36 HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 



bad ba-ad place. It sho' would!" He chuck- 

 led himself to sleep over that. 



We never heard anything from our first- 

 night visitors. They never tried to pester our 

 brunette. Maybe it's just as well they didn't. 

 There's a sort of grim irony in the fact that 

 Lee is "doing time" now for murder. Those 

 night prowlers were merely making a little 

 cheap noise; but that was our first taste of 

 neighborliness in the new home. We didn't 

 exactly like the flavor. 



Morning came in a burst of brilliance, dewy- 

 fresh, wonderful. You know how such morn- 

 ings affect you; they make you forget how 

 queerly your mind behaved in the night. 

 When we talk about the Resurrection Morn- 

 ing, maybe it's a lot more than a figure of 

 speech. The curl of blue wood-smoke from 

 our breakfast fire rose unafraid in the sun- 

 light; the birds that flitted and fluttered about 

 sang a tune that was mighty different from the 

 melancholy whimpering of the whippoorwill 

 and the owl. We laughed and felt good. 



After breakfast, Laura and I walked around 

 here and there, stopping to loaf now and then, 

 and talking. After all, though it chafed us 

 sometimes like the mischief, it was a good thing 



