turday evening throughout the season--pop-corn
refreshments and corn-stalk-fiddle music, with conversation!"

Bob was first to respond. With a shout, he dashed into the long
drawing-room, from which the musicians had now departed, and relieved
his feelings by turning a series of handsprings from one end of it to
the other.

Alec, who had not much cared to spend the winter in the country, but had
of late become immensely drawn toward Donald Ferry, reflected that there
might be good times forthcoming out here which would never happen in
town. So he grinned pleasantly enough.

Uncle Timothy, beaming, said, "That's very good!" to Mrs. Burnside, and
she returned warmly:

"Indeed, I think it is, Mr. Rudd."

Josephine clapped both her hands, then ran to wring Sally's and Max's,
declaring joyfully:

"You'll be the most popular resort outside the city."

Jarvis followed, to observe, in a calm tone--to cover his delight, though
he succeeded in only partially concealing it from Max, and not at all
from Sally--"I think it's a wise decision, and I hope it will mean a
partnership in strawberries and squashes next summer. You'll see me out
soon with seed-catalogues--since we didn't find any behind that locked
door last April."

"We shall be so glad to have such neighbours for the winter," said Mrs.
Ferry, with genuine pleasure in her face. "And I hope Donald and I can do
something toward making you feel that you have real country neighbours of
the kind who are counted as assets."

"If it weren't for you people, I don't think I should have the courage to
try it," acknowledged Max.

"We'll make it such a winter you'll never have the courage to go back,"
prophesied Ferry. "I have a pair of toboggans stowed away somewhere; I'll
send for them when the snow comes. That slope from your timber lot down
across the fields--"

Bob, returning from the handspring episode, caught these words and raised
a whoop of anticipation. "Hi--toboggans!" he was heard to ejaculate at
intervals during the next ten minutes.

"Sally," said Uncle Timothy Rudd, "up in New Hampshire, where I used to
live before I came to stay with your family, there is an attic full of
old furniture which belonged to my father. I have never disposed of it,
because certain associations made me have an affection for it. It is
pretty old style, and not, I am afraid, in very good condition, but if
you care for it--"

"Oh, Uncle Timmy! No matter how old it is or how shak