 
 in a benignant mood, and meant to pass a pleasant 
 evening on the veranda, doing what he could to confirm 
 Ed in his new resolve, and for once enjoying a broth- 
 erly chat with Lele. 
 
 As he approached the pump to wash his hands, an 
 unwelcome sound smote his ear : is was Ward Collins's 
 laugh. Syd set the wash-pan hard on the pan-stand 
 and turned his back grimly on the parlor window. He 
 had been suckering tobacco, and his hands looked like 
 a negro's. He set his teeth and scrubbed vigorously 
 with some soap-weed. 
 
 Ward at this moment came to the window and 
 waved a hand as white and daintily manicured as a 
 girl's, shouting in that jolly tone of his: 
 
 " Hello, Syd ! " as in the old days. 
 
 (348)
 
 A CRISIS. 349 
 
 " Hello, Ward. Got back ?" Ward wished there 
 was a ring of truer cordiality in the voice. " Thought 
 you folks were to be gone for several clays yet." 
 
 Syd glanced clown at his faded working jacket and 
 gummy trousers with a discomfited sense of the con- 
 trast between his appearance and Ward's. The latter 
 certainly looked and acted the gentleman. 'and Syd was 
 bitterly conscious that he did not. 
 
 " I'll never be anything but a dig," he thought, his 
 heart sinking with a plunge. " What a mean shame 
 it would be to expect her to share such a lot as mine, 
 when she might share his. He'll never^have to actually 
 wield the hoe, as I shall all my days, probably." 
 
 He was hardly conscious of what reply Ward made, 
 or of anything that was going on for the next hour 
 or two. He only knew that it was Ward and not 
 he who sat on the veranda in the moonlight and 
 talked to Lele. Through the hushed air of the tran- 
 quil night he could hear her silvery laughter, and it 
 struck on his ear pitilessly sweet. Perhaps it would 
 have softened and cheered him a little had he been 
 enjoying the veranda chat with the rest ; but from 
 his window it only mocked him. At last he went 
 down-stairs and stood at the side gate like a grim 
 sentinel until Ward went away. Unlatching the gate, 
 he was passing out in silence, piqued at Syd's rude- 
 ness, when the latter caught his rival's eye, and by a 
 glance almost compelled him to stop. 
 
 " Do you want anything ?" Ward asked. 
 
 " Only this "- Syd spoke in a strained voice
 
 35 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 almost hoarsely: "Don't mind how I act. I'm so out 
 of sorts with the world this summer that I can hardly 
 be civil to any one. And I remember you used to 
 regard me as rather a decent fellow above spite and 
 malice, at least." 
 
 " I did, indeed," said Ward, heartily, " and that's 
 why I've been overlooking your slights of late. I know 
 it is natural you shouldn't like me as well as you once 
 did; but, Syd, I miss your friendship so! Maud St. 
 John wasn't worth falling out over, was she?" 
 
 " We'll not discuss Maud," said Syd stiffly. 
 
 " Confess that you see now how shallow she is." 
 
 "Well, and' then?" 
 
 " I really did you a good turn in cutting you out ! " 
 
 " Possibly." 
 
 " To be candid, Syd, I consider it a piece of trump- 
 ery weakness for two fellows to fall out over such a 
 wax doll as Maud." 
 
 " That's merely because you are tired of her. Are 
 you ever going to settle down, or do you purpose to 
 amuse yourself with first one woman and then another 
 all your life?" 
 
 Syd's tone was stern : it had cadences of contempt 
 in it that stung Ward, who turned angrily: 
 
 "Syd McKnight, what do you mean? I never 
 seriously trifled with any girl's heart in my life." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Never intentionally," reiterated Ward, thinking 
 uneasily of Jennie, and hoping Syd hadn't heard of 
 their interview at the stile. " But if it will do YOU
 
 A CRISIS. 351 
 
 any good to know," he added, in a confidential under- 
 tone, " I intend to settle down pretty soon." 
 
 Syd knew Ward well enough to feel sure he would 
 tell all about his plans without questioning. He waited 
 in silence, and presently Ward began : 
 
 " I say, Syd, your step-sister is a lovely girl." 
 
 " She is, indeed," coldly. 
 
 " She's the most interesting girl I ever saw," Ward 
 went on. " I wonder you can be with her so much 
 and not half fall in love with her yourself." 
 
 " She seems to prefer you," Syd said, quietly. "Do 
 you have any fancy for her?" 
 
 " Fancy ? I'm distractedly in love with her, by 
 Jove ! over head and ears ! I dream of her every 
 night, and the day that I can't be with her seems like 
 two days. What else do you suppose brought me 
 home so soon ? The time without Lele went so deuced 
 slow that I thought another day of it would finish me. 
 Positively " 
 
 "Never mind!" said Syd, stopping him. "I've 
 heard all that before, you know about other girls." 
 
 " Oh, but I never was so hard hit as I am now. 
 I'd die for her," he added, fervently. 
 
 " I doubt it," Syd retorted. 
 
 " When I'm trying my best to coax her to marry 
 me? I mean business this time, old fellow, if ever a 
 man did." 
 
 Syd took hold of Ward's shoulders with a grasp of 
 iron, and his voice sounded hard, too, when he said : 
 
 " Tell me the truth, boy, if you ever did speak the
 
 352 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 truth. Do you love Lele Fairfax enough to make her 
 happy if she marries you?" 
 
 " Syd, I do honestly." The boyish voice rang true, 
 at last, and the blue eyes looked straight into Syd's. 
 " I hope I may die if I ever cause her an hour's unhap- 
 piness." 
 
 '' I hope you may," said Syd, unsteadily. " I hope 
 to God you may !" 
 
 Ward at length began to observe how agitated Syd 
 was. 
 
 " You don't want me to marry her," he said, sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " God knows I only ask that she be happy and 
 spared some of the experiences one has to endure here," 
 said Syd, in a voice that thrilled with pain. 
 
 " I don't wonder you want to see her more com- 
 fortably situated. I wouldn't stay here myself, if I 
 were you, and put up with the things you have to bear. 
 And as for bringing a wife here you couldn't think 
 of it, of course." 
 
 " No, I couldn't." said Syd, enduring the wrench 
 of final renunciation. 
 
 " But if Lele will only have me, I'll be the best of 
 brothers-in-law," Ward added. " I can help you. Syd, 
 more than you think." 
 
 " Thanks. But I don't expect to bother you any." 
 
 " You an<5 I are not to be friends, then ?" 
 
 " Not enemies, I hope." 
 
 " We must be one or the other. Won't YOU take
 
 A CRISIS. 353 
 
 my hand, Syd? I really can't bear to let this thing 
 run on much longer. Say we're friends again." 
 
 Syd hesitated for a long minute. Then the strong 
 brown hand, calloused with scars of toil, clasped the 
 soft white hand of his more fortunate neighbor. 
 
 " Be good to her, Ward," was all he could say. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, Syd. I'll be true as steel, God 
 bless her." 
 
 After Ward was gone, Syd went back to his room. 
 The moonbeams lay in checkered patterns on the floor 
 and on his mother's picture. Syd stood for a long time 
 with his elbows on the mantel, his head bowed on his 
 hands before the portrait, as though it had been a 
 shrine. 
 
 " Oh, God, I can't bear this ! " he uttered at last. 
 He went out into the hall and leaned over the banister, 
 to see if he could catch some drift of the conversation 
 between Lele and the children on the veranda. He 
 could scarcely keep his feet from carrying him down- 
 stairs. Never in his life had he been so famished for 
 a word of tenderness ; it seemed impossible any longer 
 to endure this starved existence. 
 
 But again, as in a mirror, he saw his conduct as 
 others would, or did, see it. 
 
 " The Fairfaxes," the gossips would say, " were 
 about to be sold out by the sheriff, when a match was 
 hastily contrived between Ome's eldest daughter and 
 his step-son, and her money was used in paying off the 
 mortgage. Lucky dog Syd. Always had an eye 
 for the main chance. But rather hard lines on pretty 
 
 (23)
 
 354 THE MAN WITH THE; HOE. 
 
 Lele, whose beauty soon faded when she took the 
 tread-mill work of a hard-tip farmer's wife." 
 
 " Oh, what a fate that would be for a cultured girl 
 like Lele ! " he groaned. " To come here and slave her 
 life out as my poor mother did, when she might other- 
 wise have all the advantages of travel and society. 
 This narrow, monotonous life would kill her." 
 
 It did not make it seem more nearly right to know 
 that every member of the family desired it, and that 
 even Lele herself seemed to prefer him. It must 
 never be. 
 
 Syd thought it quite likely that Mr. Fairfax would 
 soon urge the matter upon Lele. And, in fact, the 
 very thing he apprehended came to pass an evening or 
 two later. 
 
 Lele and her father were walking in the orchard 
 toward sunset, and after a good deal of chat of no 
 special importance, the latter remarked in an off-hand 
 way, as though the subject were a new one and had 
 not been weighing on his mind somewhat heavily for 
 weeks past: 
 
 " Lelia, there is a certain subject which it is my 
 duty as a father to discuss with you ; namely, your 
 future." 
 
 He lit an expensive cigar, took two or three puffs 
 with evident enjoyment, and then resumed: 
 
 " You have now arrived at the age when most girls 
 expect to marry, and secure that enviable position in 
 society which matrimony alone has power to bestow 
 upon a woman. You are already, I believe, on the
 
 A CRISIS. 355 
 
 verge of completing your twentieth year. Your hon- 
 ored mother became my wife at the age of nineteen." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Lele, painfully embarrassed. 
 
 " Being fond of society and possessing considerable 
 beauty, not to add accomplishments," Mr. Fairfax 
 went on, as if beginning a speech in court, " you will 
 probably marry before the lapse of another year." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " cried Lele, and her cheeks flamed and 
 paled by turns. 
 
 "It is desirable that you should. A woman of 
 your age is old enough to be settled in a home of your 
 own, and the longer she delays the less likelihood has 
 she of making a good match from a worldly point 
 of view." 
 
 " I never expect to do that," said Lele. 
 
 "Very few romantic school girls do. If they did, 
 there would be fewer divorce suits. Love is a flame 
 that burns itself out in a very short time, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 " It seems to be that true love is forever," said the 
 young girl, with quivering lips. " It will be with me, 
 I know," she added, almost inaudibly. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax set this -reply down as too weak and 
 womanish to require notice. 
 
 " If you remain at home," he went on, " which I 
 trust you will though I do not urge it upon you 
 to forego the chances of a good settlement in life which 
 a residence with your friends, the Carpenters, would 
 give yon can not but see that your opportunities will 
 be somewhat limited."
 
 356 THE -MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax indulged in a few more fragrant whiffs 
 with unabated enjoyment. 
 
 " There is scarcely a youth in the community that 
 I would wish you to marry," he proceeded : " not one 
 that would be able to offer you a comfortable home, 
 except that boy of Si Collins's ; and though he's a good- 
 hearted fellow and may settle down to be something 
 of a man, I believe you can do better." 
 
 Here he made a very impressive pause. 
 
 " I don't deny that he has asked me for your hand. 
 What answer must I give?" 
 
 "To Ward Collins? A positive refusal!" ex- 
 claimed Lele. 
 
 " Well, I expected that you would prefer one with 
 more stamina, more force of character, more industry. 
 Now if you had not been accustomed to regard Sydney 
 McKnight as your brother, I should not hesitate to 
 recommend him as a suitable husband for you." 
 
 " Syd ! " faltered Lele, and the throbbing of her 
 heart sent the roses from her cheeks. After all, it 
 might have been a preconcerted scheme between them ! 
 
 " Yes, Syd," said Mr. Fairfax, with emphasis. " In 
 most respects you couldn't do better. He is honorable, 
 moral, temperate, industrious, energetic, unflinchingly 
 true to principle." 
 
 " You think it our duty to marry whether we love 
 each other or not?" asked Lele, with downcast eyes. 
 
 " I am very far from urging a match so advan- 
 tageous to myself, and to every member of the fam- 
 ily," replied Mr. Fairfax, loftily ; " for, if you marry
 
 A CRISIS. 357 
 
 my step-son (who is in no way related to you), I am 
 aware that your fortune would come into our family 
 at a most opportune time. At a time, indeed, when 
 ruin stares us in the face, and only such an event could 
 save us all from being turned out of house j.nd home." 
 
 Here a short turn in the path brought them face to 
 face with Syd, who had evidently heard a part, if not 
 all, of Mr. Fairfax's argument in his behalf, and 
 seemed in nowise grateful for the same. His eyes 
 burned like live coals, and seemed literally to light 
 up his whole face, which was perfectly colorless with 
 anger. 
 
 " In heaven's name, what are you talking about ?" 
 he cried, in a voice of mingled shame and rage. 
 Mr. Fairfax stood speechless. 
 
 " I had expected this, and yet I felt that even you 
 could hardly descend to it ! " cried Syd. " You tricked 
 my mother into marrying you in order to get posses- 
 sion of what little money she had, and now you would 
 induce your daughter to let herself be robbed in a 
 similar way ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! Visionary, wicked, insulting non- 
 sense!" cried Mr. Fairfax, explosively. 
 
 " My mother put what money she had in this farm 
 and became your bond-slave, Mr. Fairfax. We had 
 the best mother on earth, and everything that we 
 really needed to make us happy, except a father's love. 
 You never gave us that. Now we have nothing We 
 have lost what little patrimony should have come to 
 us ; we have lost our mother ; we have lost heart and
 
 358 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 hope. And now you ask another woman to put her 
 money and life into this farm, and see both frittered 
 away, as they would if you retained control. You fet- 
 tered my mother to a life of unceasing care, toil and 
 worry, brightened by no love on your part ; and now 
 you have the cheek to urge a loveless marriage upon 
 your daughter as a cloak for securing more funds to 
 sink in what you are fond of styling the ' fine old 
 Fairfax homestead.' " 
 
 " This language, sir, is extraordinary." said Mr. 
 Fairfax, haughtily, while Lele stood gazing at Syd in 
 amazed, shocked silence. " It is extraordinary, I 
 repeat, not only from the blind folly it betrays, (for 
 your scruples, young man, are nothing more than a 
 fool's scruples, that have crept into a head normally 
 sensible enough,) but is extraordinary from the amount 
 of disrespect and ingratitude it shows to me, who have 
 been a father to you for nearly seventeen years, and 
 have treated you in most respects better than I did my 
 own children." 
 
