THE COUNTRY BOY 103 



in tbwn has gone but us." When she said the 

 word "us" I saw a new world. The old post- 

 office seemed like the Congressional Library, 

 the plain glass jars full of striped stick candy 

 began to look like Tiffany's window; the to- 

 bacco smoke from the post-office had the 

 odor of beautiful roses, and I started to 

 speak but my jaws set. She said several 

 things that I didn't comiDrehend, and when 

 I came to I heard her say, "Somehow no 

 one asks me to go to places and I should like 

 to go so well." I steadied myself by taking 

 hold of the fence, as we had started to walk up 

 the street, and I said that I was afraid there 

 was no more livery rigs, and she said, with the 

 sweetest voice you ever heard, a voice that is 

 still ringing, "Can't you get your father's old 

 horse and buggy?" "Oh," I said, "yes, but 

 that ain't good enough." "Good enough," she 

 said, "I thought it was too good and that's why 

 you never asked me to go in it." It was now 

 dark and we were nearly opposite our house. 

 Old Don, the horse, was in the calf pasture 

 and the old-fashioned high buggy stood under 

 the waffon shed where it was sometimes for 

 months without being used. So we agreed to 



