m. The home would for a time seem desolate, he knew,
but he thought that perhaps they could become used to it; anyway, his
boy must be in school. The school terms would not be long (for only
three or four months of each year were set apart for school purposes);
but even these short terms would be better than none.

To John the change meant more. The five years that he had spent in the
home of his uncle had made his cousins seem to him like brothers; but
still, as he considered his father's plans, he thought, "Perhaps it may
be all right." His aunt was very kind while John and his father were
preparing to move; and the day they bade her good-by she said such sweet
things that he wanted to throw his arms about her neck. To his mind it
was the very way in which his own dear mother would have spoken had she
been alive.

When all was ready for the departure, the aunt said: "John, here are the
two little turkeys that you have liked so well all summer. You may take
them with you. They will help you to forget that you are alone when your
father is away at his work"; and she handed him a small covered basket.
Then the wagon containing their few belongings moved away from the place
that for nearly five years they had called their home.

As they wended their way along the thoroughfare, they saw men at work in
the fields. Some were shucking corn and tossing the bright golden ears
into wagons that were placed between the rows for that purpose, while
others were hauling the grain to their barns to store it away for the
winter's use. The broad corn leaves rustling in the wind seemed to
whisper, "Winter is coming with his cold, bleak storms to rob the earth
of her summer splendor; but he will bring his beautiful coverlet of snow
to protect her fields and to prepare them for the coming year."

The foliage on the small bushes that were scattered here and there
was fading; but the air was still soft and mild. Near the willows
might still be seen the bending goldenrods, asters, and sunflowers.
And occasionally blue smoke could be seen curling up from some
sod-house chimney.

It was evening when the father and his son drove up to the door of their
long-desolate home; the sun was sinking lower and lower in the west. A
few soft glimmers of its mellow light lingered timidly about the doorway
as if to bid the home-comers welcome, and then they were gone. A rabbit,
hopping boldly about in the neglected doorway, stopped suddenly as if
to ask