 " Better ! Great Heavens ! How have you treated 
 me?" cried Syd, wrought to madness by long pent-up 
 resentment. " What have you given me or done for 
 me? I've worked ever since I was ten years old 
 always beyond my strength. I never knew a time 
 when there was not more depending upon me than I 
 could possibly do or get done. You never gave me 
 a chance to make a penny for myself, and I stand no\v 
 before this girl, to whom you are recommending me 
 as a suitable match, without a penny in the world to
 
 A CRISIS. 359 
 
 call my own ! And I blush with shame, as any man 
 would, when I oun it." 
 
 Syd thrilled painfully with a consciousness of his 
 utter insignificance. And he did so long to be looked 
 up to and regarded as an important factor in the world. 
 It seemed to him that he should go raving mad if com- 
 pelled to endure much more of the dwarfing process 
 to which he had been subjected. 
 
 " Every penny I've ever made has gone toward 
 keeping a roof over our heads," he went on, " and 
 now, because you think Collins wants to foreclose, you 
 try to persuade Lele that it's her Christian duty to 
 marry me, so you can rob her of the money her aunt 
 thought she had placed beyond your reach. I tell you 
 both," he glanced at Lele for the first time, '"that that 
 question is forever settled. / won't be a party to any 
 such robbery. And as for the rest this kind of exist- 
 ence I don't call it life has got to come to an end 
 some time, and it might as well be the middle of Sep- 
 tember as not. I've worked like a man to save the 
 place, and if you, sir, had helped, instead of hindering, 
 it wouldn't now be ready to be sold under the hammer. 
 As for saving it with Lele's money, /'// never marry 
 a girl to defraud her of a few thousand dollars and 
 doom her to a life of drudgery and discouragement, 
 as you did mamma. Neither will I work any longer 
 under you as your unpaid overseer. Hereafter I shall 
 work my own farm or none, for in a few days I shall 
 be of age ! " 
 
 Without giving either of them time to reply, he
 
 360 THE MAN WITH THJi HOhJ. 
 
 turned short round and walked away toward the barn 
 with long, swift strides. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax was utterly crushed. He realized 
 clearly for the first time what chaos he had made of 
 his affairs; how the old homestead was at last to he 
 wrenched from the family of Fairfax, its owners from 
 time immemorial, and submitted to the disgrace of a 
 sheriff's sale. He had never anticipated this, even in 
 his gloomiest moments, but had firmly believed that 
 something would turn up at the last moment to avert 
 such a crisis. How abominable was this conduct of 
 his step-son, who had it in his power to prevent any 
 immediate disaster to the estate! True, the boy was 
 right. He had been wronged unintentionally, accord- 
 ing to the best of Mr. F.'s belief. He had, of course, 
 suffered some hardships most of the family had. 
 Moreover, Syd's patient way of submitting to them 
 had given his step-father an entirely wrong idea of 
 their effect. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax felt ashamed, after such a scene, to 
 look his daughter in the face, and was glad to find, 
 when he had picked himself up from the moral heap 
 into which he had been thrown, that she had vanished 
 somewhere. He returned to the house dejected, 
 amazed, hopeless. It was a new thing under the sun 
 for Syd to turn and rend him thus ; he felt powerless 
 to defend himself, and knew not whither to turn for 
 help. For years he had been shifting the family bur- 
 dens to Syd's shoulders, and in this last crisis he had 
 been sure of his step-son's aid. The mortgage had
 
 A CRISIS. 3d 
 
 been in his mind when he invited Lele home. And it 
 had very soon occurred to him that a marriage between 
 her and his step-son would be a most fortunate occur- 
 rence. Providence, for a time, had seemed to smile 
 upon his plans. But alas for the " schemes of mice 
 and men " !
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 " UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS." 
 
 Lele had made her escape to Jen's favorite old 
 apple-tree, where some gnarled, low branches formed 
 a sort of sylvan throne. 
 
 Here in leafy solitude she sat downcast, flushed, 
 humiliated, exquisitely miserable her arm resting 
 upon an overhanging bough, with her face pressed 
 against it, as wretched for the time as poor Jen in 
 her saddest musings. Faint with contending emo- 
 tions, for a time thought was chaos. Not a word could 
 her mind shape. Nothing crystallized within it but 
 flashes of shame, disappointment and despair as the 
 whole period of her visit passed before her in imagina- 
 tion. Again she saw Syd in all his phases tender, 
 harsh, kind, curt, brother-like, cousin-like but was 
 he ever absolutely lover-like? 
 
 No. Syd had never loved her. His reference to 
 a " loveless marriage " proved that. And why, with 
 it all, had he fascinated her so? 
 
 A hundred times she had told herself that she would 
 hoe row about with Syd in the fields lather than live 
 in luxury with any other man. 
 
 " And to think what a blind, sentimental fool I 
 have been ! Syd doesn't care for me at all never did 
 
 (362)
 
 "UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS." 363 
 
 never can not even well enough to marry me, 
 though he knows it is the only way to save our home 
 from destruction ! " were the taunting words that finally 
 formed in her mind. " I wish I could die. Oh, I 
 do zvish I could die ! " 
 
 Large tears splashed on the dead leaves below. 
 
 Then the grotesque side of the whole affair began 
 to dawn upon her, as she pictured her father standing 
 there, gravely urging her to lay her hand and fortune 
 at her step-son's feet ; her confused demurring ; Syd's 
 natural fury at the humiliating position in which he 
 was placed, and the tableau they all three made during 
 Syd's excited harangue. The memory of her father's 
 chagrined, scandalized visage was too much for her 
 risibles ; but Syd's unmistakable rejection of the hand 
 offered by her father, and the gloom it entailed, each 
 time she mentally viewed it, brought forth fresh sobs. 
 
 So the evening hour passed in the quiet orchard. 
 How loudly the katydids sang in the meadow adjacent ; 
 in the distant pond the frogs, hidden among the cala- 
 mus leaves, began to croak. She could hear Jennie's 
 clear voice calling the cow r s in the pasture below the 
 barn. 
 
 "Sook, Brindle! Sook, Bess! Sook! Sook! So' 
 cow!" 
 
 The sun had set, and from the hills the sunset light 
 was fading ; under the apple-trees were shadows long 
 and dim. Lele grown calmer, if not happier, descended 
 from her sylvan retreat, and went, by the barnyard, 
 down throusfh the grassv lane to the house. She took
 
 364 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 this route in order to avoid meeting any of the family, 
 lest her flushed, tear-stained face and sadly-tumbled 
 hair should invite questions, which she was ill-prepared 
 to answer. To her dismay, she came unexpectedly 
 upon Ward Collins at the little gate. He had called 
 to ask her to take a drive. Wasn't she staying in the 
 house too much since Ed was sick ? 
 
 Lele begged to be excused, saying it was impossible 
 for her to go that evening. She could not conceal the 
 fact that she had been crying, and Ward looked dis- 
 tressed. 
 
 " You are in trouble," he said, gently. " Is it any- 
 thing I can share?" 
 
 Lele shook her head and tried to force back the 
 tears. 
 
 " I would give ten years of my life to be of use to 
 you, if you would only let me," said Ward, wistfully. 
 
 " I couldn't think of allowing it," said Lele, making 
 a sorry attempt at laughter. 
 
 "You're just homesick, perhaps," said Ward, with 
 tender sympathy. " I know a sovereign remedy for it. 
 May I administer it?" He bent over her, at once 
 laughing and earnest. " Oh, Lele ! to think of a home 
 with you in it. What are these people thinking of to 
 let you cry when you ought to be so happy?" 
 
 This was very soothing, coming, as it did, on the 
 heels of the torturing scene in the orchard. Lele was 
 almost piqued into accepting Ward then and there. 
 
 " Sycl has made any love between him and me 
 impossible forever," she thought, " and he has often
 
 "UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS." 365 
 
 advised me to marry Ward. Why not?" But when 
 Ward's arm would have clasped her waist, she repelled 
 him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss Fairfax," Ward said, 
 humbly. 
 
 " Don't mind. I'm not in a sentimental mood this 
 evening," said Lele, in a tone of apology. 
 
 " You never are. I wish you were some time. 
 And I wish I could be of use to you in some way." 
 
 " Thank you, Ward," the low voice uttered tremu- 
 lously. 
 
 Ward's heart leaped when she pronounced his 
 name. It was the first time she had ever left off the 
 prefix, and it gave him a certain sense of security in 
 her esteem that he had never before experienced. 
 
 " Will you come in ?" she added, with rather faint- 
 hearted hospitality. 
 
 " Not this evening. Some other eve, if agreeable." 
 
 " To-morrow, then." She gave him her hand, 
 which he almost forgot to release. " Good-night, 
 Ward." 
 
 " Good-night, Lele. May good fairies steal your 
 tears, and make you the happiest girl in the world 
 as you are the sweetest." 
 
 There was a tremor in the boyish voice. His whole 
 manner was tinged with a winsome tenderness. Lele 
 wondered, as she left him, why it is so much easier to 
 love a man who doesn't care two straws about you, than 
 it is to care for one whose sole delight would be in 
 inventing new ways of showing that he adores you.
 
 366 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 She entered Jennie's room, where she always slept 
 now, and involuntarily sat down on the foot of Tude's 
 bed, which was near the back window ; leaning her 
 head wearily against the wall, she uttered a little shud- 
 dering sigh, and sat listlessly gazing through the win- 
 dow, her hands lying passive in her lap, palm upward, 
 one within the other, in an attitude characteristic of 
 Lele in moments of despondency, but impossible with 
 one of Jen's fiery temperament. 
 
 " After all," she mused, sadly, " the farm will 
 have to be sold. For if Syd goes away, as I suppose 
 he will, the farm must go, that is certain. What can 
 I do ? Nothing at least of any consequence and 
 it breaks my heart to think of all that will happen ; the 
 scattered, homesick family ; the sad, uncertain future. 
 And Syd gone " Lele's handkerchief was wet with 
 tears already. She rummaged for another. 
 
 Down-stairs all had been silent as the grave; but 
 now Syd emerged from the dining-room door, and 
 advancing to the edge of the porch, leaned dejectedly 
 against one of the pillars, while glancing, by the aid 
 of a match, over a letter in the dim twilight. Lele's 
 heart leaped and the hot blood surged into her cheeks 
 as she watched him. What a " bonnie lad " Syd was 
 so tall, so strong, so proud, so true to what he 
 thought the right course. Her whole future was in 
 eclipse, because this broad-shouldered fellow, who 
 could be so harsh and so gentle, so cool and so impas- 
 sioned, worshiped his pride more than he did her. 
 
 " Oh, if Providence had willed that our pathway
 
 UNDER GREEN AfPLE BOUGHS." 367 
 
 through life should be the same," she reflected, miser- 
 ably. " What will life be worth without him ? Had 
 I as many lovers as Mary Tudor, I would give them 
 all for one word of tenderness from him." 
 
 She felt a mad impulse to run down-stairs and tell 
 him that his hateful pride was breaking her heart; 
 but wisely desisted. Closing her eyes, she tried desper- 
 ately to reason herself into a more rational mood. 
 
 Voices roused her and drew her gaze downward 
 again. Jennie was talking with Syd. 
 
 " Could you endure life in Dakota?" she heard him 
 ask. " I think seriously of emigrating." 
 
 " I don't know, Syd. It's so cold there ! People 
 die in blizzards right in sight of home. Do you really 
 think we'll have to give up the farm, after all?" 
 
 " Yes, I do. This life is killing us both, Jinsey. 
 There must be a change." Syd gave a sigh that was 
 almost a groan. A chord in Lele's heart vibrated 
 to it. 
 
 Jennie stood looking at him, perplexed and mis- 
 erable. 
 
 " I don't know what we're to do, Syd, if you give 
 up," she said, wistfully. " Have you and father quar- 
 reled?" 
 
 " Yes, we've quarreled ! " cried Syd, passionately. 
 " It seems to me now that my resentment against him 
 and his slipshod, selfish ways has been growing every 
 day since I knew him, and this evening it burst" all 
 bounds. I have tried to be respectful to the man my 
 mother once loved and honored ; tried to keep up a sem-
 
 368 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 blance of gratitude for the galling bondage I've been 
 forced to endure here ; but I can never feel one 
 shadow of respect for the man again." 
 
 " What in the world has he done ?" 
 
 " What do you suppose ? He wants next to set 
 his affairs straight by forcing Lele to marry me ! " 
 
 Lele had listened unthinkingly up to this point. But 
 as the last sentence was uttered she sprang up and hur- 
 riedly left the room, her cheeks and ears fairly tin- 
 gling. What if he should tell Jennie that he had never 
 even dreamed of falling in love with his too-susceptible 
 step-sister ? Ah ! if she could have known what fol- 
 lowed ! 
 
 " You would be a fool to object to that arrange- 
 ment," said Jennie, shortly. 
 
 '" Oh, Jean, how can you say that ?" cried Syd, 
 whose face and eyes were aglow with shame. " " Do 
 you think that if I and every member of this family 
 were to be thrown on the county for support, and I 
 could prevent it by just asking Lele to marry me, that 
 I'd doit?" 
 
 " I thought you liked her ?" 
 
 " Liked her !" echoed Syd, with an indescribable 
 accent. " The more I like her, the less I am willing 
 to see her throw herself away. I believe she is quite 
 capable of marrying me from a sense of duty. Women 
 delight in making foolish sacrifices. I look yet for you 
 to make a sudden resolve to marry old Bill Markley." 
 
 " Would you advise it ?" 
 
 " No, by thunder, I wouldn't. And if you were
 
 " UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS." 369 
 
 in Lele's place, and a man in mine were unscrupulous 
 enough to want to marry you and sink what little 
 money you had in a place like this, I'd take pleasure in 
 kicking him as far as from here to the big road." 
 
 " How did Lele seem to take what you said to her 
 father?" Jennie asked. 
 
 " I don't know. I never looked at her but once." 
 
 "Were you very rude?" 
 
 " Horribly. I wish she had not been present." 
 
 " Ward is out at the gate now talking to her," said 
 Jennie. 
 
 " Then she'll come in engaged. Ward wants to 
 marry her, and I think has asked Mr. Fairfax's con- 
 sent. It wouldn't be in human nature for her to refuse 
 a fellow like Ward just after such a scene as I made 
 in the orchard." 
 
 He felt that he deserved this. A maddening sense 
 of regret seized him. 
 
 " I hardly think, after all, that she will ever marry 
 him," said Jennie. 
 
