THE HOUSE OF HAPPY HOURS 



93 



a moment with his hands in his pockets. 



'*Huh ! Whitewashing ? I didn't know 

 you-all had bought this old place." 



"We haven^t", said Ned shortly. 



"Well, what yon doin' all that for, 

 thenr 



"Becanse it is needed." 



"'Is oV man Tucker payin^ for it'^? 

 asked the boy with a prematurely devel- 

 oped instinct for business. 



"Is that any of your concern" ? inquired 

 Xed. 



"He owns the place, don't he ?" 

 "Yes." 



"Well, what in the name of goodness, are 

 3^ou-all a whitewashing and fixin' it up so 

 fancy for, if it ain't yours?" 



"I've a good mind to whitewash you", 

 said N"ed, standing up very straight, with 

 brush in hand, for he was not much in love 

 with his job, and the other boy's tone was 

 harassing. 



"Jest dare you" ! and Billy squared off. 



Mrs. Waring had been listening, from 

 the sitting-room window, and when she 

 recognized impending strife, she rose 

 quickly, and went down to the gate. 



"Good evening !" she said pleasantly to 

 Bill}^, ignoring the belligerent attitude of 

 the boys. "I am just getting ready to go 

 into the woods in search of ferns. Can't 

 you go with us? You have lived here so 

 long, you ought to know all the good places 

 for them". 



N'ed turned back to his work, and Billy's 

 elbows dropped. 



"Fearns?" he repeated with the drawl 

 of the genuine Georgia Cracker. "Fox 

 fearns and such ?" 



"Yes, any kind." 



"You bet I know where to find 'em. 

 Say," he said, turning to Ned, "say, if you 

 want to whitewash me, come on and try, 

 and lemme do you up a job, and get 

 through with it. I'm goin' with your ma." 



"So am I", answered Ned, "and I don't 

 believe I will whitewash you, till you get 

 to needing it a little worse." He put his 

 pail away, and they waited amicably to- 

 gether, while Mrs. Wearing went back into 



the house, to emerge at the head of a small 

 procession, well laden with empty bas- 

 kets. Under Billy's guidance, they sallied 

 forth through the thick oak woods, toward 

 the little river not far away. 



"I believe I heard you ask why we were 

 improving the place," Mrs. Waring said 

 to Billy. 



"Yes'm." 



"Well, it is because we are the ones who 

 will have to live in it, and see it all the 

 time. Mr. Tucker does not know yet 

 that we will take good care of the place, 

 so we cannot expect him to do all the 

 little things we want for ourselves." 



"Huh! We all don't drive one single 

 nail that we can do without. We live in 

 one of his old houses, and it is about to 

 tumble down. He's got plenty of 'em, 

 and he is as mean as dirt about fixin' 'em 

 when they need it. I wouldn't be white- 

 washing his old fence for him." 



Mrs. Waring looked down at the old 

 young face, as she listened to the ex- 

 pression of sentiments which she felt no 

 doubt he had imbibed from his elders, and 

 a new light came to her as to the shift- 

 lessness of the renting classes in the small 

 town. A shadow of pain crossed her face, 

 for she was not always able to repress 

 apprehension as to the future, and she 

 wondered if she would have strength to 

 adhere to her ideals, for the sake of her 

 loved ones, or would the subtle, demoraliz- 

 ing influences of adversity finally overcome 

 her. She had not allowed herself to look 

 backward, or to compare her own situation 

 with that of her friends, but, while she 

 had taken up the new burdens of her life 

 courageously, she was aware that she was 

 feeding her ioui with the hope that it was 

 but a temporary change, which she must 

 make the best of, until prosperity should 

 have come to them again. What if they 

 must live their lives thus for years and 

 years ? Billy's words had started a train of 

 thought which forced the question upon 

 her. 



She followed on into the cool shady 

 hollows of Magnolia Glen where overhead 



