Phillips was a good-looking young fellow, with a
pleasant smile, a taking manner and a pair of dark eyes which
reminded Mr. Winslow of his sister's. It was easy to believe
Ruth's statement that he had been a popular favorite among their
acquaintances in Middleford; he was the sort the average person
would like at once, the sort which men become interested in and
women spoil.

He was rather quiet during this first call. Babbie did two-thirds
of the talking. She felt it her duty as an older inhabitant to
display "Uncle Jed" and his creations for her relative's benefit.
Vanes, sailors, ships and mills were pointed out and commented
upon.

"He makes every one, Uncle Charlie," she declared solemnly. "He's
made every one that's here and--oh, lots and lots more. He made
the big mill that's up in our garret-- You haven't seen it yet,
Uncle Charlie; it's going to be out on our lawn next spring--and he
gave it to me for a--for a-- What kind of a present was that mill
you gave me, Uncle Jed, that time when Mamma and Petunia and I were
going back to Mrs. Smalley's because we thought you didn't want us
to have the house any longer?"

Jed looked puzzled.

"Eh?" he queried. "What kind of a present? I don't know's I
understand what you mean."

"I mean what kind of a present was it. It wasn't a Christmas
present or a birthday present or anything like that, but it must be
SOME kind of one. What kind of present would you call it, Uncle
Jed?"

Jed rubbed his chin.

"W-e-e-ll," he drawled, "I guess likely you might call it a forget-
me-not present, if you had to call it anything."

Barbara pondered.

"A--a forget-me-not is a kind of flower, isn't it?" she asked.

"Um-hm."

"But this is a windmill. How can you make a flower out of a
windmill, Uncle Jed?"

Jed rubbed his chin. "Well, that's a question," he admitted. "But
you can make flour IN a windmill, 'cause I've seen it done."

More pondering on the young lady's part. Then she gave it up.

"You mustn't mind if you don't understand him, Uncle Charlie," she
said, in her most confidential and grown-up manner. "He says lots
of things Petunia and I don't understand at all, but he's awful
nice, just the same. Mamma says he's choking--no, I mean joking
when he talks that way and that we'll understand the jokes lots
better when we're older. SHE understands them almost always," she
added proudly.

Phillips laughed. Jed's slow smile appeared and vanished.