 "Yes, she will. It's decreed." He walked impa- 
 tiently up and down the porch. Then he burst out: 
 
 " Jen, if you say so, we'll quit this dead and alive 
 business and go West right off. There's nothing but 
 misery here for either you or me. Let's take up a 
 claim. I can borrow a little money enough to keep 
 us from starving, until we get a start, if there's any 
 chance for such as us this side of eternity." 
 
 " Is that the last resort ?" 
 
 " I had thought of something else, but if she T 
 
 (24)
 
 37O THE MAN WITH THE HCE. 
 
 don't think I should care to stay here under any cir- 
 cumstances, and perhaps you wouldn't, either." 
 
 " After they are married, he means," thought 
 Jennie. 
 
 " Will you go ?" he repeated. 
 
 " I can't desert Tude and Cora, Syd." 
 
 " I'll take you three girls, and let Mr. Fairfax look 
 after the boys." 
 
 "Oh, Syd! Leave Clem and Charlie to his care. 
 You know what kind of raising they'd get," said 
 Jennie, with wet lashes. 
 
 " They keep you mad half the time, Jinsey." 
 
 " Yes, but the house would be dead without them. 
 And, besides, I've been miserably wrong in my attitude 
 toward the boys of the family, Syd. I do so long for 
 a chance to redeem myself in that." 
 
 " I couldn't take them without their father's con- 
 sent, and you know what a fad he has for sticking to 
 his lawful rights. It would have been money in his 
 pocket to let Ed go two or three years ago ; but he 
 wouldn't." 
 
 " It would break my heart to have the family scat- 
 tered east and west, as so many families are. It is 
 cruel to be placed in such a position," cried Jennie, very 
 bitterly. " Syd, I'm the most miserable girl in the 
 world." 
 
 " You haven't a very comprehensive idea of human 
 wretchedness. Jinsey. You might be really worse off 
 than you are. I can tell you." 
 
 " I don't see how," said rebellious Jennie.
 
 " UNDER GREEN APPLE BOUGHS. 3/1 
 
 " You arc a self-respecting young woman." 
 
 " Of course." Jean stared at him through the dusk, 
 but could catch but a dim outline of his features. 
 
 "You wouldn't be if you had consented to meet 
 Ward Collins every evening at the stile in the hill 
 pasture." 
 
 Jennie was thunder-struck. 
 
 " How do you know anything about it ?" she fal- 
 tered. 
 
 " I happened along on a fence-fixing expedition, 
 as usual. Some of our hogs had been getting through 
 a hole in the hedge. You were both too excited t:> 
 notice me." 
 
 " And you heard " 
 
 " Not a word; but I could guess a good deal. If 
 you had not concluded the interview as you did, I 
 should have pitched Ward over the hedge into the 
 hollow." 
 
 " I did what I thought was right," said Jennie, 
 proudly. 
 
 " Of course. I honor you for it, Jinsey. About 
 nineteen girls out of twenty would have made the 
 greatest mistake of their lives then." 
 
 " Perhaps I did," said Jennie, almost inaudibly. " I 
 might have made him care for me and respect me, 
 too." 
 
 " Never believe it for a moment, Jinsey. Ward is 
 too weak to resist the faintest shadow of a temptation. 
 A girl who consents to a clandestine interview admits 
 a pitiful lack of self-respect and prudence," he added.
 
 3/2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " You and I are both a hundred times better off at 
 this time than we would be in some circumstances 
 which we can imagine. We have stood by our prin- 
 ciples, and can at best go down to defeat with clear 
 consciences." 
 
 " Yes, we can," said Jennie, most hopefully. " I 
 never thought of that. I have often regretted treating 
 Ward as I did that evening, but I never shall again. 
 Thank you, Syd ; I believe it was your presence that 
 helped nie to do right that day." 
 
 " No, it was the result of our mother's training 
 .Don't you remember how she taught us always to 
 be guided by principle in everything, and never to let 
 any mere thought of what would be for our happiness 
 outweigh it?" 
 
 " It makes life hard to be always weighing conse- 
 quences beforehand." 
 
 " Not so hard as to be compelled to weigh them 
 afterward," said Syd, significantly. " I never look at 
 my mother's picture without thinking of one of her 
 favorite maxims ' One must keep one's honor bright, 
 no matter what else is tarnished.' ' 
 
 " I often think of that, too," said Jennie, sighing. 
 " But though I can do right in great things, the little 
 whips and stings of daily life are too many for me. 
 I am so irritable, so rebellious against Fate, so full 
 of longing for better things, that I feel at times as 
 though something was tearing me to pieces, body and 
 soul. I crave the good things of life worse than Ed 
 at his worst ever craved liquor, and I don't see why
 
 UNDIiR GRliUN APPMC BOUGHS. 373 
 
 they are all denied fame and friends and wealth and 
 happiness." 
 
 " No more do I. But I don't choose to barter my 
 soul, or my sacred honor, or even the respect of my 
 neighbors, for the least one of them," Syd replied. 
 
 " I wouldn't let the opinion of a man like old 
 Heldt " 
 
 " Yes, you would ! " Syd interrupted. " I wouldn't 
 have known just how the neighborhood " 
 
 He sighed deeply, and sat down again with his ach- 
 ing head resting on his hands. 
 
 " Is going West the only thing you have thought 
 of?" Jennie asked, presently. "If you don't want to 
 stay here." 
 
 " Yes, as yet. I'm not sure it's the best plan. It 
 will, after all, be necessary to wait and see Mr. Fair- 
 fax through his troubles with old Si. I owe him that 
 much, surely. But we must be prepared to make a 
 move of some kind by the middle of September. Bear 
 that in mind." 
 
 A moment later Syd was alone. He heard Jennie 
 clattering the milk-pails in the kitchen. Syd won- 
 dered if there was a stray dog in Christendom as for- 
 lorn as he was. 
 
 " But I'm not dead yet," he reflected, straightening 
 his shoulders and holding his head erect. "And I'm 
 not going to give up the fight until I do die. I don't 
 care to have a hoe or wheat-shock on my tombstone. 
 It shall bear the simple inscription : ' Syd McKnight 
 A man who tried to farm without capital. Died game.' 
 That will tell the tale. No poetry required."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 
 
 At the breakfast table next morning not the faintest 
 reference was made by any one to the incident in the 
 orchard. Mr. Fairfax ate in grim and gloomy silence, 
 glancing occasionally at his step-son, but getting each 
 time, it seemed to him, less assurance that Syd would 
 ever retract from the stand he had taken the evening 
 before. The young man had evidently marked out a 
 course of action for himself, and would follow it, 
 sheriff's sale or no sheriff's sale. 
 
 But if Lele's father derived no solace from his step- 
 son's conduct, Lele herself derived still less. Syd went 
 no further than to apologize, after breakfast, for any 
 seeming rudeness to her. During the ensuing days, by 
 a " series of surprising coincidences," he was contin- 
 ually absent when Lele was present, and present when 
 she was absent. Sometimes he seemed too busy or 
 absorbed to be conscious of her existence ; again he 
 had sudden headaches or was in some other way dis- 
 qualified for conversation when his presence was most 
 strongly desired. There were times when he was so 
 busy that he even failed to come to his meals, but would 
 order them sent to the field. As for an evening spent 
 on the veranda with her and the children, that was not 
 to be thought of. He would sit in the twilight beside 
 
 (374)
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 3/5 
 
 his window, evening after evening, with his hands over 
 his ears to keep from hearing the merriment those 
 thoughtless children kept up down-stairs. He was glad 
 they could poor things keep up a semblance of 
 gayety, even though he dare not share in it. But the 
 sound of their young voices mingled with Lele's stuck 
 in his heart like an arrow. Once Tude came running 
 up to beg htm to join them in some of their childish 
 games, as he used to do. Syd flatly refused. 
 
 " I wonder why you are so distrcsscdly mopy," said 
 the child. "You're not even reading, are you?" 
 
 Syd had a lamp and a book that evening, in both of 
 which even Tude could detect a lack of interest. 
 
 " No, I'm thinking. Run away, Tudikins," said 
 Syd, in a tone of weariness. 
 
 " How tired you look, Syd ! I'll give you Lele's 
 last kiss to brighten you." 
 
 She threw herself into his arms and kissed him, 
 laughing and shaking her golden curls. " Lele is the 
 very dearest girl on this earth," she added, emphatic- 
 ally, " and everybody knows it but you, you ugly, bad 
 boy," she added, with a pout. 
 
 The tears sprang to Syd's eyes. 
 
 " There ! I didn't mean to make you cry," said 
 the child, resting her curly head against his shoulder. 
 "And you're not ugly and bad, Syd. You're the dear- 
 est boy in this world. Shall I give you another of 
 Lele's kisses?" 
 
 " You scamp ! Who ever put such nonsense into 
 vour head?"
 
 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Nobody ! I thought it all up my own self." 
 
 " How many kisses have you brought me, Tudi- 
 kins?" 
 
 " Eight, I guess. They're sent C. O. D.," said the 
 whimsical child, presenting her rosy lips. "An' I'm 
 goin' to take her back the pay !" 
 
 " Confess this originated in Charlie's brain," said 
 Syd, laughing. 
 
 " Charlie mentioned a little of it," confessed Tude. 
 " He said you were mopin' here like a dismal ole owl, 
 an' then I thought it all up my own self about bringin' 
 you Lele's kisses." 
 
 " Heaven reward you !" said Syd, gently ; " but 
 some things are non-transferable, you know. Don't 
 bring me any more." 
 
 He put her firmly out of the room, and then spent 
 an hour in wishing she would come back with another 
 supply. But Mistress Tudikins came no more. He 
 suspected that Lele had heard of the shipment and laid 
 an embargo on the stock. 
 
 It was very soon after that when Syd, upon going 
 one evening, as usual, straight up to his room after his 
 day's work, found on the bureau an envelope contain- 
 ing the two photographs of which, very early in their 
 acquaintance, Lele had deprived him. He took them 
 out slowly, his face presenting a picture that Lele 
 would have given much to see. 
 
 Not a word of explanation accompanied them, but 
 he understood it to be an acknowledgment on her part 
 that all was over between them, if, indeed, any ties had
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 377 
 
 ever existed. Whereat he should, to be consistent, 
 have rejoiced greatly, and gone to bed in a tranquil 
 frame of mind, instead of lying sleepless most of the 
 night on a pillow of thorns, as he did. 
 
 At last he rose, lit the lamp, and tearing each pic- 
 ture to bits, watched them slowly consume in the flame 
 of the lamp. 
 
 " This is the last time any one shall compare Ward 
 and me to my disadvantage," he thought. " I will 
 begin preparations to leave to-morrow. And I won't 
 go to Dakota, either. Dakota is too near. I shall go 
 to Seattle, San Francisco, Alaska, or perhaps Hong 
 Kong. I don't think I should be disturbed in Hong 
 Kong by that laugh of his, confound him." 
 
 Glancing in the glass, he was fairly angered to 
 observe how white and haggard he looked. He sat 
 down on the foot of the bed, feeling faint and very 
 miserable. 
 
 " I have no more nerve than a girl !" he thought, in 
 a fury with himself. " Why do I care so to be loved? 
 Why is it so like death to be torn from the old home, 
 and from the only woman who could ever have made 
 it home for me?" 
 
 He gazed long and wistfully at his mother's pic- 
 ture. Something in its sweet expression must have 
 tranquillized him, for at last he fell into a sound sleep, 
 with the lamp still burning. And the eyes of his 
 
 sainted mother still seemed to watch him tenderly. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Ed convalesced rapidly, and by the end of the week
 
 378 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 was able to go about the house again, able to occupy 
 his "den" once more, and leave his father who 
 secretly detested him more than ever to himself. 
 Ed found some changes up-stairs which would once 
 have angered him, but really made him grateful now. 
 The woodwork had been thoroughly scrubbed, and 
 pretty rugs were on the floor, the walls whitewashed, 
 neat paper blinds put up, and over them hung fresh 
 muslin curtains. All the flashy pictures had disap- 
 peared, together with the sensational books and papers. 
 Ed felt glad that the first temptation which he had 
 expected to encounter had been removed debasing 
 literature and pictures. It was Syd who had made a 
 bonfire of these, mentally registering a vow that no 
 other rubbish of that kind should ever accumulate in a 
 home of his. A search of Charlie's room had revealed 
 some surprises in this line, too, and had materially 
 increased the conflagration in the back yard. 
 
 " I'd thank you to leave my things alone," said 
 Charlie, angrily. " You're nicer than you're wise, I 
 think." 
 
 " I don't propose to have any more minds contami- 
 nated by bad literature and pictures," said Syd. " If 
 I had done my duty by Ed, he might have grown up 
 a much better boy. I call such books as these," he 
 added, throwing another on the flames, " the Devil's 
 Bible." 
 
 Charlie walked off sullenly, but he said no more, 
 for he knew Syd was right. 
 
 Ed's hideous bed had been renovated, all the
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 379 
 
 " strings " removed, and now the covers were clean 
 and whole, the pillows snowy. 
 
 Instead of the dingy, unwashed lantern in one cor- 
 ner, stood a stand supporting a lamp, a Bible, and some 
 books by Pansy, Miss Alcott and Trowbridge. In a 
 vase beside the- Bible was a handful of great pansies, 
 nodding like friendly faces. The rickety old stool, that 
 used to serve as chief seat of honor, was gone, and in 
 its place stood a comfortable rocker. The " wheels " 
 had not been disturbed, but the shavings and debris had 
 all been cleared away. Ed thought it was all Lele's 
 doings, and was going down to thank her, when he 
 saw a note pinned to one of the curtains addressed in 
 Jean's unmistakable chirography. Opening it, he read : 
 
 "DEAR ED: I have never in my life done much to make 
 you happy or your home attractive. You know I feel differ- 
 ently now, and would give a great deal if I could have the 
 past to live over again. But I know that can never be. The 
 future will be my past some day, if I live, and I hope I may 
 be able to look back over it without so much regret. When 
 Lele wanted to fix up your room as it is now, I wouldn't let 
 her, except to buy the rugs and curtains, because I felt that 
 this ought to be part of my atonement. I fixed it up on 
 uncertainties, not knowing how long we may be here; but 
 while we are here, I want you to be comfortable. Lele can 
 make you happier by being with you, but I'm such an irri- 
 tating (a blot), contrary creature (another blot) that it is 
 best for me to show my good will by working for you rather 
 than talking to you, for you know I can't keep my temper 
 two minutes, but will fly off the handle like a piece of ill reg- 
 ulated machinery. . . . I've tried to fix things up without 
 destroying or putting out of sight anything you valued, but 
 if you miss anything, just say so, and I'll make it right, if 
 I possibly can.
 
