readfully shabby, small, and
old-fashioned 42

I soon found that every one else in the office, Anthy
included, had begun to be interested in Nort 91

"I tell you, Miss Doane," said Nort, explosively, "the only
way to make a success of the _Star_ is to publish the truth
about Hempfield----" 169

"Practical!" he exploded. "You are a blackguard, sir! You are
a scoundrel, sir!" 185

The old Captain was perfect. He was a very pattern of
gallantry 268

"Toys! Mere circus tricks to take in fools!" 310

"I couldn't stay away another minute. I had to know what the
old Captain said and did when the flying machine came to
Hempfield" 314

Fergus stuck his small battered volume of Robert Burns's
poems in his pocket--and going out of the back door struck
out for the hills 332

HEMPFIELD

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER I

I DISCOVER THE PRINTING-OFFICE

For years my sister Harriet and I confined our relationships with the
neighbouring town of Hempfield to the Biblical "yea, yea" and "nay,
nay," not knowing how much we missed, and used its friendly people as
one might use an inanimate plough or an insensate rolling-pin, as mere
implements or adjuncts in the provision of food or clothing for our
needs.

It came only gradually alive for us. As the years passed the utilitarian
stranger with whom we traded became an acquaintance, and the
acquaintance a friend. Here and there a man or a woman stepped out of
the background, as it were, of a dim picture, and became a living being.
One of the first was the old gunsmith of whom I have already written.
Another was Doctor North--though he really lived outside the town--whom
we came to know late in his career. He was one of the great unknown men
of this country; he lives yet in many lives, a sort of immortality which
comes only to those who have learned the greatest art of all arts, the
art of life. The Scotch preacher, whom we have loved as we love few
human beings, was also in reality a part of the town, though we always
felt that he belonged to our own particular neighbou