Winning Her Way 



THE STORY OF A CHANGE OF HEART 



BY EBEN E. REX FORD 



Chapter I. 



UNCLE SI SLOCUM, who carried 

 the mail between Hobart's Corners 

 and Hohnesville, did all sorts of 

 ■errands for everybody along his route, 

 and acted as a sort of rural postal delivery 

 man, brought his old horse to a standstill 

 ■one afternoon in July before a rather 

 dilapidated old farm house which gave 

 one the impression of belonging to a per- 

 son Avho wasn't very neighborly. This 

 was probably due to the fact that the path 

 to the front gate was grown up to weeds 

 * and grass. 



"Hi, there !" called out Uncle Si to a 

 woman who was hoeing in a vegetable gar- 

 den at the back of the house. "Here's a 

 letter for ye, ]\ris' Peabody." 



The person addressed finished cutting 

 down the few last weeds remaining in the 

 row before she responded to the call. Then 

 she hung her hoe upon the limb of an old 

 -cherr^^-tree, and came toward the road. 



"She's bound to take her own time for 

 it," growled Uncle Si to himself. "She's 

 like all the rest o' the Peabodys — they 

 do things when they good 'n' ready, 'n' 

 not a minnit sooner ; 'n' the more you tried 

 to hurry ^em the slower they'd be. I don't 

 h'lieve I ever see a contrarier set o' folks, 

 lake ^em all together, than them same Pea- 

 hodys." 



"I don't see who's took the trouble to 

 w^rite to me," said Miss Betty, as she 

 Teach ed over the fence for the letter. "I 

 hain't had a letter from anybody in much's 

 a year, I guess." 



"Says Peterboro' on the envelope," said 

 Uncle Si, producing the missive from a 

 miscellaneous collection of papers and 

 letters in a box in the front of his wagon. 

 ^^I noticed that when the postmaster give 



it to me. That's the place where yer 

 brother lived, ain't it?" 



"Then it's from Jim's wife," said Miss 

 Betty. "What under the sun an' earth 

 can she be writin' to me for, I'd like to 

 know. You know she'n I never got along 

 well together. Hain't heard a word from 

 her sence Jim died." 



"Oomin' on a visit, mebbe," suggested 

 Uncle Si. "Wrote to let you know, so't 

 you could kind o' git reddy for her, p'r- 

 haps." 



"For the lan's sake, I hope not !" ex- 

 claimed Miss Betty. "I don't b'lieve she'd 

 put herself out much to come to see me. 

 She knows she wouldn't be welcome — she 

 nor none o' the Crahamses. Hard up, 

 more likely, 'n' wants suthin'. That's 

 al'ays the way with her folks. I was dead 

 set ag'inst Jim's marryin' into the fam'ly, 

 but, good land ! 'twan't no use to say any- 

 thing ! Jim'd never lis'en to reason. I'm 

 set in my idees myself, I'm free to say, but 

 I al'ays thought I'd some common sense. 

 Jim couldn't ha' had much or he wouldn't 

 ha' married 'Cindy Graham. He could 

 ha' done better." 



"P'rhaps he liked her," suggested Uncle 

 Si. "That goes a good ways with some 

 folks, ye know." 



"I s'pose it must," said Miss Betty. 

 "If it didn't, it'd be ruther hard accountin' 

 fer some things." 



Miss Betty opened the letter with great 

 deliberation, while Uncle Si, who knew 

 everybody in Hobart's Corners and the 

 region round about, and took an interest 

 in them all, waited to hear the news it 

 contained. 



"Fer the lan's sake!" exclaimed Miss 

 Betty, with an angry ring in her naturally 

 sharp voice. "'Taint from Lucindy. 