 380 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I know you like pansies, Ed, if you don't care much for 
 other flowers, so I've picked all my choicest ones for you. 
 The pansy means ' thought/ you know, and when you look 
 at these, remember you have my best thoughts. And will you 
 not give me yours in return? Life would be so much happier 
 for me if I were not perpetually conscious of doing and saying 
 things to make my brothers and sisters miserable. Oh, Ed ! 
 help me conquer my wretched temper, and to be a Christian. 
 
 " Your loving sister, JINSEY." 
 
 Ed was quite a different boy sitting in his easy 
 chair perusing these lines, from the Ed Fairfax whom 
 we remember as coming down from this room in a 
 towering passion because some effort had been made to 
 sweep and garnish it. Still the old nature was too 
 strong to permit him to go to Jennie with words of 
 gratitude and love. The interview would have been 
 an awkward one for both. Writing was a hard task 
 for Ed, but the next morning when Jennie went up 
 to make his bed she found an answer to her note, 
 pinned to the curtain, where hers had been. She 
 unpinned it with trembling ringers. It was badly writ- 
 ten, misspelled and unpunctuated ; everything about it 
 was faulty, except the sentiment, and that breathed of 
 gratitude, hope and good-will, which fairly glorified 
 the uncouth epistle in the eyes of his repentant sister. 
 Poor Jen in her narrow life had received few enough 
 notes to treasure, as girls do in their teens. But this 
 one of Ed's she kept always with her most cherished 
 possessions. 
 
 It seemed to mark the first mile-stone in the upward 
 course of both. But there was a long and weary jour-
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 381 
 
 ney between them and the resting place at the top of 
 the hill ; many an hour of storm lay between these two 
 souls and the peace they longed for. 
 
 Ed also kept Jennie's letter. Years afterward he 
 showed it to her, when it was cut out in the creases, 
 and told her how great its influence had been in many 
 an hour of temptation. Through all her life she trem- 
 bled to think how near he had come to destruction. 
 Oh, sisters! do not shut your eyes to the opportunities 
 around your fireside until it is too late. Regrets will 
 be useless then. 
 
 The following Sunday afternoon Ed and Lele had 
 a long talk over the past, present and future. 
 
 " I was sick perfectly sick of life," he told her, 
 "when I went away the day before thrashin' ; I had 
 had several quarrels with different members of the 
 family, and was disgusted with myself and angry with 
 every one. Worse than all, I was discouraged because 
 I must stay here when I wanted so bad to learn a 
 trade. I didn't think, as father said, that I could ever 
 amount to anything, an' I meant to go off an' kill 
 myself. But after the way you talked to me about 
 bein' a Christian, I hadn't the courage to do it. I 
 wandered around that night for hours, tryin' to get up 
 grit enough to send a bullet through my skull; but 
 everywhere your eyes were before me, your voice was 
 soundin' in my ears. I couldn't do it, so I went away 
 an' began to kill myself in a slower, disgracefuller way 
 by dissipation."
 
 382 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 He leaned forward, shadowing his downcast face 
 with his hands. 
 
 " When I think," he went on, " of the vile com- 
 pany I got into, and my forgery and drunkenness 
 of gettin' arrested an' having delirium trcnicns I 
 know just how I look in the eyes of everybody that 
 knows me, and I see how useless it is ever to try to 
 be anything here. Nobody could ever forget my bcin' 
 a thief, and in jail, an' having the trcuiens. How they 
 would sneer at the idea of my turning saint, especially 
 the boys! I'm afraid, Lele, actually afraid to go out- 
 side the big gate, for fear I'll meet some of my old 
 pals and be weak enough to let them drag me down 
 again." 
 
 " Poor boy ! " said Lele, tenderly. 
 
 " If I were among strangers, I would choose good 
 associates or none; but here I can't choose, because 
 people have lost all faith in me. If I were brilliant 
 and jolly, with plenty of money, I don't suppose it 
 would matter much what I did ; people would still 
 treat me well ; but I never was anything in society but 
 a cipher, and now I've degenerated into a blct. What's 
 to become of me is more than I can see." 
 
 " Father will not hold you on the farm any longer 
 against your wishes ; he told me so. But he also told 
 me that your ' spree ' had cost him over two hundred 
 dollars money which might have been used in help- 
 ing you learn a trade." 
 
 " Yes, I know I've brought it all on myself. 1
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 383 
 
 deserve no pity," said Ed, crimson with shame. " Here 
 I must stay, and God alone knows how it will all end. 
 The stronger I get, the stronger grow the old feelings, 
 hatred for all the old associations and longing for 
 liquor. I can't be anything but a reprobate, and what's 
 the use to try ?" 
 
 His eyes were downcast, but she saw that the lashes 
 were wet. It was a strange sight indeed to see Ed 
 Fairfax weep. He felt utterly hopeless. 
 
 But in Lele's heart hope was by no means dead. 
 Her faith in the goodness and power of an ever-watch- 
 ful Providence remained unbroken. 
 
 " Have faith in God, Ed," she said, earnestly. 
 " Give Him your heart and leave everything to Him. 
 Only He can help you." 
 
 " I feel you are right," said Ed, " but I'm as help- 
 less as a baby, morally. I want to do right, but I 
 can't stand a breath of temptation. I have no more 
 moral force than a feather has weight." 
 
 A long, serious talk followed. In the midst of it, 
 Tude appeared to say that Ward Collins had called. 
 Lele declined to see him, but sent a little note instead. 
 
 " I am having a talk with Ed that may mark an 
 era in his life," she wrote. " I am sure you will for- 
 give me if I let him know that he is just now the most 
 important man in the world to me. The poor boy is 
 so weak and despondent that it would grieve you to see 
 him. I will see you with pleasure at another time." 
 
 " If that isn't devotion ! " thought Ward, as he 
 pocketed the note. " Confound the luck ! I never
 
 384 THE MAX WITH THE HOE. 
 
 knew a girl that had as much sympathy to waste on 
 other people as Lele has." 
 
 He went off hurriedly, without asking Jennie to 
 drive, in Lele's place, as the latter had hoped. At the 
 red gate he met Hubbard. 
 
 " Not turned down ! " exclaimed Keith. 
 
 " And for that precious run-away brother of hers, 
 whose face would stop an eight-day clock ! It seems 
 she's preaching to him, and won't have her sermon 
 interrupted. Isn't she queer?" grumbled Ward. 
 
 " Precious good, I call it, for a sister ! What would 
 Trix care where you went so she got her Sunday after- 
 noon's drive?" 
 
 " What would she care, indeed ? My spiritual wel- 
 fare has been shamefully neglected. All the more rea- 
 son why I've got to have a religious wife." 
 
 " But perhaps you've been too one-sided in your 
 devotion. A girl sometimes needs to know that ' there 
 are others.' What say to paying a call at St. John's? 
 Maud's awfully pretty cousin from Pittsburg is there." 
 
 " I don't want Lele to think I'm gone off in a fit of 
 pique to call on another girl, when she was so nice in 
 explaining about Ed. It wouldn't help my cause any 
 with her, Hubby." 
 
 " It wouldn't hurt it any, I guess." 
 
 " Miss Prescott isn't my style, and besides, I'd 
 just as lief not see Maud this evening." 
 
 " I'd just as lief you wouldn't, myself," laughed 
 Keith. " But I've promised to take Maud buggy-rid- 
 ing this afternoon, and three's a crowd, you know."
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 385 
 
 " Especially since kissing is a game that only two 
 can play at ! " 
 
 "Oh, the dickens! Say you'll go, Polly. That's 
 a dear ! " 
 
 "Miss Prescott is so flip; and I never did fancy 
 a regularly fast girl, as you know." 
 
 "But for once, Polly, you'll tolerate her just to 
 oblige me?" 
 
 " Y-e-s, if I must. But, confound you, Keith, I'll 
 not do it again even to oblige you." 
 
 It was in this way that Ward met temptations from 
 his too numerous friends. It was not possible for him 
 long to resist, even when he would have preferred fol- 
 lowing a very different course. Any stronger mind 
 
 could dominate him easily, either for good or evil. 
 ******* 
 
 The days went by as though winged. Every one 
 counted the time to the fifteenth of September with 
 ever-increasing dread. The mortgage was due at that 
 date ; there was no money to pay withal, and Mr. Fair- 
 fax knew of no one to whom the mortgage could be 
 transferred. The farm, if sold under the hammer, 
 would just about satisfy the debt. No wonder Mr. 
 Fairfax looked gloomy, and was heard to sigh and 
 groan as he rummaged his desk in the vain hope of 
 finding some paper that w r ould help him in the present 
 dilemma. Penury sat opposite and stared at him 
 mockingly through the long summer afternoons. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax had all his life been too much wrapped 
 up in outside affairs to pay much attention to the 
 
 (25)
 
 386 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 family, and he now regretted most deeply that he had 
 not done more to bind the hearts of his children to him. 
 A feeling of resentment against him as the chief author 
 of all their financial troubles rankled in their breasts. 
 Even Lele felt a sort of contempt for him that kept 
 her aloof for a time. But seeing how much his spirit 
 was broken by his troubles, her tender heart melted. 
 Going up to the despondent man, who sat at his desk 
 with his head bowed upon his hands, she put her 
 arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. He 
 was not a demonstrative or fond parent, but he was 
 grateful for the sympathy which at another time he 
 would have repelled. 
 
 " Things are in a bad shape, daughter," he said in 
 a hollow voice. 
 
 " I feel so sorry for you, papa," was the tearful 
 response. It grieved her unspeakably that she could 
 suggest no positive cure for the ills that beset him. If 
 only she could hear from Mr. Carpenter! 
 
 But while she could offer little substantial help, she 
 would not leave him to face his troubles alone. And 
 the others emulating her example, softened, too, toward 
 the parent to whom they feared that they had been 
 unjust. 
 
 Still the shadow deepened day by day, hour by 
 hour. Syd grew more taciturn ; Mr. Fairfax more 
 silent and preoccupied; Jen less communicative. Lele 
 was quieter, too, and not hopeful, for she had not 
 heard one word from her guardian concerning a plan 
 she had suggested to him, and if that failed, she could
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 387 
 
 think of no other. Besides, Syd's neglect crushed her 
 spirits, and Ward's untiring devotion worried her. But 
 through it all she was as serene in temper, as earnest 
 in sympathy as ever, striving unobtrusively to scatter 
 what little sunshine she could amid the general gloom. 
 And now her sympathy was sorely needed, for the 
 clouds thickened fast. Dock, the best work-horse, war, 
 driven off and sold to satisfy one of Mr. Fairfax's 
 debts ; Mr. Heldt sued for damages to his growing corn 
 and truck-patch, and Jennie's whole flock of turkeys 
 disappeared, never to return. Even Cora shared in the 
 general accumulation of troubles, for the faithless Ol 
 deserted her entirely for Sue Hubbard. 
 
 A huge maple-tree stood in a corner of the back- 
 yard, from one of whose branches hung a long chain 
 swing, where of evenings the young people, even 
 including Lele, swung by turns, or dreamily sat " let- 
 ting the old cat die." 
 
 One evening the younger members of the family 
 were gathered here, as usual, Cora in the swing and 
 Tude in her lap, Clem and Charlie lying on the grass 
 near by. All were in a pensive mood, their minds busy 
 with somber, unchildish thoughts thoughts of being 
 torn from their old home, of giving up their favorite 
 haunts, and of going far away, they knew not whither. 
 Cora's mind was haunted, too, by reflections on the 
 fickleness of man. She regretted ever putting on long 
 dresses, now she had no beau, and seriously meditated 
 wearing her hair in braids again. 
 
 " Jen thinks we'll have to go," Cora said, breaking
 
 388 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 an oppressive silence, when Tude slipped out of her 
 arms to put her adored wax Lily into her cradle at 
 the root of the tree. 
 
 "If Jenks would only scold!" said Clem, plaintively, 
 " I'd not mind it half so much. I wouldn't object to 
 movin'. But seems like there's somebody dead about 
 the house when you can't provoke Jen anyway." 
 
 " I guess it's 'cause she feels in her bones that we're 
 goin' to move," said Tude. " She's commencin' to 
 pack. She says she won't be turned out in the big 
 road with ever 'thing topsy-turvy. I guess I'll be get- 
 tin' all my doll-rags together." 
 
 " You'd better bury Lily out in the garden," said 
 Charlie, dolorously. " She's too fine to live in a dug- 
 out." 
 
 " What's a dugout ?" asked the child, her blue eyes 
 full of wonder. 
 
 " Why, it's a place dug out o' the ground an' cov- 
 ered with sod, where people what's et up with mort- 
 gages have to congregate. They have a hole in the 
 roof to let out the smoke, an' bunk around in a circle 
 like Esquimaux. They live mostly on fat meat an' 
 cornbread. They dig in tooth an' toenails, an' work 
 mostly from twenty to twenty-five hours a day," said 
 Charlie, as though conning a lesson. " Sycl says we're 
 to go to Dakota if we stay with him, an' I rather guess 
 we will. I don't pin much faith to my revered dad 
 when it comes to grub an' shelter." 
 
 " Won't we miss this swing of summer evenings,
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 389 
 
 and the veranda and honeysuckles," said Cora, with a 
 repressed sob. 
 
 " And Ol," concluded Charlie. 
 
 " An' the blackbirds. I wonder who they'll be hol- 
 lerin' at next summer, an' who'll be wearin' hisself out 
 clappin' at 'em with clapboards," meditated Clem. 
 
 There was a pause, during which Ol Stuart's dog 
 barked continuously. Cora sobbed outright. 
 
 " That's you, Code," said Charlie, impatiently ; 
 " bawl your eyes out for a fellow with a face like a 
 pug dog." 
 
