r. Jarvis, stating that they had
really a lawful claim upon The Dale. And she was not surprised, though
much dismayed, to find that her unbusinesslike brother had no such
document in his possession.

CHAPTER VI

SCHOOLDAYS

The Forest Glen School opened on a ripe, warm day near the end of
August. The Dale Valley lay basking in the sunshine, with that look of
perfect rest and content that comes from labor well done. Where the
fields were not heavy with the harvest, the barns were bursting with
it. The orchard trees bent to the earth with their wealth of red and
golden spheres. The wild grape-vines along the roadside were hung with
purple clusters. On sunny slopes the golden-rod waved its yellow
plumes, the herald of autumn, and near, its companion, the aster,
raised its little lavender stars. Summer was at its maturity, warm,
ripe, and dreamily restful, with as yet no hint of days less fair.

But dreams and rest were far from the minds of the Gay Gordons as they
met the gathering clans in the lane to take their journey down the
short-cut to school. Charles Stuart was there, and a crowd of Martins,
and even Wully Johnstone's youngsters, who had come half a mile out of
their way to join the crowd.

Miss Gordon stood at the door, holding little Jamie by the hand, and
watched the happy troop, ladened with schoolbags and dinner-pails, go
down the lane. Jamie cried because his "Diddy" was leaving him, and
there would be nobody to play with, but Miss Gordon saw them depart
with feelings of unmixed pleasure. In a few days Malcolm and Jean
would start for the High School in Cheemaun, and what a relief the
long, quiet genteel days would be with only Annie for a companion!

Down the lane gayly passed the joyous procession. For the rising
generation of Forest Glen had not yet become sophisticated enough to
consider school a hardship. Instead, it was a joy, and often an escape
from harder work. To the Martins, at least, it was. Jake Martin was
indeed a hard man, as the country-side declared, and nowhere did his
hand lie heavier than on his own family. There was a Martin to match
each Gordon and some left over, and not one of them but already showed
signs of toil beyond their young strength. Dairy-farming,
market-gardening, poultry-raising, and every known form of making money
on the farm was carried on by the Martins on an extensive scale, and
everyone, from Mrs. Martin down, was a slave to their swelling