THE MONTCLAIR KINGBIRD 
I 
OR as long as any one could remember, 
| Pere Baukman had lived in the same 
old rambling frame house at the edge of 
the town. In his younger days he had raised 
flowers and had a large greenhouse on the four 
acres where he grew them; but that was before 
Mrs. Baukman died. Since then his business 
had gone down and for years he had grown 
nothing but a few vegetables in their season; 
and, when especially hard pressed for money, 
had hired out to other people who needed help 
in their gardens. He was a cross, gloomy old 
fellow and appeared to have no friends in the 
town. 
Once, a long time ago, he was known as 
“Mr. Baukman’’; but now when any one chanced 
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