 " I'm not," retorted Cora, but she sobbed again. 
 " I don't mind leaving Ol one bit," she added. " But 
 think of leaving all the Prior red apples, an' the 
 peaches, an' cherries, an', boo-hoo ! all the currants, and 
 rosebushes, an' our new white grapes, an' strawberries 
 
 for them Collinses ! " 
 
 ******* 
 
 The few days preceding the sale were mainly 
 devoted to rummaging the garrets and storerooms, and 
 raking out chests and drawers and presses preparatory 
 to what seemed the inevitable moving. How many 
 pleasant memories, how many sad ones, each article 
 awoke too good, many of them, to burn ; too cum- 
 bersome to think of moving. For instance, Charlie's 
 old colt-skin-covered trunk was overhauled. This was 
 filled with a collection of relics of which Charlie was 
 very fond, though Jennie had long ago dubbed the 
 box and all it contained " a mess of conssrned trumpery 
 the phgtte of her life and she would give the
 
 39O THE MAN WITH THE;' HOE. 
 
 world to know that it was at the bottom of the sea." 
 In summer it reposed in the store-room up-stairs, 
 where Charlie spent most of the rainy days, a fact 
 attested by innumerable muddy tracks in the halls and 
 on the stairs. As winter approached, he invariably 
 lugged it down to the kitchen and stowed it securely 
 under the table, there to remain until house-cleaning 
 time, taking, as Jen declared, every afternoon, when 
 she had exerted herself particularly hard to set the 
 kitchen in perfect order, to spread his treasures all over 
 the floor, luring in a horde of small, ragged, blear-eyed, 
 catarrhy urchins, the children of the tenants, to trade 
 pistols, arrow-heads, and other boyish trophies. 
 
 Charlie had in his trunk a collection of all the 
 wrecked and broken firearms in the neighborhood, 
 apparently, besides all sorts of odd" toys and implements 
 carved from wood and lead ; and a store of musty farm 
 journals, which he valued chiefly for the puzzles. By 
 far the most valuable part of the collection, in his 
 estimation, consisted of his Indian relics, several scrap- 
 books full of bear stories, and a file of old newspapers, 
 marked, " Not to be destroyed." These last, placed on 
 top, filled the trunk to bursting, so that it would never 
 quite close, but always had to be secured with a rope. 
 
 By this trunk Charlie " stood like a stone wall." 
 
 " When we move," he said, " that old colt-skin 
 goes, too ! No odds where we go, the place has got 
 to be big enough for me an' that colt-skin." 
 
 Jennie had passed many wakeful nights planning 
 the prospective moving, and arranging in her mind
 
 FACING THE INEVITABLE. 39! 
 
 what could, should and must be parted with. Many 
 and many a bitter pang did thoughts of losing the dear 
 household gods give her, until one night, in her mental 
 survey of the establishment, she came to the " old colt- 
 skin," and in a moment experienced a thrill of relief. 
 A ray of comfort had at last penetrated the gloom. No 
 matter what there might be in the new home to worry 
 and vex her, the abominated " colt-skin " would be 
 forever a thing of the past. It was worth many 
 another sacrifice just to rid the house of that one 
 supreme discomfort. A feeling of compensation for 
 some of her lost treasures stole over her ; she felt 
 soothed, and almost immediately fell asleep. The next 
 morning, happening to inquire for Charlie, she was 
 electrified by the reply 
 
 " Up-stairs packin' his ole colt-skin ! " 
 
 The sleeping lion was roused in Jennie. Her eyes 
 snapped with their old fire, and going up-stairs two 
 steps at a time, she discovered Charlie in the center 
 of the store-room, his face crimson with the exertion 
 he was making to close the lid of the overflowing 
 trunk. 
 
 Jennie paused a moment with her hand on the door- 
 knob, feeling sorry for the disappointment in store for 
 him, but resolved to be firm. 
 
 " Charlie, what are you doing?" she asked, as a pre- 
 lude to attack. She knew well enough. 
 
 " Packin' ! " 
 
 " But you know we can't move that rubbish. You 
 mustn't think of it, Charlie."
 
 392 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 All the boy's native combativeness awoke. His 
 eyes blazed as he pushed back the curls of hair from 
 his flushed brow and faced her: 
 
 "I just will think of it, so there!" he said, defi- 
 antly. "Where this colt-skin can't go, I won't!" 
 
 " We can't afford the expense of moving rubbish 
 to Dakota." 
 
 " This ain't rubbish. It's valuable, every bit of it. 
 I sorted it out and left everything out I could spare," 
 and he pointed to a little pile of dust and mice-chewed 
 paper. " I can't, just can't give up a single thing that's 
 left." He spoke quite humbly for willful Charlie. 
 
 " I wouldn't make you leave it," said Jennie, begin- 
 ning to relent, " but you must see how impossible in 
 our new home it will be to find room for anything 
 except really necessary things." 
 
 "They are necessary, Jinsey just as necessary as 
 bread and butter. Why, what would I do rainy days 
 if I hadn't my relics an' bear stories?" 
 
 Jen said no more, but she felt more than ever 
 depressed in spirit when she went down-stairs. Charlie 
 and that colt-skin could never be peaceably divorced 
 that was certain. How she was to endure the pair 
 of them in her new home was something that she had 
 not grace sufficient to reflect upon. 
 
 No one now had any doubt that they were to be 
 sold out. Syd and Lele each had a plan to save the 
 farm, but, ignorant of each other's movements, they 
 were working at cross purposes, and neither had any 
 longer much hope of success.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 THE SALE. 
 
 Mr. Collins came one day shortly before the interest 
 was due and asked for a settlement he needed the 
 money. There was only one way to settle, and he 
 knew it. Mr. Fairfax, driven to the wall, was forced 
 to waive all rights and let the farm go to sale. In 
 vain he pleaded for an extension of the note ; equally 
 useless was his appeal to have the sale deferred until 
 later, in order to make the sale more generally known, 
 and increase the chance of its selling" to advantage. 
 
 " I don't do business that way," was the reply. 
 " I've waited on you for several years, an' now I pro- 
 pose to settle up to my advantage, not yours." 
 
 " You're hardly human, Si Collins," said Syd, who 
 was present. 
 
 " You skeercely expected me to give you the note, 
 did you ?" asked old Si, lighting his vile pipe and push- 
 ing his straw hat back with a grin. " I confess I 
 never expected but what you an' Lele would arrange 
 to keep the place between you," he added, with a 
 wink. 
 
 Syd stepped to the door and flung it open. 
 
 " \Ye've had enough of you and your insults," he 
 said, through his teeth. " Clear out ! " 
 
 (393)
 
 394 E MAN WITH THIC HOE. 
 
 Si threw back his head with a laugh. But he 
 watched Syd out of the corner of his eye as he passed 
 out. When he was on his horse, cantering down the 
 lane, he breathed more freely. 
 
 " Syd's an ugly customer to wake up ! " he thought, 
 with a shrug. " I'm glad that business is over." 
 
 It was thus borne in upon the unwilling minds of 
 the Fairfax family that foreclosure must come. The 
 farm was advertised at sheriff's sale, all legal prelim- 
 inaries taken, and in what seemed a very short time 
 the dreaded day of sale arrived. 
 
 Ward was not in attendance ; he hated sales in 
 which his father was interested, particularly of this 
 character. Poor old Syd would probably be there, 
 looking the picture of despair, and Ward shrank from 
 seeing him. He felt truly sorry for him and for all 
 the Fairfaxes, but what could he do? He couldn't lift 
 the mortgage, and nothing else would help them. 
 
 He had tried to keep from urging his suit with Lele 
 until this hateful sale was over, when the fact that 
 his father instead of Lele's owned the Fairfax home- 
 stead might prove a factor in his favor. The family 
 would so soon be homeless, as well as nearly destitute, 
 that Lele would be driven by a sense of duty to make 
 some arrangements by which they would be benefited. 
 And since the family must begin immediately to plan 
 for the future, he felt that his chance of winning Lele 
 would be much greater than formerly, as she could not 
 possibly do anything in the way of furnishing pecuniary 
 aid until she got control of her property, which would
 
 THE SALE;. 395 
 
 not, according to the provisions of her aunt's will, be 
 until she married. The day of this sale might, there- 
 fore, be an opportune time to urge a final answer to his 
 all-important question. 
 
 But would she marry him ? He had the natural con- 
 fidence of a buoyant, seldom-disappointed nature ; still 
 he could not but know that there were few grounds 
 for hope. He fidgeted around the house all day, more 
 restless and troublesome, Trix declared, than Roy at 
 his very worst ; and toward sunset (when he was sure 
 Lele must have heard the result of the sale) completed 
 a toilet twice as elaborate as usual. Still feeling dis- 
 satisfied with himself, he went into the parlor and 
 critically viewed his figure in the full-length mirror, 
 wondering if any improvement was possible from the 
 crown of his curly head to the soles of his polished 
 shoes. 
 
 Trix was at the piano practicing a dreamy German 
 waltz, and looked curiously at him over her shoulder 
 as she played. 
 
 "Are you worse stuck on yourself than usual?" she 
 asked, with a little satirical half-laugh. 
 
 Ward blushed like a girl. 
 
 " Trix, be kind, that's a darling," he pleaded. " Do 
 you think I look all right? I'm awfully, desperately 
 anxious to look my best to-night." 
 
 " Going to propose ?" asked Trix, still running her 
 tapering fingers over the keys and regarding him with 
 an odd, provoking callousness. 
 
 " N-o." (" Better not tell her I've done that, since
 
 396 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 Maud wasn't the girl," he reflected, for Trix disap- 
 proved of all other girls.) " But I do want to make 
 a stunning impression." 
 
 " You ought to in that suit. The girl who would 
 refuse such a handsome fellow wouldn't be worth cry- 
 ing over. But, Ward, I tell you candidly that there 
 are girls in the world who would be quite capable of 
 it ; that Fairfax girl, for instance. I wouldn't give her 
 a chance, if I were you." 
 
 " Don't take the wind all out of my sails," cried 
 Ward, and hurried out of the room before she could 
 quiz him further. He didn't want to give Trix too 
 good a chance to say, " I told you so." 
 
 The distance across the fields was so short that 
 Ward often walked to Fairfax's ; and he did so this 
 evening. The path led through the little burial-ground 
 in the meadow, and here he paused for a time inde- 
 cisively before taking the hillside path that would in 
 three minutes' walk conduct him to her,, and also to 
 bliss or bitter disappointment. 
 
 He felt that he needed a little leisure to reflect and 
 steady himself, for somehow he felt terribly shaken and 
 nervous. If he should lose her after all ! He had 
 never met with any out-and-out disappointment of this 
 kind in his life, but from his great lack of encourage- 
 ment in that quarter, he thought such a contingency 
 appallingly possible. 
 
 He sat down on an ancient slab near the gate, partly 
 screened by some cedar bushes, and gazed at the old 
 brick house, which would ere long, perhaps, be his.
 
 THE SALE. 397 
 
 He was too much his father's son to look upon the 
 beautiful old farm-house without a feeling of exulta- 
 tion, now that it was coming into his possession. 
 
 Ward had not waited to hear the result of the sale 
 before leaving home, but felt perfectly easy as to the 
 result. Plans for improvement began to form in his 
 mind. The Fairfax family would leave soon Syd 
 would see to that. They always had depended upon 
 Syd ever since he was a child, and he was not likely 
 now to throw them upon Lele's bounty. He devoutly 
 wished that Syd would have pride enough to induce 
 his stubborn old step-father to emigrate with his needy 
 family to some distant corner of the Union. Ward 
 had but a limited desire to have all his wife's relatives 
 clinging like barnacles to his family ship throughout 
 his life voyage. 
 
 But while Ward is so happily miserable, how speeds 
 the time in the old house under the elms? 
 
 Syd had let the dismal, disheartening morning slip 
 by without speaking a word to Lele. He knew she 
 had not yet given Ward his final answer, and not for 
 worlds, just at this crisis, would he have influenced 
 the result by an act, word or deed. Oh, the agony 
 of this hopeless, this galling poverty. 
 
 Did she divine his reasons for keeping aloof, that 
 she could remain tranquil through the long hours of 
 that still, warm September day, each hour of which 
 seemed to fill the space of two? Perhaps she did. 
 
 The afternoon hours were particularly harrowing,
 
 39$ THE MAN WITH THE HOE- 
 
 Any moment of any hour, from i o'clock to 5, their 
 home might be changing hands at the steps of the 
 county court-house. This was what put Lele on the 
 rack, and made the day one to be remembered for its 
 painfulness through life. She had written to her guar- 
 dian, Mr. Carpenter, urging him to come or send a 
 man to bid it in for her; but his reply had not been 
 encouraging, and she was still in total ignorance as to 
 whether he would send a bidder to the sale. Conse- 
 quently she dared not say a word of comfort, for 
 fear of rousing groundless hopes, even to unhappy 
 Jennie, or to her father, who was prostrated with nerv- 
 ous headache and not able to leave his room. 
 
 The farm had been pretty extensively advertised at 
 sheriff's sale, notwithstanding the short notice, and a 
 large crowd assembled at the court-house door early 
 in the afternoon. There was other business to transact, 
 however, and it was past 4 o'clock when the sale began. 
 
 Syd, without having said a word on the subject at 
 home, had completed every arrangement with the loan 
 
 and real estate agent of the L Bank to bid it in 
 
 for him, and he was prepared to bid pretty high rather 
 than let Mr. Si Collins have it. True, it would burden 
 him with another heavy mortgage, but it would give 
 him for some years undisputed control of the farm. 
 He could keep the family together until the boys were 
 qualified, by what educational advantages and training 
 he could give them, to do for themselves, and by adopt- 
 ing certain plans that he had long wished to try, he
 
 THE SALE. 399 
 
 believed that he might eventually pay off the mortgage. 
 It was his best, almost his only chance to get on. 
 
 The sale began. Si Collins in his Sunday best, but 
 with the inevitable pipe stuck in his mouth, was in 
 high good humor, having actually committtd the rare 
 extravagance of a hotel dinner a sure indication of 
 good spirits, roused by the prospect of a profitable 
 investment. Syd stood near him with an air of ill- 
 assumed indifference. He felt that everything he had 
 in the world was at stake, and had a sickening premoni- 
 tion that he would lose. The real-estate man had 
 refused to bid beyond a certain figure. If it went 
 higher, Syd must give it up. He had not been able to 
 procure any other aid. 
 
 There were several bidders at first, Maud St. John's 
 father among the rest, but soon the bidding was lim- 
 ited to Mr. Collins and the real-estate man. Old Si 
 appeared to enjoy the sight of Syd's colorless face and 
 hollow eyes. He made his bids deliberately, often pur- 
 posely hesitating until the " hammer " was ready to fall 
 before raising his opponent's bid. 
 
