1005. 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
8i5 
The Case of Olivia. 
Mr. Endicott looked toward the street, 
and a frown gathered on his face. Mrs. 
Endicott’s glai.ee followed his to where 
Olivia stood at the end of the gravel 
walk, talking to a young man. 
“We'll have to put a stop to that busi¬ 
ness,” said Mr. Endicott severely. “That 
fellow!” he added contemptuously. “A 
cheap family and a cheap specimen of it.” 
“Don’t say anything when she comes 
in,” urged Mr*. Endicott anxiously as the 
girl came toward the house. “It would 
only make matters worse. I have a plan, 
and I’ll tell you about it when we can be 
alone.” 
Olivia came in flushed and smiling, her 
eyes bright She seemed happy, but did 
not talk much, and helped her mother as 
usual about getting tea. That evening, 
when the house was still, the father and 
mother sat talking. 
“What are we going to do about it?” 
asked Mr. Endicott. “Forbid his coming 
around here?—or send her off some¬ 
where ?” 
“Neither,” said his wife. “I’ve given a 
great deal of thought and study to the 
question, and 1 think I see how to deal 
with it in the simplest and most natural 
way. You see it has been going on only 
a little while, and has not actually become 
serious. She cannot really care for him, 
for he is not our kind at all. He has no 
education, and he is not interested in the 
same things she is, but don’t you see, dear, 
he is the only man she secs very much of, 
and naturally his attentions flatter her and 
she thinks she likes him. If it goes on 
she will get the idea firmly fixed in her 
mind that he is the only one in the world 
for her, and if we waited too long it 
would be impossible to change her opin¬ 
ion, and you know such affairs thrive on 
opposition.” 
“But what is your remedy?” Mr. Endi¬ 
cott spoke a little impatiently. “She’s out 
of school now, and doesn’t have so much 
to take up her mind. I don't see how we 
are going to keep her from getting inter¬ 
ested in any Peter Woodard that happens 
along.” 
“My idea is that if a girl sees more or 
less of a good many men, she isn’t nearly 
as likely to make a fool of herself over 
one. So I’ve been thinking that you 
could let Olivia do all the farm errands at 
the village. She will see people then, and 
it will occupy her mind and get it off of 
that young man, and besides, it will re¬ 
lieve you of some care.” 
“We’ll try it,” said Mr. Endicott du¬ 
biously, “but I am afraid it is too simple 
a remedy.” 
The next morning at the breakfast 
table, Mr. Endicott said in a casual way, 
“Do you suppose you could drive Dolly 
over to Greensboro to Mr. Torrey’s to 
have her shod?” 
“Why. of course I could.” said Olivia, 
brightening. “I’d like to, it’s such a love¬ 
ly morning.” 
“Well, help Mother do the dishes and 
I’ll have the horse ready for you.” 
The dishes were done in quick time, 
and Olivia drove off down the street. 
“You can wait in the blacksmith’s shop 
and learn how to shoe horses yourself.” 
her father called after her. 
“Why did you send her way over to 
Greensboro?” his wife questioned. 
“Well, Torrey is an extra nice fellow 
and he’s bright and intelligent. Besides, 
he doesn’t have the crowd hanging around 
that the other blacksmith does. He’ll be 
pleasant, and talk to her, and give her 
something to think about.” 
When Olivia came home she could 
hardly wait to get into the house to tell 
her mother of her experiences. “I had a 
lovely time.” she said eagerly. “The ride 
was so pleasant, and Dolly went good. 
Then when I got to Mr. Torrey’s I told 
him who I was and lie was ever so nice. 
I sat down on a nail-keg and watched 
him work, and he told me about the 
best way to shoe a horse. After he got 
the shoes fitted, his man nailed them on 
and finished the hoofs off, and while he 
was doing that, Mr. Torrey showed me 
his upsetting machine, that he sets tires 
with, you know. Instead of cutting a 
piece out of a tire they heat it red hot 
and put it into that machine and squeeze 
it together, so as to make it smaller. 
