hen she asked for Mr. Merrick and ran in
to get the breakfast served. For, although blind, old Nora was far from
being helpless, and the breakfast she had prepared in anticipation of
their arrival was as deliciously cooked as if she had been able to use
her eyes as others did.

CHAPTER III

THE DAWN OF A GREAT ENTERPRISE

The great enterprise was sprung on Mr. Merrick the very morning
following his arrival at the farm. Breakfast was over and a group had
formed upon the shady front lawn, where chairs, benches and hammocks
were scattered in profusion.

"Well, Uncle, how do you like it?" asked Louise. "Are you perfectly
comfortable and happy, now we've escaped so far from the city that its
humming life is a mere memory?"

"Happy as a clam," responded Uncle John, leaning back in his chair with
his feet on a foot rest. "If I only had the morning paper there would be
nothing else to wish for."

"The paper? That's what that queer tramp at the Junction House asked
for," remarked Beth. "The first thought of even a hobo was for a
morning paper. I wonder why men are such slaves to those gossipy
things."

"Phoo!" cried Patsy; "we're all slaves to them. Show me a person who
doesn't read the daily journals and keep abreast of the times and I'll
show you a dummy."

"Patsy's right," remarked Arthur Weldon. "The general intelligence and
cosmopolitan knowledge of the people are best cultivated by the
newspapers. The superiority of our newspapers has been a factor in
making us the greatest nation on earth, for we are the best informed."

"My, what big words!" exclaimed Louise.

"It is quite true," said Uncle John soberly, "that I shall miss our
daily paper during our four months' retirement in these fascinating
wilds. It's the one luxury we can't enjoy in our country retreat."

"Why not?" asked Patsy, with startling abruptness, while a queer
expression--as of an inspiration--stole over her bright face.

"Chump!" said Beth, drily; "you know very well why not, Patsy Doyle.
Mooley cows and the fourth estate don't intermingle, so to speak."

"They can be made to, though," declared Patsy. "Why hasn't some one
thought of it before? Uncle John--girls!--I propose we start a daily
paper."

Louise laughed softly, Beth's lip curled and Arthur Weldon cast an
amused glance at the girl; but Uncle John stared seriously into Patsy's
questioning blue eyes.

"How?" he asked in a puzzled tone. If anything could interest this
ecc