: if our children have no
proper appreciation of such things, it is certainly _our_ fault. We
older ones have been remiss in our duty."

This seemed to take the Elder aback. He stared at the younger man for
a moment; but as he turned away he muttered:

"It's all nonsense! And it's just as I've said. No peace since that
Day girl came to town."

Mr. Middler had the courage of his convictions for once. He said
nothing more to rasp the old gentleman's feelings and prejudices; but
he backed up the young people in their attempt to freshen up the old
church. He mingled with them more than ever he had before; and from
that contact with their young and hopeful natures he carried into his
pulpit a more joyful outlook upon life. Mr. Middler was growing, along
with his young people, and he really preached a sermon now and then in
which there wasn't a doctrinal argument!

Not that Janice held a very important position in the young people's
society. But she had belonged to one back in Greensboro, in her own
beloved church, and she had helped form this Poketown organization.
She would not take office in this new society, for all the time she
hoped that her father's affairs would change and they might be together
again.

There was never a day begun that Janice did not hope that this reunion
might be consummated soon; and the desire was a part of her bedside
prayer at night. She was no longer lonely, or even homesick, in
Poketown. She really loved her relatives, and she knew that they loved
her. She had made many friends, and her time was fairly well occupied.

But her longing for Daddy seemed to grow with the lapse of time. She
wanted to see him so much that it actually _hurt_ when she allowed
herself to think about it!

"Ain't you ever goin' to be still a minute, Janice?" complained her
aunt frequently. "You're hoppin' 'round all the time jest like a hen
on a hot skillet, I declare for't!"

"Why, Aunt 'Mira," she told the good lady, "I couldn't possibly sit
with my hands folded. I'd rather work on the treadmill than do _that_."

"You wait till you've worked as many years as I have--an' got as leetle
for it," said Aunt 'Mira, shaking her head. "You won't be so spry,"
and with that she buried herself in her story paper again.

There was an improvement, however, even in Aunt 'Mira. She could not
leave the "love stories" alone, and if she had a particularly exciting
one, she would sit down in her chair in the m