 " For the Lord's sake, don't tantalize him any 
 more," whispered Ol Stuart, who had in his boyish 
 heart a soft spot for Cora's brother. " Go through 
 with a rush, can't you ? This is a confounded shame." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Ol ; I'm doin' this," said old 
 Si, and he made another deliberate bid. The real- 
 estate man raised it ten dollars. 
 
 "Another bid do I hear it?" yelled the auctioneer. 
 "Going, going"
 
 4OO THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Fifty dollars more ! " shouted old Si. 
 
 The real-estate man shook his head and turned 
 away, while Collins's friends gave a feeble cheer, and 
 those who favored Syd and had been watching him 
 sympathetically, gave vent to suppressed sighs and 
 murmurs of disappointment. Now that it was known 
 that he had hoped to become a purchaser manv of the 
 crowd experienced a feeling of genuine pity for him, 
 and expressed regret in no measured terms that he 
 could not have been successful in buying it in. But 
 Syd waited for none of their sympathy. Heart-sick 
 to the verge of faintness with disappointment, he turned 
 and hurried from the scene. 
 
 He went straight home, and seeing Lele's white- 
 robed figure slowly climbing the path to the burial- 
 ground, hurried after her in obedience to some instinct 
 which made him wish to communicate the news first 
 of all to her. Jennie, who was watching for him, knew 
 by his face as he passed the house that his tidings 
 must be evil. But ignorant of his plans for he had 
 not dared to raise false hopes by mentioning them 
 she had felt that there was little to be hoped for, and 
 had spent the whole afternoon in tears. 
 
 Before Lele reached the gate, she looked back, and 
 seeing Syd approaching, she paused till he came up. 
 One glance told his tale of defeat. Not a word was 
 said, but both walked on involuntarily until they 
 reached the gate, when they stopped and looked once 
 more into each other's pale faces, while \Yard. unseen,
 
 THE SALE. 401 
 
 gazed at them from his position on the slab, as though 
 fascinated. 
 
 " I saw. you coming up here," Syd began, mechan- 
 ically, to Lele, " and thought I had better follow you 
 and tell you our bad news at once. Si Collins has 
 bought the farm ! " 
 
 Lele gave a little cry of despair. Why had not 
 her guardian given her the help she so much needed? 
 She had never realized until now how much she had 
 depended upon that one hope 
 
 " I thought I could perhaps get it, myself," said 
 Syd, huskily, and drew his cap down over his eyes. 
 " I took your advice of weeks ago about getting help 
 
 from the L Bank, you remember." He would not 
 
 tell her that he had thought of it long before she 
 mentioned it. "They were very kind, and if Mr. Col- 
 lins had not bid so high, as if in spite, I should have 
 secured it, and been able to pay for it in time." 
 
 He set his teeth hard to suppress a groan. It was 
 the greatest disapoointment of his life, and until this 
 moment he had never realized its magnitude. To see 
 Lele, to love her, and to be driven from her by sheer 
 force of circumstances, was worse than death. 
 
 " And you must go away ?" questioned Lele, as 
 miserable at the thought as himself. 
 
 " Yes, very soon. None of us care to stay long 
 under his roof." 
 
 " Oh, Syd, I can't realize it. To think you should 
 come so near getting the farm and then to lose it ! " 
 cried the girl, hardly able to restrain her tears. 
 
 (26)
 
 4O2 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " It is true, though, and we must realize it. To- 
 night I intend to complete all arrangements with my 
 step-father for breaking up and leaving here, and to- 
 morrow I shall leave for the West to look up a loca- 
 tion. The others will join me as soon as possible. You 
 and Ed " 
 
 He was interrupted here. 
 
 Ward had roused himself from the stupor into 
 which astonishment had thrown him, and had come 
 forward, feeling like an intruder, but elated at the 
 ease with which all obstacles to his future peace of 
 mind had been removed. Since sitting on the slab 
 he had been assailed by a few fears that some untoward 
 event might arise which would serve as a barrier yet 
 between him and Lele such as the possibility of 
 Syd's gaining control of the farm in some totally unex- 
 pected way. He thanked Fortune his god that 
 no such contingency had arisen. It would be a clear 
 " walk-over " with him the rest of the way ! 
 
 His day dreams would be speedily, fully realized. 
 In a few more weeks " old Ome " and his " kids " 
 would be hundreds of miles away cared for by loyal 
 old Syd. Truly it was better to be born lucky than 
 wise. Syd, with twice his brain and will-power, had 
 never been lucky in anything, while everything all his 
 life long had seemed to turn to Ward's advantage with- 
 out an effort on his part. Even as he pitied poor old 
 Syd, Ward thanked his deity. Fortune, that his lines 
 had fallen in more pleasant places. Now that the farm
 
 THE SALE. 403 
 
 was his, he was sure of Lele. Luck was at high tide 
 with him and sweeping all before it. 
 
 So, too, thought Syd when he saw Ward coming 
 toward him, and his heart sank yet lower. The con- 
 trast just then between his forlorn friendlessness and 
 Ward's exuberant hopefulness was as great as can bo 
 imagined. Syd, threadbare and shorn of every hope, 
 felt himself a mere nonentity beside Ward, who seemed 
 to abound in every grace that can make a man attractive 
 in woman's eye. The very tone in which he spoke 
 added another to the long list of his attractions. 
 
 " I couldn't help hearing what you were saying 
 about the sale, and all," he said, " and I'm awfully 
 sorry things have happened so. Believe me, Syd," he 
 almost felt at the moment that this was true, " I would 
 induce my father to give up the farm yet to you if I 
 could. But you know what he is hard as flint ! I 
 can't do anything with him. Only what lies in my 
 power I can do. And if Lele Miss Fairfax will 
 give me the right " 
 
 He stopped, confused, his ears tingling, his eyes 
 fixed on Lele imploringly. She tried to speak, but 
 could not, and Syd stood looking at him, uncompre- 
 hendingly. 
 
 " You both know, I guess, what brought me here 
 this evening," he went on, looking appealingly at Lele 
 again and taking her hand. " Lele oh, do give me 
 the right to speak, to tell Syd how truly I shall care 
 for your happiness always." 
 
 " I can not." she gently said, withdrawing her hand.
 
 404 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Ward, I like you very, very much, but I can not, 
 can not love you. Your wife I can never be." 
 
 Did his ears deceive him? Her words had no 
 meaning to him, for he was like one stunned. He was, 
 however, silent for a moment only. Like one in a 
 dream, Syd heard him go on, pleadingly: 
 
 " Only think what I have to offer you. If you 
 marry me, I'll give you a deed for this farm as a wed- 
 ding gift ! You needn't see your father's family scat- 
 tered. I'll help Syd and all of them. They shan't 
 have to leave Pennsylvania, or even the old farm, for 
 that matter. Oh, Lele, how can you refuse all this 
 when they need your help so?" 
 
 Ward was in a mood just then to promise her the 
 Persian Empire, if she had wanted it. All his life he 
 had promised and failed to pay his vows, but how 
 could she know that? It raised his hopes to see that 
 his last proposition had a certain weight with Lele. 
 For the first time he saw her hesitate, and the color 
 come and go uncertainly in her cheeks, and in the lips 
 which she vainly tried to keep from quivering. And 
 now when he took her hand she did not repulse him. 
 At this Syd nearly fainted. He felt that the scene 
 could end in but one way, with Ward's face, voice and 
 worldly prospects all to plead for him. 
 
 " I think you can decide this better without me," 
 he said, turning away. 
 
 A small, white hand that trembled like a rose-leaf 
 in the wind rested detainingly on his arm, and a pair 
 of appealing sweet brown eyes looked into his.
 
 THE SALE. 405 
 
 " You want me to marry him ?" she breathed, rather 
 than spoke. 
 
 " I want you to be happy," said Syd, faintly. He 
 felt that he could not endure another minute of this. 
 
 Lele turned to Ward again. 
 
 " Ward, I have already answered you," she said, 
 gently. " You must not speak to me of this again. 
 I can not be tempted by any prospect of worldly gain, 
 for, as you know, I do not love you, and I will not 
 pretend what I do not feel. We have lost all now 
 and can afford to be brave." 
 
 " And you will never marry me." Ward had lost, 
 after all! 
 
 " I will never marry without love, not even in order 
 to be able to help those dearer than life itself. A mo- 
 ment ago I thought I could. But that is past. Some 
 better way will be found to help them." 
 
 War*d turned away without a word and hurried 
 homeward in a maze of wonder and defeat. 
 
 After he was gone Lele stood irresolute a moment, 
 looking down. Why did Syd stand so like a marble 
 statue oblivious to her presence? Was it for Maud 
 that he had been so anxious to win the old home? 
 And was the agitation she had witnessed but the effect 
 of despair at losing what Miss St. John would have 
 considered necessary to her happiness? 
 
 Lele had refused Ward, first because she did not 
 and could not love him ; but also because, as she deeply 
 felt, she did and could love Syd. And he cared nothing 
 for her after all ! There rushed through her mind all
 
 406 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 his coldness, his avoidance of her during days and 
 weeks, and especially that never-to-be-forgotten scene 
 in the orchard. As she thought of this she turned 
 away. 
 
 It was only when he found that she was going that 
 he roused himself to speak. 
 
 " Oh, Lele ! Don't leave me. I must tell you 
 something." 
 
 He spoke hurriedly, and yet with pauses between 
 the words, for though he seemed calm, he spoke with 
 desperate effort. 
 
 " You did right," he went on, " to refuse Ward if 
 you really did not care for him. Love is truly ' the 
 greatest thing in the world/ the only thing worth living 
 and dying for, as I now know. And I see at last that 
 no man, however poor, has a right to love a girl as I 
 love you, and not tell her of it ; Oh, Lele !" 
 
 He held out his arms pleadingly, but she stepped 
 back. 
 
 " You did not love me, Syd, when when you 
 spoke of me to papa in the orchard," she protested. 
 
 " I loved you then as much as I do now," he pas- 
 sionately declared. " That is to say, as much as I love 
 my own soul. But I could not oh, Lele, darling, 
 don't you see ? I feared to have you sacrifice yourself 
 through pity for me or loyalty to duty." 
 
 " I don't think I am quite that sort of person," she 
 said, demurely. 
 
 " It seems to me you are." His tone suddenly 
 changed, and, stepping back, he folded his arms.
 
 THE; SALE. 407 
 
 " Miss Fairfax, I had forgotten. I have a confession 
 to make." 
 
 " Previous love affairs ?" questioned Lele, in evident 
 alarm. 
 
 " I have already told you of my foolish fancy for 
 Maud. That didn't last long after it was put to a fair 
 test. Something far worse." 
 
 He stood for a long minute looking at her with a 
 deprecating expression in his dark eyes. Finally he 
 said, very low: 
 
 " Lele, I twice decided to marry you for your 
 money." 
 
 " I suspected it," said Lele, in the same tone. 
 
 " You had not been in the house three hours before 
 I began to form a plan for robbing you of your aunt's 
 money. It was almost as though you had fallen in 
 with Italian bandits, Lele." 
 
 " I was secretly warned." 
 
 " What did you think of me ?" 
 
 " I regarded you with contempt." 
 
 " You did right. But I repented, and I think you 
 forgave me. In this place, on the first Sunday of your 
 visit, I think it was." 
 
 "And the second time?" 
 
 "On the night of the party at St. John's just 
 before you saw the gorilla at your window. Do you 
 remember our encounter in the hall?" 
 
 " I remember it." Lele's cheeks glowed with a 
 deeper crimson. Was she ever likely to forget an 
 evening fraught with blissful, if groundless, hopes?
 
 408 THT; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " The shock T experienced when I learned what 
 peril you had escaped, completely transformed my sen- 
 timents toward you. In short, I fell instantly dead in 
 love with you, Lele. Did you ever hear of such a 
 thing?" 
 
 " I think I have known something like it." Lele's 
 confusion was so delicious that no mortal man in Syd's 
 position could have held firmly to his resolution of 
 keeping at arm's length until he had done suitable pen- 
 ance by confessing all his shortcomings. Syd did not. 
 When the confessions were resumed they were seated 
 side by side on the slab Ward had so lately quitted, and 
 not at arm's length, either ! 
 
 " I fell desperately in love with you," he presently 
 resumed, " and from that hour the sense of my con- 
 temptible meanness in wishing to rob you of your poor 
 little fortune never gave me a moment's peace. It was 
 not until I began to love you for your own sweet sake " 
 (here occurred a digression) " that I saw my conduct 
 as it would appear to you, and, in fact, to every one. 
 After that I would not, I could not, bear to have it said 
 that it was for your money I married you." 
 
 " If the money is a real obstacle," said Lele, saucily, 
 " I might remove it by means of a charitable donation 
 or something." 
 
 " Don't laugh at me, dear. If I had anything to 
 offer you " He stopped short and sighed. The 
 shadow that had momentarily lifted settled on his face 
 again. 
 
 " If you had bank stock and land," said Lele,
 
 THE; SALE. 409 
 
 straightening his necktie, which was fearfully awry, 
 " instead erf the finest character in the world and the 
 best heart, how much better it would be !" 
 
 " Bank stock and land have a value which you are 
 too unworldly and inexperienced to . recognize. But, 
 my dear girl, they are things which a man must have 
 before he has any right to think of marriage, or to ask 
 a woman to wait long years for a union which may 
 never be." 
 
 " That means," thought Lele, with a sinking heart, 
 " that rather than compromise his foolish pride we are 
 to spend our whole lives apart." 
 
 " No, sweetheart," Syd replied, exactly as though 
 she had spoken. " I can not believe yet that independ- 
 ence is for me a thing unattainable. I mean to do my 
 utmost to earn a home of my own somewhere in the 
 west, and then perhaps it might not seem presumptuous 
 to ask you to share it. Till then, may I keep this little 
 talisman," taking from her hand a crumpled four- 
 leaved clover which she had just plucked, "to remind 
 me that I do not hope in vain ?" 
 
 They looked into each other's eyes, and in that 
 moment all doubts of each other were swept from their 
 hearts forever.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 How THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SYD. 
 
 And Ward? 
 
 His disappointment was indescribable, and I grieve 
 to say reached a yet more melancholy climax than I 
 have related. 
 
 As he reached the gate at home he almost ran over 
 his evil genius, Morris St. John. 
 
 Morris was not the best friend Ward had ever had, 
 or indeed the best a young man of principle could wish 
 to have. But as Maud's elder brother, and Trix's 
 " regular company," he had been with Ward quite a 
 good deal, and his influence upon the irresponsible 
 youth was beginning to tell. 
 
