gs are just the same, Mark, you'll notice," said Tim, pointing to
a hole in the flooring of the bridge over which we were passing.

The valley had been driving around that same danger spot these ten
years. There was a world of meaning to the returning wanderer in that
broken plank, and it was not hard to catch the glance of my brother's
eye and to know his mind.

Henry Holmes on the front seat, driving, caught the inflection of Tim's
voice and cried testily: "You are allus runnin' the walley down. Why
don't you tell him about the improvements instead of pintin' out the
bad spots in the road?"

"Improvements?" said I, in a tone of inquiry.

"Theop Jones has bought him a new side-bar buggy," replied the old man.
"Then the Kallabergers has moved in from the country and is fixin' up
the Harmon house at the end of the town."

"And a be-yutiful place they're makin' of it," cried Isaac Bolum;
"be-yutiful!"

"They've added a fancy porch," Henry explained, "and are gittin' blue
glass panes for the front door."

"We've three spring-beds in town now," put in Isaac in his slow, dreamy
way. "If I mind right the Spikers bought theirs before war was
declared, so you've seen that one. Well, Piney Martin he has got him
one--let me see--when did he git it, Henery?"

Old Holmes furrowed his brow and closed one eye, seeking with the other
the inspiration of the sky.

"July sixth," he answered. "Don't you mind, Ike, it come the same day
and on the wery same stage as the news of the sinkin' of the Spaynish
fleet?"

"Nonsense," retorted Isaac. "You're allus mixin' dates, Henery.
You're thinkin' of Tip Pulsifer's last baby. He come July six, for
don't you mind how they called him Cevery out of pity and generosity
for the Spayniards? Piney's spring-bed arrived the same day and on the
same stage as brung us the news of Mark here havin' his left leg shot
off."

"Mebbe--mebbe--mebbe," muttered Henry, shaking his head dubiously. "It
certainly do beat all how things happens all at once in this world.
Come to think of it, the wery next day six of my sheep was killed by
dogs."

"It's good you're gittin' your dates cleared," snapped old Bolum. "On
history, Henery Holmes, you are the worst."

Henry retorted with an angry protest against the indictment, declaring
that he was studying history when Bolum was being nourished on "soft
food." That was true. Isaac admitted it frankly. He wasn't his
mother's keeper, that he could