skipping with happiness. Miss Ann smiled
contentedly while Mrs. Buck gathered up the peach skins and stones
which she had saved with a view to making marmalade, although Judith
assured her that the peach crop was so big that year there would be no
use in such close economy.

"Now, we'll have luncheon and then everybody must take a nap,"
commanded Judith and everybody was very glad to, after the strenuous
morning's work, but first Billy slipped out to the carriage house and
pulled the corn cob out of the bumble bees' hole.

"There now, you po' critters! I reckon you kin call this home too an'
jes' buzz aroun' all you'se a min' ter," the old man whispered
happily.

CHAPTER XXI

The Clan In Conclave

Mr. Bob Bucknor was troubled. He had always prided himself on keeping
an open house for his relations and to him Cousin Ann was a kind of
symbol of consanguinity. He paid very little attention to her as a
rule, except to be scrupulously polite. He had been trained in
politeness to Cousin Ann from his earliest childhood and had
endeavored to bring his own children up with the same strict regard to
hospitality and courtesy to his aged relative. His son had profited by
his teaching and was ever kindly to the old lady, but his daughters
had rebelled, and it could not be denied were even openly rude to the
chronic visitor. Now this project of European travel was afoot and the
problem of what to do with Cousin Ann must be settled. The masculine
representatives of the family were meeting in Ryeville and the matter
was soon under discussion.

"It's the women," declared Big Josh. "They are kicking like steers
and they say they won't stand for her any longer."

"My wife says she has got a nice old cousin who would like to come and
stay with us, and that she does all the darning wherever she stays and
looks after the children besides. Nobody ever heard of Cousin Ann
turning a hand to help anybody," said Little Josh.

"Well, I fancy you have heard the news that I am taking my wife and
daughters abroad this month and I cannot keep the poor old lady any
longer," sighed Bob Bucknor.

"Sure, Bob, we think you've had too much of her already," said Sister
Sue's husband, Timothy Graves, "but Sue says she can't visit with us
any more. The children are big enough now to demand separate rooms and
our house is not very large--not as large as it used to be somehow. In
old days people didn't mind doubling up, but nobody wants to d