And he gave quite a lecture about the 
right heat for welding, and showed me 
how the temper runs out on a piece of 
steel, and that when it is just such a 
color it must be put in the water to stop 
it, so it won’t be too hard and break, or 
too soft and get dull right off. It was a 
pickajj: he was sharpening. He had a 
whole lot of picks to sharpen; they are 
the ones the Italians are using to dig for 
the town water, and the town pays him 
for the work. I was really sorry when I 
had to come away, he talked so interest¬ 
ingly. I think he’s as nice as he can be.” 
Mr. Endicott was thinking of buying 
a cream separator, and the next day he 
sent Olivia to a farm six miles away to 
see a separator that was in use there. 
She came home full of enthusiasm. “I 
got there just in time to see it run,” she 
said, “and the man was real kind and told 
me all about how it worked, and took it 
to pieces and showed me how he washed 
it. Then lie showed me the engine that 
runs it, and the silos where they have 
their silage, and the cows,—oh, lovely 
cows, nearly a hundred of them.” And 
so she ran on, talking of nothing else all 
day but the things she had seen. 
It was a busy time for Olivia, and at 
the end of a fortnight she had added 
quite a number of men.to her list of ac¬ 
quaintances. There was the grocer—her 
father began trading at a different store 
because the proprietor was a man of in¬ 
telligence and high character—who talked 
with her about topics of the day; the 
bank cashier, who had a pleasant word 
for her; the grain dealer, who showed her 
all over his buildings and explained the 
machinery and the new electric motor that 
ran it. Everyone knew her father, and 
everyone she met seemed pleased to see 
her and glad to spend time to tell her 
about his work, in which she took a lively 
interest. She also had an errand at the 
lawyer’s and at the doctor’s, so she had 
a look at the professional world. 
Olivia laughed as she reviewed the two 
weeks. “I don’t know, mother, which I’d 
rather be if I were a man,—a blacksmith, 
a farmer, a business man, a banker, doc¬ 
tor. lawyer, electrician, but I think,” and 
she laughed again, “that I’d do express¬ 
ing, as I have been doing, and go errands 
that will take me to all these various 
places and give me a chance to talk with 
all sorts and conditions of men.” 
“What do you think?” asked Mrs. End¬ 
icott of Mr. Endicott, at about this time. 
“I think your plan has worked to a 
charm,” he said. “She seems so happy 
and interested in everything. And be¬ 
sides all that, you’ve no idea what a help 
she is to me. She’s got a level head and 
does the errands as well as T could, and 
it seems to me I have twice as much time 
to work on the farm as I had before. It 
is surprising how many errands there are 
to be done. I’m greatly pleased with the 
plan, and I guess ’we won’t have to worry 
about that young sprig any more.” 
“I don’t think we will.” said Mrs. Endi¬ 
cott. “What do you think she said about 
him the other day? We saw him going 
.by, and she stepped back from the win¬ 
dow so he wouldn’t see her. ‘It’s too bad 
about him,’ she said. ‘I used to think 
he was a pleasant boy, but within a few 
days I’ve found out that he goes around 
with a class of fellows that are not very 
nice. I saw him one day and he was act¬ 
ing like a regular rowdy.’ She didn’t 
say anything for awhile and then she 
went on, coloring up a little: ‘Since I’ve 
seen so many pleasant people—men who 
are bright and smart and amount to some¬ 
thing in the world—I’ve changed my 
standards of what a young fellow ought 
to be.’ Oh, John! I was thankful when 
I heard her say that.” 
Mr. Endicott took his wife’s hand in 
his and gave it a squeeze, looking at her 
admiringly. “You’ve got a great head, 
my dear, and I’m proud of you,” he said. 
SUSAN BROWN ROBBINS. 
HOW 
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MRS. GEORGE KEITH, of 
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