 " In heaven's name, what ails you, boy ?" he asked. 
 
 " I don't know. I feel as though I'd been ground 
 up," said Ward, hardly able to articulate. " Oh, Mor- 
 ris ! is this your buggy ? Take me away somewhere 
 till I get my senses together. I don't want Trix to 
 see me just now, for I can't bear her quizzing." 
 
 "You've been jilted by that brown-eyed Fairfax 
 girl," said Morris, contemptuously. 
 
 Ward tried feebly to deny it, but the adroit Morris 
 soon had the whole story. 
 
 " No harm done, I guess," he said, lightly. " We'll 
 
 (410)
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SYD. 4! I 
 
 stop at Heider's saloon and have a brandy and soda. 
 I guess that will steady your nerves a little." 
 
 " But, Morris, I don't drink," protested Ward, 
 feebly, as Morris hitched the horse in front of a saloon 
 in the nearest town. 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," said Morris, "we'll get in 
 at the back door, if you're too moral to enter from the 
 street." 
 
 Ward kept protesting, but Morris soon had him 
 in the saloon parlor, with several bottles on the table. 
 
 " Morris, I call this dog-mean," said Ward, peev- 
 ishly. " You know I despise this sort of thing." 
 
 "Only thing you can do," declared Morris. "Three 
 or four glasses of tiptop liquor will make a fellow for- 
 get a head-full of love troubles. I've tried it." 
 
 Ward took a few sips, and feeling somewhat 
 revived, consented to swallow a few more. After that 
 he regained his spirits, and the next day had a gen- 
 uine excuse for not facing the quizzing eyes of the 
 family. Morris took care of him. 
 
 " You'll get over this attack," he said. 
 
 " But I'll not get over your cure, confound you," 
 sighed Ward. 
 
 " You don't always propose to be a girl-boy with 
 curls and rosy cheeks, do you, Polly? I should think 
 you were old enough to begin to assert your manhood 
 a little, and not mope and write poetry and lose your 
 spirits over a deuced girl." 
 
 " The love I had for Lele Fairfax was too pure and 
 holy to be drowned in this way, Morris," said Ward.
 
 412 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Pure and holy fiddlesticks !" said Morris. " There 
 are others lots of them. And, Polly, it would have 
 spoiled your whole life to have tied yourself to that 
 little goody-goody nun. You've got to see life a little 
 before you make your final choice." 
 
 " I'd rather not see life with you, Morris. I wish 
 I had old Syd for mentor again. He always kept me 
 straight." 
 
 " I'd hoe my own row, then, if I was so partic- 
 ular." 
 
 "I can't ! " sighed Ward. 
 
 I am sorry to leave my blue-eyed hero in company 
 so little calculated to improve him. But even on the 
 farm a young man without fixed principles is in sad 
 danger, be he as popular as Ward Collins, or friend- 
 less as poor Ed Fairfax. And the time is coming 
 when Ward and Ed, and even Syd, must vanish into 
 the myth-land that lies beyond the closing chapter of 
 a novel. We have time for but few more glimpses of 
 their familiar faces before we leave them to make 
 their way in the world unseen by us, but not therefore 
 idle or inactive. 
 
 Let us wish them success. 
 
 ******* 
 
 When Syd and Lele returned to the house, on that 
 memorable evening, the first person that they saw was 
 Lele's guardian, Mr. Carpenter, calmly taking snuff on 
 the veranda. 
 
 " Oh, guardy ! " exclaimed Lele.
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SYD. 413 
 
 Mr. Carpenter placidly replaced his snuff-box i:i 
 his vest-pocket. 
 
 " I hope, my dear child, that you are not sorry to 
 see me," he said, shaking hands with his ward. " I 
 confess I thought you would be rather glad," looking 
 kindly at L,ele, whose eyes filled with tears as she lifted 
 them to his face. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Carpenter, I am glad," she cried, 
 making a supreme effort to greet him cheerfully ; " but 
 if you only could have come in time to save our home 
 from Mr. Si Collins, as I " and the sentence ended 
 in an irrepressible sob. The future began once more 
 to show appalling possibilities. 
 
 " My child, that is exactly what I did. Don't cry 
 and I'll explain," said the old lawyer, deliberately. " I, 
 of course, took particular pains to investigate matters 
 before venturing to invest your small fortune in land, 
 as I had it safe for you where it was " 
 
 " But you did invest it for me, as I suggested ! " 
 cried Lele, half-delirious with joy. 
 
 " I did ; but be patient, for I have to state the facts 
 in my own way. I sent a reliable man to examine the 
 farm quietly, but with care, and at the last moment, in 
 response to your frantic appeals for aid, (I think there 
 were a dozen tear-blots on your letter), concluded to 
 come myself and buy it in for you at any price, though 
 I thought best to keep strictly incognito until the sale 
 was over, and for that reason would not allow even 
 you to know I was to be present, lest you should divulge 
 the secret." (Mr. Carpenter had imbibed secret fears
 
 414 THE MAN WITH THlv HOU. 
 
 of Lele's father, from her uncle probably.) " Learning 
 in a round-about way that this young gentleman," lav-- 
 ing his hand on Syd's shoulder, " also had his eye 
 on the farm, I thought it only right to give him a 
 fair show, and did not bid against him. When he 
 retired so discomfited (to the regret, I believe, of most 
 of the bystanders) I could see th.at Mr. Collins thought 
 the farm was his. Then the fun began ! For I was 
 determined that if your worthy friend, Mr. Collins, 
 got the farm, he should pay every penny it was worth. 
 He saw this at last, and retired in disgust, leaving 
 me master of the field, and you mistress of flic 
 farm !" 
 
 "Mr. Carpenter! how can I ever thank you 
 enough?" cried the delighted girl, hardly knowing 
 whether to laugh or cry in the intensity of her joy. 
 
 " Your best thanks will be shown by finding me 
 a good tenant," replied Mr. Carpenter, glancing at 
 Syd. " From what I hear, I fancy Mr. McKnight will 
 exactly suit." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Syd, rapidly changing color, 
 as an appealing glance from Lele reached him. " I 
 have already formed my plans for the future, and they 
 include a settlement in the West, where I hope to do 
 better for myself than I can here. But I shall see that 
 you secure a first-class tenant, sir." 
 
 " Oh, Syd ! " whispered Lele, reproachfully. " Will 
 you refuse to be my tenant?" 
 
 " I'll consider the position," Syd responded, with 
 a half smile. Proud as he was, it was out of his
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SVD. 415 
 
 power to refuse any request Lele was likely to make. 
 
 " And, Lelia, I must not forget to tell you, as your 
 decision is needed at once, that there is a vacancy in 
 one of our schools which must be filled soon, and you 
 are requested to fill the same, if you can, at a week's 
 notice. The salary is $600 a year/ with a chance of 
 increase with success." 
 
 " And I shall not see you till next summer !" said 
 Syd aside to Lele, when she had gleefully accepted and 
 sent off a dispatch to that effect. 
 
 " No. I'd rather stay here," said Lele, involun- 
 tarily. Then her cheeks flamed. 
 
 " If I had bought the farm, you should not have 
 gone to St. Louis to teach school and left me," he 
 replied ; " but there isn't anything else to be done, I 
 guess," he added, regretfully. 
 
 " I don't see," said Lele, with drooping lashes, 
 " that it matters which of us has the farm." 
 
 "Don't you? It matters a great deal to me. We 
 can't be married, Lele Fairfax, until I own this farm." 
 
 " Oh ! If you are determined to purchase, I'll sell 
 it for a mere song, Syd one dollar and love and 
 affection," she added, saucily. 
 
 " I don't buy on those terms," said Syd. Then, 
 as they happened to be alone together for a minute 
 or two, he kissed her and told her, with a sigh, that 
 she was a thousand times too good to engage herself 
 to a beggar like him. 
 
 " Yes ; I'm too good, I know," retorted Lele, in her 
 sweetest tones, " especially as you are the only man
 
 416 THE MAN WITH THIS HOE. 
 
 I ever saw that I couldn't keep from falling 1 in love 
 with to save my life. And, Syd, I tried so hard." 
 She slipped out of his arms and flew up-stairs to 
 impart the good news to Jennie, who had been trying 
 for the last half-hour to calm herself sufficiently to 
 descend and learn the result of the sale before begin- 
 ning to prepare supper. 
 
 Excited as she was, it was some time before Lele 
 could make her realize that it was she who had bought 
 the farm, and that Syd (despite his penchant for the 
 "great and glorious West") was to be coaxed into 
 accepting the care of it for three-fifths of all it could 
 be made to produce. 
 
 " And now, Jinsey, darling, don't sit there pinching 
 your arm to convince yourself that you are not dream- 
 ing," added Lele. " You must believe what I've said, 
 and make up your mind to go to Oxford this winter to 
 school ; for since I'm to teach this winter, I can afford 
 to send you and Cora, too. Tucle and Ed shall spend. 
 the winter with me. Syd and the boys will have rather 
 a lonely winter here, but I guess they will survive, with 
 Sally Cahill's good cooking to sustain them. Father 
 will be in Harrisburg, you know." 
 
 " All this for us ! " exclaimed Jennie, with pathetic 
 incredulity. " Oh, Lele, you arc an angel," and she 
 burst into tears. When she was calmer they discussed 
 Lele's plans, which Jennie declared were far too gen- 
 erous. 
 
 " It will take nearly all you make to keep you and 
 Ed," she said. " The rest of us will do very well here,
 
 HOW THE DAY ENDED FOR WARD AND SYD. 417 
 
 with the mortgage off our hearts. Why, I feel ten 
 years younger already ! " 
 
 " I want you to feel young, Jinsey. I'm thinking 
 what good times you'll have with Nell Malcolm, Min- 
 nie Howard, and all the girls I know at Oxford, this 
 winter." 
 
 " I might begin studying music while completing 
 my education," mused Jennie. 
 
 " You certainly could." 
 
 " Oh, Lele, darling, don't tempt me to think of it. 
 I know you can't afford it." 
 
 " Yes, I can. I shall have twelve hundred dollars to 
 spend this year, and Oxford only costs a hundred and 
 seventy, you know." 
 
 " But you couldn't take Ed and Tucle to Mr. Car- 
 penter's " 
 
 " No ; they'll be in California. We'll board at 
 Mrs. Raymond's, or I'll rent a small flat and have 
 my old nurse keep house for us. I still have my aunt's 
 furniture, and it costs so little to furnish a flat. Our 
 living will be very inexpensive. I know I can save 
 enough to send you and Cora both to school. I want 
 you to be as happy as I am this minute." 
 
 "I wish I could be," said Jennie, wistfully. " I 
 never saw any one as happy as you are this minute, 
 Lele. You look as though you hadn't a wish ungrat- 
 ified." 
 
 " I haven't, really," said Lele, sitting down on a 
 footstool and laying her beautiful head in Jennie's lap. 
 (27)
 
 418 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " I am going to tell you a great secret, and I think I 
 can trust you to keep it." 
 
 " You are going to marry Ward," said Jennie, as 
 calmly as she could. 
 
 " Far from it, my dear. I leave him to you. It is 
 Syd that I am to marry, some day, after he has made 
 his fortune. He is too proud to share mine." 
 
 And Jennie experienced, perhaps for the first time, 
 an unqualified joy in contemplating another's happi- 
 ness. 
 
 The engagement, however, was not generally an- 
 nounced. Jean was the only one entrusted with the 
 secret. Mr. Carpenter, even, was not consulted, still 
 less Mr. Fairfax, who would have had small patience 
 with Syd's (to him) incomprehensible scruples. The 
 young couple both thought an engagement, which must 
 of necessity cover several years, should be kept secret 
 from all- save the one whose happiness was most inti- 
 mately connected with Syd's.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Sycl's plans for the future were again upset when 
 he found that Lele, and not Si Collins, had bought the 
 farm. But, since he had spent much of his life in 
 forming plans which were afterward overthrown by 
 circumstances over which he had no control, he very 
 soon gave up all thoughts of going West and consented 
 to become Lele's tenant. 
 
 Mr. Carpenter at once gave him the contract for 
 rebuilding all the fences and putting the buildings in 
 repair. Never in his life had Syd enjoyed any work 
 more than he did the clearing away of those cobbied-up 
 rail fences, and the construction of long lines of new 
 picket-fence, to the intense disgust of Si Collins, who 
 had been splitting rails for years to use on the Fairfax 
 farm. But when Collins saw that all the fence next 
 his line was being built " three feet in," and nothing 
 said about " his half," he was ready to burst with rage. 
 
 " See here," he said to Syd one day, " I ain't goin' 
 to have no ' devils' lane ' riext my farm. I'll keep tip 
 my half and no more." 
 
 " I don't care what you keep up." Syd retorted. 
 " I've joined fences with you for the last time; and 
 now, mind, if any of your stock get on my side of the 
 
 (t'9)
 
 420 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 fence, they will be taken up and you can pay the costs. 
 I've served my time driving stock out of the crops for 
 nothing." 
 
 " You talk very large for a hireling," blustered old 
 Si, contemptuously. 
 
 . " I have leased this place at so much for five years," 
 replied Syd, " with the privilege pf buying, if I choose. 
 You may call me a hireling if you care to, but don't 
 come on this side of the line to insult me." 
 
 Si Collins went off muttering. But he built his 
 line-fence and said no more about it. 
 
 " There's no use tryin' to put that fellow down," 
 he confided to his wife ; " he's got a start up-hill at last, 
 an' blamed if I don't b'lieve he'll get to the top after all. 
 I pulled through myself after a hard tussle, an' he's 
 got the right sort of grit, too. Wish't Ward had more 
 of it." 
 
 $ 4* . i|t $ 4 $ 4 
 
 Lele persisted in her determination to send Jennie 
 and Cora to Oxford a year, and having completed all 
 arrangements for them, and securing an excellent 
 housekeeper for Syd and the boys in the person of 
 Sally Cahill a former domestic of the family 
 whose husband was to work for Syd by the month, 
 she, accompanied by little Tude, Ed and her guardian, 
 set off for St. Louis. By the time they were comfort- 
 ably settled in a flat, with Lele's old nurse for cook 
 and housekeeper, it was time to begin her duties in the 
 school-room. 
 
