as in the former year.
The children grew, mentally and physically, now mother, and now sister Mildred, "teaching the young ideas how to shoot;" for they could not endure the thought of resigning the precious darlings to the tender mercies of Damaris Drybread, whose school was still the only one in town.
The old intimacy was kept up in just the old way among the coterie of six, and the gossips vainly puzzled their brains with the question which girl was the admired and admirer of which young man.
Mildred was happily freed from the visits of Ransquattle—of which Lu Grange had become the impatient and disgusted recipient—and saw little of Gotobed Lightcap, who, upon one excuse, or another, absented himself from most of the merry-makings of the young people.
Indeed there had been scarcely any intercourse between the two families since the removal of the Keiths from the immediate neighborhood of the Lightcaps; for there was no similarity of taste, no common bond of interest to draw them together; nothing in truth, save a kind and friendly feeling toward each other; and as regarded Rhoda Jane, even this was lacking.
She had never yet forgiven Mildred's rejection of her brother and almost hated her for it, though she knew naught of her added offense in the matter of the criticism on his letter. That was a secret which Gotobed kept faithfully locked in his own breast.
The spring opened early for that climate; with warm rains that brought vegetation forward rapidly.
The Keith children revelled in out door work and play; each of the younger ones had a little garden to dig and plant as he or she pleased, and a pet hen or two in the chicken yard, and there was much good-natured rivalry as to who should have the earliest vegetables, the greatest variety of flowers, the largest broods of young chicks, or the most newly laid eggs to present to father and mother, or the invalid of the hour; for the old enemy—ague—still visited them occasionally; now one, now another, or it might be several at once, succumbing to its attacks.
However, the lion's share of both gardening and poultry-raising fell to Rupert; who busied himself out of study hours, with these and many little odd jobs of repairing and adorning—such as mending fences, putting up trellises, training vines and trimming shrubbery and trees.
The mother and Mildred found so much to do within doors, that some oversight and direction of these younger workers, and the partial care of a few flower-beds near the house, were all they could undertake outside.
They had been without a domestic for some weeks, had passed through the trying ordeal of the regular spring house-cleaning with only Mrs. Rood's assistance, when one pleasant May morning, while dishing up breakfast, their hearts were gladdened by the sight of the sinewy form and energetic countenance of Celestia Ann Hunsinger as she stepped in at the kitchen door with a characteristic salutation.
"How d'ye, Mis' Keith? You don't want no help round here, do ye?"
"We want just the sort of help we'll be sure of if you'll take off your bonnet and stay," Mrs. Keith answered, giving her a hearty grip of the hand.
"Then that's what I'll do and no mistake," returned the girl, setting down a bundle on a chair, with the remark, "You see I've brought some o' my duds along," pulling off her sunbonnet and hanging it on a nail. "Here, Miss Mildred, let me smash them 'taters."
"So Mis' Keith, you've been buildin' since I was here last."
"Yes; a new kitchen; so we could take the old for a dining-room and be less crowded."
"It's awful nice; I always did like a good big kitching;—room to turn round and keep things straight."
"It's going to be nicer still, Celestia Ann," said Rupert who had just come in from his work in the garden, and was washing his hands preparatory to taking a seat at the table, "it wants a coat of paint on the outside and I'm going to put it on myself, to-day."
"Well, I never!" she ejaculated, "do ye think you're up to that?"
"Of course I do; and so, I suppose, do father and mother; or they wouldn't have consented to let me try."
"Well, there's nothin' like tryin'; as I've found out in my own experience," returned Miss Hunsinger, using her potato masher vigorously, "and I allers enjoy meetin' with folks that's willin' fur it. But do you know, Mis' Keith, 'pears to me like 'I can't' comes the easiest to most human critters' tongues of any two words in the American language; and with more'n half on 'em they're lyin' words; yes, there's more lies told in them two words than in any other ten. So there!" as she laid down her masher to stir in the milk, butter and salt.
"I'm afraid there is only too much truth in your remark," said Mrs. Keith, "but certainly no one can accuse you of a fondness for that favorite phrase of the indolent and ease-loving."
"Thank you, Mis' Keith. I've lots of faults and failin's as well's the rest o' the human family, but I'm certain sure there ain't no lazy bone in my body.
"Here these taters is ready to set on the table, and I see you've got your steak and biscuits dished up. But I hain't inquired after the fam'ly. Anybody got the agur?"
"No, I believe we are all well this morning thanks to a kind Providence. Rupert, call your father and the rest to breakfast."
No frowns greeted Celestia Ann as she, with her accustomed nonchalance, took her place with the others. Everybody was glad to see her, because her arrival meant comparative rest for mother and Mildred, and more time to be devoted by them to the loving care and entertainment of father and the younger children.
After breakfast, family worship. Then Mr. Keith went to his office and the others scattered to their work or play. Sunbonnets and hats were in request among the little ones; for mother had given permission to go out if they would be careful to keep on the gravel walks till the dew was off the grass.
Sister Mildred gave kind assistance, and away they ran, while she and Zillah and Ada, old enough now to begin to be useful about the house, made beds, dusted and set things to rights in sleeping and dwelling rooms, and Rupert donned a suit of overalls and went to his chosen task.
Celestia Ann needed but little direction or oversight, and in half an hour Mrs. Keith repaired to the sitting-room.
What a pleasant place it seemed as she came in!—fresh and bright from its recent cleaning, neat as a new pin, the open windows looking out upon the grassy side yard, with its shrubbery and trees clothed in vivid green, and giving a charming view of the clear waters of the swiftly flowing river sparkling in the sunlight.
"Isn't it a lovely morning, mother?" cried Mildred, whose graceful figure was flitting about here and there, putting a few finishing touches to the adornments of the room. "I think the sunshine was never brighter, the air never sweeter. It is a luxury just to live! Hark to that robin's song and the sweet prattling of the little voices you and I love so well! And I feel as blithe and gay as a bird."
"Yes, dear child," said the mother, happy tears springing to her eyes, "Oh, how great is His goodness to us unworthy creatures! so much of mercy and blessing here and the certainty of endless joy and bliss beyond! Life has its dark and dreary days, but after all there is more of brightness, to those who look for it, than of gloom."
"I believe that is true, mother," responded Mildred, "though when the dark and dreary days are upon us, it is sometimes very difficult to hold fast to one's faith.
"I do love this time of year," she added, leaning from the window to watch the ferryboat slowly crossing,
"'Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie.'"
"Come, let us go out; I think we may spare an hour to the garden this morning," Mrs. Keith said gayly, leading the way. "What a blessing, among others, it is to have a good reliable girl in the kitchen!"
"Yes," laughed Mildred, "I could almost have hugged Celestia Ann; I was so glad to see her. What do you suppose brought her just at this time, mother?"
"Need of money for summer finery, I presume. See, our morning glories are coming up nicely."
"Mother,