h too stubborn
to forget it."

"But he'll come back some day and live with you, of course, won't he?"
Phoebe comforted her.

"Yes--some day they'll see things different. But now don't you bother
that head of yourn with such things. You forget all about Nason. Come
now, sit on the bench a little under the arbor."

"Just a little. I must go to the store yet."

"You have lots to do."

"Yes. And I almost forgot what I come for. Aunt Maria wants you should
come out to our place to-morrow early and help with the strawberries if
you can."

"I'll come. I like to come to your place. Your Aunt Maria is so straight
out, nothing false about her. I like her. But now I bet you're thinking
of how many berries you can eat," she added as she noted the child's
abstracted look.

"No--I was thinkin'--I was just thinkin' what a funny name Nason is,
like you tried to say Nathan and got your tongue twisted."

"It's a real name, but you must forget all about it."

"If I can. Sometimes Aunt Maria tells me to forget things, like wantin'
curls and fancy things and pretty dresses but I don't see how I can
forget when I remember, do you?"

"It's hard," Granny said, a deeper meaning in her words than the child
could comprehend. "It's the hardest thing in the world to forget what
you want to forget. But here comes Aaron----"

"Well, well, if here ain't Phoebe Metz with her eyes shining and a pink
rose pinned to her waist and matching the roses in her cheeks!" the old
soldier said as he joined the two under the arbor. "Whew! Mebbe it ain't
hot hoeing potatoes!"

"You're all heated up, Aaron," said Granny. His fifteen years seniority
warranted a solicitous watchfulness over him, she thought. "Now you get
cooled off a little and I'll make some lemonade. It'll taste good to me
and Phoebe, too."

"All right, Ma," Aaron sighed in relaxation. "You know how to touch the
spot. Did you tell Phoebe about the flag?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I think it's fine!" cried the child. "I can't wait till all the
flowers bloom. I want to see it."

"You'll see it," promised the man. "And you bring all the boys and girls
in too."

"And then will you tell us about the war and the Battle of Gettysburg?
David Eby says he heard you once tell about it. I think it was at some
school celebration. And he says it was grand, just like being there
yourself."

"A little safer," laughed the old soldier. "But, yes, when the poppies
bloom you bring the children in and I'll