 The winter, though not devoid of trials and perplex-
 
 CONCLUSION. 421 
 
 ities, was by no means barren of joy, for no day failed 
 to bring a letter from Syd, nor did a week ever pass 
 without a budget of news from Jennie and Cora and 
 the boys. Mr. Fairfax wrote occasionally, and seemed 
 to be enjoying himself very well in Harrisburg, where 
 he spent most of the winter, in a style not exactly 
 becoming in a gentleman who was well-nigh penniless 
 and whose children were depending upon either them- 
 selves or others for support. 
 
 All the family were back home again before June 
 except Lele and Ed, who were to come for a two weeks' 
 vacation, in August. 
 
 The year was propitious; crops were never better. 
 When Mr. Carpenter came late in August to pass judg- 
 ment on Lele's tenant, and make arrangements for the 
 coming year, he was both surprised and gratified to 
 find the appearance of the farm so much improved. 
 The fences, which had given so much trouble, had 
 been superseded by new ones; the buildings were in 
 good repair ; crops carefully tended ; implements under 
 shelter ; stock well fed. 
 
 " McKnight, you are a capital' fellow," he said, as 
 he and Syd strolled over the fields on the day previous 
 to that fixed for his return. " I never saw a more 
 careful tenant, and you farm intelligently, too seem 
 to know what you're about. I declare, you couldn't 
 do better if you owned the land." 
 
 " I take pride in my Work/ Syd replied. " I used 
 to think farming a soul-dwarfing, mind-shrivelling pro- 
 cess, and almost despised myself for submitting to its
 
 422 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 pettifogging details. I feel different now. I agree 
 heartily with the man who wrote 
 
 " Who puts back into place a fallen bar, 
 
 Or flings a rock out of a traveled road, 
 His feet are moving toward the central star," 
 
 Mr. Carpenter, I am proud to be called a farmer." 
 
 " And a book farmer at that," said Mr. Carpenter, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " A genuine book farmer gets more out of life than 
 can be obtained in any other walk of life. All honor 
 to the noble army of men who are trying with tongue 
 and pen to show the discouraged tiller of the soil what 
 real book farming is." 
 
 " Yet you still belong to the tenant class of book 
 farmers." 
 
 " My landlord never interferes with any of my 
 plans," said Syd, with a smile ; " there is a great deal 
 in that." 
 
 " Your land/ad_y, you had better say," retorted Mr. 
 Carpenter. " Lele virtually controls the farm, and I 
 think best not to interfere, as she is a clever young 
 woman, and has a tenant who can be trusted. You 
 two appear to have congenial tastes," he added, sig- 
 nificantly. " I've noticed that you never disagree on 
 any subject." 
 
 " No, we never disagree." 
 
 " My ward would be quite a belle if she cared for 
 society at all, but she goes out very little, and I've been 
 told that she declines all attentions from young men.
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 423 
 
 She is an odd girl painfully odd. And she could 
 marry so well, too, if she chose ! " 
 
 He saw Syd's cheek flush darkly and a pained look 
 dawn in his eyes. 
 
 " She ought to marry instead of drudging her life 
 out in that school-room," Mr. Carpenter went on. " I 
 don't know what the girl means." 
 
 " Then she has never told you that I that we " 
 
 " She has told me nothing, but I suspect a good 
 deal." 
 
 " I ought to have told you before that she has 
 resolved to wait until I have a home to offer her." 
 
 " That might keep her from sharing a much better 
 home than you can ever hope to offer her." 
 
 " I know it. I feel in every way unworthy of 
 her. I have always refused to bind her by any pos- 
 itive engagement until I could see my way to inde- 
 pendence." 
 
 " And yet she owns this farm and lacks only my 
 consent to her marriage to place it at your disposal ! " 
 
 " I will never be dependent upon my wife, Mr. Car- 
 penter." 
 
 " Well, you match Lele for oddity. It would not 
 be a bad idea if you and she were to marry." 
 
 " Would you advise your ward to marry me ?" 
 
 Mr. Carpenter reflected a while. 
 
 " Why not ?" he finally said. " You are more equal 
 now in reality than any mere financial equality can ever 
 make you. Fact is, Mr. McKnight, you are the right 
 sort of fellow to make any girl a good husband, and
 
 424 THE MAN WITH THE; HOE. 
 
 I'rn glad she has the sense to appreciate you," he added, 
 with great heartiness. 
 
 " Thank you." Syd blushed like a girl at the com- 
 pliment. " But there it is, you see," he sighed. " I'm 
 not going to have people suspect that I married Lele 
 for her money." 
 
 " Oh, she hasn't a great deal. Most of it is invested 
 in this land. You might buy it in yourself if you 
 choose to let your wife burden you with a mortgage ! " 
 
 " I have thought of that and spoken of it to her. 
 Of course, I won't have it for a cent less than it is 
 worth, and it is worth more now than when she 
 bought it." 
 
 "But land is actually selling for less than last year. 
 I think six thousand dollars would be considered a fair 
 price." 
 
 " I had some money in the estate," said Syd, 
 thoughtfully, as they walked on. " My step-father 
 allowed me five hundred dollars, which was less than 
 I put in; but I thought I ought to be satisfied with 
 that, as he hadn't much left after his debts were paid. 
 That, with what I shall make this year, would enable 
 me to make a payment of about a thousand dollars 
 down. If I could be allowed time on the rest, I think 
 I could pay out in five or six years." 
 
 It was so agreed. . Syd bought the farm ; Lele 
 returned to her school. Jennie, having successfully 
 passed the county examination for a teacher's certifi- 
 cate, began teaching in order to secure funds to defray 
 the musical education which she had craved so long ;
 
 CONCLUSION. 425 
 
 and Cora went back to Oxford, accompanied, to her 
 great delight, by Sue Hubbard. Their joint admirer 
 Ol, thus left to his own devices, spent, as he declared, 
 " a perfectly awful winter." 
 
 " With you two girls out of it," he confided, 
 " Bethany Ridge isn't worth the powder to blow it up." 
 
 This winter Lele had both Ed and Charlie under 
 her care, the latter being a pupil in one of the public 
 schools. He was compelled to study very hard to keep 
 up with his class, which was fortunate for Ed, who was 
 still rather shy of Charlie's "chaff," though he had 
 himself improved in many ways. 
 
 Lele virtually devoted her life to her brothers, out- 
 side of school hours, and as she had some congenial 
 friends who lent their aid, there was not much that 
 could tempt the boys to spend even an occasional even- 
 ing away from her presence. Ed will feel as long as 
 he lives that he owes all the success in life that he will 
 ever have to that loving sister's influence, " just at a 
 time when so many boys miss their way, never to find 
 it again." He abandoned all his bad habits, devoted 
 himself to his trade, and became at last a brother that 
 even Lele could be proud of. " But that is another 
 story." 
 
 And Jennie, too, had profited by that sweet influ- 
 ence, for she conquered her temper at last, and in time 
 became a very noble woman. 
 
 June came around again, and Syd found time to 
 pay a visit to St. Louis. There was a very quiet wed- 
 ding in Mr. Carpenter's elegant parlor for that gen-
 
 426 THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 tleman insisted that the ceremony should be performed 
 at his home and his wife gave the wedding break- 
 fast, which was spoken of in the morning papers as 
 a " superb collation." Syd's heart failed him when he 
 contrasted the old Pennsylvania farm-house with Mr. 
 Carpenter's city residence, where, had she chosen, 
 Lele's whole life might have been spent in ease and 
 luxury. 
 
 " You've utterly thrown yourself away on me, 
 Lele," he said later. 
 
 They were at Niagara, walking leisurely through 
 Prospect Park. 
 
 "Why, Syd?" 
 
 " Your life at Mr. Carpenter's would have been so 
 different," he sighed. 
 
 " Yes ; I should have had almost everything I 
 wanted but you," she said, softly. " I consider I've 
 made a fair exchange, and if I'm satisfied, you surely 
 ought to be." 
 
 " 'Mother bridal couple, bless my soul ! " thought 
 a gouty bachelor, who happened to be passing. " This 
 corner of the world is too full of them for me. What's 
 the use to come here to flout their confounded happiness 
 in the eyes of other people?" 
 
 Syd had glanced pityingly at the forlorn, crabbed 
 old fellow, and wondered what he had ever done to be 
 worthy of rescue from a similar fate. 
 
 " And to think that she loves me, after all ! " he 
 reflected.
 
 CONCLUSION. 427 
 
 They left for home a day or two later, and at the 
 little station a genuine surprise awaited them. The 
 station agent handed them a sealed letter, which they 
 lost no time in reading: 
 
 "Mv DEAR OLD SYD AND LELE: 
 
 "Just 'round the corner you will find Venus hitched to 
 your buggy. I lost Di last week and it seemed a judgment 
 on me for the mean tricks I had served you in getting Venus 
 away from your stepfather. So I give her back to you, for I 
 know, Syd, that you never regretted anything more than the 
 loss of her. I know now how to sympathize with you as I 
 never did befoie, for one may become attached even to a 
 horse. 
 
 " Lele, my dear friend, it took me two years to get over 
 the little scene in the graveyard. I felt heartbroken, then, 
 but after all you never led me on, as some girls would have 
 done, never gave me any real encouragement. I am glad 
 now that it was Syd rather than any other fellow who won 
 your heart, for I know how good and true he is, far nobler 
 than I can ever be. 
 
 ' ' Ever your f riend, 
 
 "WARD." 
 
 " Syd," said Lele, with misty eyes, " if Ward had 
 been half the man then that he is now, I don't know 
 but that he might have won my love while you were 
 concealing yours in horror of my little fortune.*' 
 
 " I'm glad his best traits developed late in life, 
 then," Syd replied, laughingly. " But I like to believe 
 that you were foreordained to be my wife, and couldn't 
 have been anybody's else. Besides, as to Ward, there's 
 room for improvement in the old fellow yet, if all 
 reports are to be believed."
 
 428 THE; MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 " Jennie can see no room for improvement, I 
 imagine," said Lele. 
 
 " No ; since she is home from school this spring, 
 Ward is all devotion. I'm sorry to see it, for while 
 I've always liked Ward (except as a rival!), I must 
 say it would be a pity to see a talented girl like Jen 
 marry a son of Si Collins." 
 
 " You and Jennie together could keep him straight." 
 
 " Did you ever see a barn stand a gale that had to 
 be propped on both sides? Well, I never did. There 
 are breakers ahead for Ward, and more trouble for a 
 wife of Jen's temperament than you would imagine, 
 judging him by what he was when you knew him. 
 Morris St. John has had him in hand for two years." 
 
 " It hasn't helped him any, I am sure." 
 
 " I should think not. I hate to criticise the dear 
 old fellow when I'm driving Venus as his gift. God 
 knows I wish him well, and if there's anything under 
 the sun that I can do to help him, I'll go out of my 
 way to do it. The worst of it is, he's about as little 
 to be depended on as a live wire, or a balance-wheel out 
 of balance, or an automobile in the hands of a million- 
 aire. And now," he added in a happier tone, " let's 
 talk of something better worth while than finding fault 
 with neighbors who send us such lovely bridle presents. 
 Lele, how does Ed's religion hold out?" 
 
 " All right. It was the only thing that could ever 
 have made a man of him. You used to be skeptical 
 yourself, Syd, I remember." 
 
 " Yes, in the dark days of hopeless drudgery. It
 
 CONCLUSION. 429 
 
 was enough to try any man's faith. Thank Heaven, 
 that's all past now. I expect to live and die a Chris- 
 tian." 
 
 Arrived at home in the soft summer twilight, Lele 
 seemed the very embodiment of happiness as she stood 
 on the veranda under the fragrant honeysuckles and 
 received the congratulations of the friends who were 
 assembled to greet her, among them Ward, looking 
 as gay and handsome as ever ; and Maud, still the belle 
 of the Ridge, though Rumor said that Jennie McKnight 
 might successfully have contested with her for su- 
 premacy had the latter cared to try, for Jennie had 
 wonderfully improved during these two years, and 
 Maud's blonde beauty was beginning to fade. That 
 young lady had captivated a new beau at this time 
 a young lawyer from Harrisburg and seemed totally 
 indifferent to her former admirers, Ward and Keith, 
 who were respectively attentive to Jennie and Alice 
 Stuart. 
 
 The faithless Ol was scattering smiles and witti- 
 cisms on all sides, but his choicest were still impar- 
 tially divided between Cora and Sue Hubbard, who 
 were inseparable chums, as of old. 
 
 The old farm-house, if not much changed exter- 
 nally, was greatly improved within, fqr snowy curtains 
 had replaced the old faded hangings ; new paper bright- 
 ened the walls, and new carpets added to the comfort 
 and elegance of the rooms. 
 
 Ward greeted the bridal party very cordially, 
 though with no allusion to Venus, whom the whole
 
 43O THE MAN WITH THE HOE. 
 
 family welcomed home almost as gladly as they did 
 Lele herself. 
 
 " You're a brick, you are, to give Venus back to 
 Syd," Charlie exclaimed. " I hope every timber I've 
 got will be shivered to splinters if I ever call you stingy 
 again." 
 
 Ward laughed, and then sighed as Syd added his 
 thanks to Charlie's. 
 
 "Don't mention it again, old man," he said. " You 
 make me feel like the dickens. I declare you do ! " 
 flourishing his handkerchief with a tearful laugh. 
 
 " I'm glad the old friendly feeling is restored,", said 
 Syd, heartily. 
 
 " And restored for good this time, I hope," Ward 
 replied, leaning on his friend's arm in the old dependent 
 way. " You're going to have me on your hands yet 
 as a relative, perhaps, though you objected to me once." 
 
 " No. I always recommended you." 
 
 " I want you to recommend me to somebody else 
 to more purpose." 
 
 " I will with all my heart, Ward ; but somebody 
 else has her head so full of music and a ' career ' at 
 present that I fear it will be useless." 
 
 " Her ambition now is to go to New York to have 
 her voice cultivated, I hear," said Ward. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I think I can settle that," Ward remarked, con- 
 fidently. 
 
 Syd was silent. 
 
 " I think Jean will give up her career when she
 
 CONCLUSION. 431 
 
 finds that I am determined to become a relative of 
 yours," Ward added. 
 
 Again Syd was silent. When he looked at Jean, 
 who had developed into noble and self-reliant woman- 
 hood, he doubted much if Ward would ever become 
 a relative of his. 
 
 Yet Mr. Markley was married again, and Jennie 
 seemed perfectly indifferent to all admirers save one! 
 
 THE END.
 
 A 000 443 834 7