THE RURAL R EW-YORKER 
1173 
The Regeneration of Sarah 
By Beulah Heaston and Anna Nixon 
(Continued from page 1135.) 
“Ilurry up, girls!” called Ben, coming 
in from the barn one morning.in October. 
"This is the last day—we want to get 
the rest of the apples off on the evening 
train.” 
“I’m ready” said Margaret, joining him 
at the gate. “Let’s wait for the girls-— 
they’ll be out in a few minutes.” 
“You’d better hurry or you'll be late to 
school—I heard the bell.” she warned, as 
Joe appeared on the porch with his books 
and lunch basket. 
“Say, Ben, get Alice to let me stay at 
home to-day—I can help a lot with the 
apples,” wheedled Joe. 
“Not much, young man ! You hike for 
school.” 
“Aw, let me stay—Margaret’s goiug 
to,” pleaded Joe with an injured air. 
“That’s a good fellow, Ben. Please tell 
Alice to let me stay,” he whispered, as 
Alice and Sarah came out of the house. 
“How about it, Alice? This chap wants 
to stay at home—you might let him stay 
to-day” interceded Ben. 
“I don’t like for him to miss school, but 
I suppose we’ll really need him to-day,” 
Alice consented reluctantly, as they start¬ 
ed to the orchard. 
The grass was crisp with frost and the 
air was keen and exhilarating as the 
Willards swung along at a brisk pace, 
across the field and tip the hill to the 
orchard. They all were in high spirits, 
even Sarah catching the enthusiasm ; 
and they spent a merry forenoon sorting 
and packing the apples. 
Their cold lunch was hastily eaten at 
noon, for they wished to lose no time in 
getting back to work. Just as they were 
about to leave the house the telephone 
bell rang. 
“Dick Moreland wants to talk to you, 
Sarah,” said Alice, who had answered 
the call. “Don’t waste much time talking 
to him to-day—we must finish that pack¬ 
ing. And don’t forget to lock the door 
when you come out,” and Alice hurried 
out to the wagon. 
“There’s no use waiting for Sarah,” 
she said. “There’s no knowing when 
she’ll be through talking.” 
“She’d better cut it short to-day,” said 
Ben. 
Time slipped away and Sarah did uofc 
appear. At first the others gave little 
heed to her absence, but when two hours 
passed and they began to realize that 
even with her help it would require their 
utmost efforts to finish the work that day, 
they sent Joe to summon her. In a short 
time he returned with a note which lie 
had found pinned to the kitchen door. 
“Gone to the football game at Dalton,” 
read the note. Dalton was the seat of a 
small college, six miles away. 
“I think that’s just hateful in her— 
when she knows that we needed her help 
so much,” exclaimed Alice. 
“It’s just like Sarah,” said Margaret. 
“One never can depend on her.” 
“Ben will be so provoked,” said Alice. 
“We promised to ship the last of the ap¬ 
ples to-night.” 
“Hey, Alice!” called Joe presently, 
“there’s an auto down at the house. 
B’lieve I’ll go down—maybe some one 
wants to see us and won’t know where 
we are.” 
“No, you’d better not stop work. It’s 
probably some one merely stopping for a 
drink.” 
“Why, it must be somebody we know,” 
exclaimed Margaret. “Ben’s stopped at 
the gate and the people are climbing into 
the wagon—they’re coming up here.” 
“Oh, dear! It must be some one we 
know ; and we haven’t time for company 
this afternoon,” Alice said in dismay. 
“And we haven’t a thing prepared for sup¬ 
per.” 
One of the girls in the wagon waved 
gaily in greeting. “It’s Rose—it’s Rose 
Whitman!” exclaimed Alice, forgetting 
her inhospitable remark, and running joy¬ 
fully to meet her guest. Rose had been 
Sarah’s closest friend at college; she lived 
at Stafford, thirty miles distant. 
There were five in the party. Alice had 
never met any of the others except Bruce 
Whitman, Rose’s brother. 
“Come on and get ready, Alice,” said 
Rose. “We’re going to take you and 
Sarah for a ride down the river road and 
stop at Riverside Inn for supper.” 
“Oh—I’d love to, Rose! But I cau’t. 
We simply must finish packing these ap¬ 
ples to-day.” 
“Oh, you must go,” pleaded Rose. 
“Where’s Sarah?” 
