g to that bedstead. That's been broke off ever since you cleaned
house last Fall, Maw."

"Oh! Well! Is that it?" repeated Mrs. Day. Then, when she and her
husband were alone in the kitchen, before the young folk came down, she
said, pointing the fork at him: "I declare for't! I'd feel ashamed if I
was you, Jason Day."

"What for?" demanded her husband, scowling.

"Lettin' Broxton's gal do that. You could ha' tacked on that leg forty
times if you could once. Ain't that true?"

But Mr. Day refused to quarrel. He took a long drink from the pail of
fresh water Marty had brought. Then he said, tentatively:

"Breakfast most ready, Almiry? I'm right sharp-set."

When Janice and Marty came down they were not talking of the bedstead at
all. But Aunt 'Mira was rather gloomy all through the meal, and looked
accusingly at her husband every time she heaped his plate with pork, and
cakes, and "white gravey."

Mr. Day quite ignored these looks. He was even chatty--for him--with
Janice. It was a school day, and Janice hurried to put on her hat and
get her school bag, into which she slipped the luncheon that her aunt
very kindly put up for her. Aunt 'Mira had really begun to "put herself
out" for her niece, and the luncheon was always tasty and nicely
arranged.

"Wait for me, Marty!" she cried, as her cousin was sliding out of the
door in his usual attempt to get away unobserved, and so not be called
back for any unexpected chores.

"Aw, come on! A gal's always behind--like a cow's tail!" growled the
chivalrous Marty. "What you want?"

Janice gave him a quarter of a dollar secretly. "Now, you get that pump
leather and you bring it home this noon. Just put it on the table by
your father's plate," she commanded. "You going to do it for me?"

"Sure," grinned Marty. "And I'll see that he don't lose it, nuther. I
know Dad. He'll need more than _that_ suggestion to git him started on
that old pump."

"We'll try," sighed Janice; and then Marty ran on ahead of her to
overtake one of his boy friends. He would have been ashamed to be caught
walking with his girl cousin by daylight, and on the public streets of
Poketown!

After school that day, when Janice arrived again at the old Day house,
the first thing she heard was her aunt's complaining voice begging Marty
to go down to Dickerson's for a bucket of water.

"What's the matter with Dad?" demanded the boy. "Didn't I bring him that
pump leather? Huh!"

"Mebbe your father will