Winning Her Way 



"BY EBEN E. REXFORD 



( Continued.) 

 Chapter Y. 



MISS BETTY was at work in the 

 garden, spading up a new straw- 

 berry bed. She never asked or 

 expected John to do any work of this 

 kind. Why should she, so long as she 

 could do it for herself? He was hired to 

 do the farm work. The garden work she 

 preferred to see to, for then she knew it 

 was done as it ought to be. 



"Forehanded" Miss Betty certainly was. 

 She owed no one anything, and it was com- 

 monly believed by all her neighbors that 

 she kept quite a little sum of money by 

 her. She was "close" in her dealings, but 

 she was also honest, and no one could 

 say that she had ever tried to cheat him 

 out of a penny. 



Miss Betty liked to work. She had 

 always taken a delight in it. Because the 

 liking had been born with her, she had no 

 sympathy with those who were not as in- 

 dustrious as herself. "Shifless," she 

 termed them. She grew vegetables and 

 small fruits enough in her garden to 

 amply supply all her wants and leave a 

 margin for sale. These she disposed of 

 at good prices, for whatever came from 

 her garden was the best of its kind. In 

 winter she spun yarn and knitted stock- 

 ings for sale, and in these ways she sup- 

 ported herself. All the profits from the 

 farm she was enabled to lay by for a 

 rainy day. 



Miss Betty was calculating how she 

 might save up enough to make good the 

 loss of the old cow, as she spaded up her 

 strawberry bed. 



"Tf it hadn't been fer that girl's comin', 

 I could ha' done it, easy enough," she 

 thought. "But she'll cost me more'n a 

 cow, ev'ry year. I don't see why her 

 mother had to up 'n die, as she did." Miss 



Betty couldn't help feeling as if her sister- 

 in-law deserved a good deal of blame for 

 not living. She almost made herself be- 

 lieve that it afforded the poor woman 

 considerable pleasure to be able to shirk 

 the responsibility of caring for her child 

 upon her. 



A sound that would have escaped the 

 ears of most persons attracted Miss Betty's 

 attention, and she stopped spading to 

 listen. 



"It's somebody clubbin' apple trees," 

 she decided. She tiptoed to the garden 

 fence and peered over into the road. 



"A-ha ! It's you, is it ?" she called out, 

 sharply. "Caught ye right at it, didn't 

 I ? Cit right out o' this, this minnit, or 

 I'll holler to John to set his dog on ye, 

 you missable little thief, you!" 



The boy whom she had discovered in the 

 roadside, throwing clubs at one of her 

 apple trees, hoping to bring down some 

 fruit of which he could possess himself 

 later, put his fingers to his nose and twid- 

 dled them at her in a most insolent 

 fashion. 



"You little wretch !" cried Miss Betty. 

 "I'd give considerable if I c'd lay my 

 ban's on ye !" 



She made as if she had intentions of 

 climbing the^ fence and taking after him. 



"I ain't 'fraid o' you!" sung out the 

 lad, putting himself in readiness, however, 

 to take to his heels in case she attempted 

 to carry out her threatened charge on 

 him. He concluded his declaration of 

 defiance by singing at the top if his voice : 



"Or Maid Peabody never had a beau, 

 'Cause she looked so so-ur, oh, oh, oh !" 



Miss Betty had often been obliged to 

 listen to this doggerel, which some local 

 rhymster had furnished the boys of the 

 neighborhood with for her especial benefit. 

 But though familiarity with it had bred a 