“She’s gone to Dalton to a football 
game. I can’t go—we promised to ship 
these apples this evening.” 
“I’ll tell you what!” put in Bruce 
Whitman eagerly. “We’ll all help with 
the apples, and then you can go.” 
“Yes, let’s do!” chorused the others. 
“But we can’t let you do that,” pro¬ 
tested Alice. 
“We’ll not ask you,” laughed Bruce. 
“Ben can superintend us and see that we 
do the work right.” 
The young people had their way and 
made short and merry work of the pack¬ 
ing. 
Rose and her friends insisted that Mar¬ 
garet go in Sarah’s place; and the party 
started away, Alice and Margaret joyous 
over the unexpected treat. 
chapter v. 
M hen Sarah came home from the foot¬ 
ball game she found the doors locked and 
the house deserted. She took the key from 
its hiding place and let herself into the 
kitchen, where she found the fire out and 
no evidence of preparations for supper. 
“I suppose Ben and Joe aren’t home 
from town and the girls are doing some 
of the chores,” she speculated. “I think 
they might have built a fire and started 
supper. They needn’t expect me to come 
home at this hour and get supper.” 
Lighting a lamp Sarah went to her 
room and changed her dress — leisurely, 
because she hoped the girls would return 
and begin getting supper before she went 
down to the kitchen. Finally she grew 
alarmed at their continued absence, and 
going down to the porch called repeated¬ 
ly ; but there was no reply. 
She was afraid to go to the barn to 
look for them. She was cold and hungry, 
so she lighted a fire and went to the pan¬ 
try for something to eat. Her search yield¬ 
ed nothing but a dish of cold potatoes. 
Even bread and butter would have been 
acceptable, but she was afraid to bra re 
the terrors of the dark cellar. She drew 
a chair to the fire and waited. ITesent- 
ly, to her great relief, she heard the 
sound of wagon wheels, and a few min¬ 
utes later Joe came to the house for a 
lantern. 
“Where in the world is everybody?” 
she asked, resentfully. 
“Bet you’d like to be where they are— 
beats going to Dalton all to smash,” Joe 
taunted her. 
“Why, where did they go?” 
“Went for a ride in a dandy big auto 
—gee, it was a peach!” 
“Who came for them?” demanded 
Sarah. 
“That Whitman girl and her brother, 
and I don't know who all. They were 
going to take you, too—if you’d been 
here.” 
“Bruce Whitman—isn't that just like 
my luck! Where did they go?” 
“Somewhere for supper, I guess. 
‘Bruce Whitman!’ Ain’t it a shame, 
though!” he mocked impishly. “Say, 
Ben wants the milk pails. And he said 
I should tell you that we’ll do the feeding 
before supper.” 
“If you want me to get supper you'll 
have to go with me to the cellar and 
smokehouse first,” said Sarah crossly. 
“ ’Fraid cat!” he jeered, but did as 
he was bidden. 
“I wish you’d build a fire in the par¬ 
lor, Ben,” suggested Sarah, after sup¬ 
per. “The Whitmans probably will stop 
for a while on their way home.” 
“It won’t be worth while. They’ll not 
stop when they have thirty miles to go 
tonight.” 
“Of course, they’ll stop. I think it 
strange that you can never do anything 
I ask you.” 
“It is strange,” returned Ben; “es¬ 
pecially when you’re always so consider¬ 
ate of other people; this afternoon, for in¬ 
stance, when you went off to the ball 
game and you knew we needed your 
help.” 
But in spite of his grumbling Ben built 
a fire, while Sarah piled the supper dishes 
in the sink and hurried to her room to 
dress. She might have saved herself the 
trouble, for Rose and her friends stopped 
only long enough to exchange greetings 
with her. 
Sarah did not try to conceal her dis¬ 
appointment, but sulked all evening. She 
never censured herself when anything 
went wrong, and as she had gone selfishly 
off in quest of pleasure and had left the 
others to finish her share of the work, she 
could not place the responsibility on any¬ 
one at the house. She finally convinced 
herself that Dick was to blame. “He had 
no business to ask me to go to that hate¬ 
ful old ball game,” she said to herself at 
last. “I didn’t have a good time at Dal¬ 
ton anyway.” 
(To be continued.) 
A Merry Forenoon Sorting and Packing the Apples. 
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