ath!" cried Mr. Bray, wiping his eyes. "I
refuse to be laid on the shelf. I hope I am not useless----"

"My goodness me! Far from it," cried 'Phemie. "But you'll be lots more
help to us when you are perfectly well and strong again."

"There'll be plenty you can do without taxing your strength--and without
keeping you indoors," Lyddy added. "Just think if we get the chicken
business started. You can do all of that--after the biddies are hatched."

"I feel so much better already, girls," declared their father, gravely,
"that I am sure I shall have a giant's strength before fall."

Aunt Jane had written them, however, certain advice which the doctor at
the hospital had given to her regarding Mr. Bray. He was to be discouraged
from performing any heavy tasks of whatsoever nature, and his diet was
to consist mainly of milk and eggs--tissue-building fuel for the system.

He had worked so long in the hat shop that his lungs were in a weakened
state, if not actually affected. For months they would have to watch him
carefully. And to return to his work in the city would be suicidal.

Therefore were Lyddy and 'Phemie more than ever anxious to make the
boarders' project pay. And with the Colesworths' fifteen dollars a week
it seemed as though a famous start had been made in that direction.

By serving simple food, plainly cooked, Lyddy was confident that she could
keep the table for all five from the board paid by Mr. Colesworth and
his son. If they got other boarders, a goodly share of _their_ weekly
stipends could be added on the profit side of the ledger.

Lucas helped them for a couple of hours Monday morning, and the girls
managed to put the room the newcomers had chosen into readiness for the
old gentleman. Lucas drove to town to meet Mr. Colesworth. Lucas was
beginning to make something out of the Bray girls' project, too, and he
grinned broadly as he said to 'Phemie:

"I'm goin' to be able to put up for a brand new buggy nex' fall, Miss
'Phemie--a better one than Joe Badger's got. What 'twixt this cartin'
boarders over the roads, and makin' Miss Lyddy's garden, I'm going to be
well fixed."

"On the road to be a millionaire; are you, Lucas?" suggested 'Phemie,
laughing.

"Nope. Jest got one object in view," grinned Lucas.

"What's that?"

"I wanter drive you to church in my new buggy, and make Joe Badger an'
that Nettie Meyers look like thirty cents. That's what _I_ want."

"Oh, Lucas! _That_ isn't a very hig