ch.

"But that pump ain't 'goin'," declared Mrs. Day. "An' no knowin' when
'twill be goin'. We have ter lug all our water from Dickerson's."

"Oh, gimme the bucket!" snapped Uncle Jason, putting his great, hairy
hand inside the door and snatching the water-pail from the shelf.
"Wimmen-folks is allus a-clatterin about suthin'!"

Janice had never imagined people just like these relatives of hers.
She was both ashamed and amused,--ashamed of their ill-breeding and
amused by their useless bickering.

"Wa-al," said her aunt, yawning and lowering herself upon the kitchen
couch, the springs of which squeaked complainingly under her weight,
"Wa-al, 'tain't scurcely wuth doin' the dishes _now_. Jason'll stop
and gab 'ith some one. It takes him ferever an' a day ter git a pail
o' water. You go on about your play, Niece Janice. I'll git 'em done
erlone somehow, by-me-by."

Mrs. Day closed her eyes while she was still speaking. She was
evidently glad to relax into her old custom again.

Janice took down her aunt's sunbonnet from the nail by the side door
and went out. Amusement had given place in the girl's mind to
something like actual shrinking from these relatives and their ways.
The porch boards gave under even her weight. Some of them were broken.
The steps were decrepit, too. The pump handle was tied down, she
found, when she put a tentative hand upon it.

"'It jest rattles,'" quoted Janice; but no laugh followed the sigh
which was likewise her involuntary comment upon the situation.

CHAPTER IV

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

There was a long, well-shaded yard behind the house, bordered on the
upper hand by the palings of the garden fence. Had this fence not been
so over-grown by vines, wandering hens could have gone in and out of
the garden at pleasure.

Robins were whisking in and out of the tops of the trees, quarreling
over the first of the cherry crop. Janice heard Marty's hoe and she
opened the garden gate. About half of this good-sized patch was given
over to the "'tater" crop; the remainder of the garden seemed--to the
casual glance--merely a wilderness of weeds. There may have been rows
of vegetable seeds planted there in the beginning; but now it was a
perfect mat of green things that have no commercial value--to say the
least.

Marty was about halfway down the first row of potatoes. He was
cleaning the row pretty well, and the weeds were wilting in the sun;
but the rows were as crooked as