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But a dozen troubled, needy members who heard the sermon, felt new hope in their hearts, and they got through the following week trials and all! much easier than usual. No millionaire library-giver had found Poketown on the map.
Mary Ann can't tell me that the Widder Petrie started this idea. It was that Day gal, as sure as aigs is aigs!" and Walky nodded a solemn agreement. There was more to it, however, than the giving notice to the people of Poketown that they had a chance to get rid of the collection of rubbish every family finds in cellar, shed, and yard in the spring. People in general had to be stirred up about it.
So, although the school-teacher might have been invited to a dozen evening entertainments during that winter, Janice did not chance to meet him where they could have a "good, long talk" until the Hammett Twins gave their annual Sugar Camp party. The two little old ladies, whom Janice had met so soon after coming to Poketown, had become staunch friends of the girl.
Unless a repair absolutely must be made, Uncle Jason would not take a tool in his hand. If he was a specimen of the Poketown boys, she told herself, she had no desire to meet any of them. "What do you do with yourself all day long, Marty, if you don't go to school?" she asked her cousin, at the dinner table. "Oh, I hang around like everybody else. Ain't nothin' doin' in Poketown."
"The school-teaching bee?" laughed the girl. "Yep. He'd been for his certif'cate. He's been writin' to the Poketown committee." "But but he isn't much more than a boy himself, is he?" "They tell me he's been through college. Must be a smart youngster for, as you say, he's nothin' but a kid." "I didn't say that!" cried Janice, in some little panic, for she knew Dexter's proneness to gossip.
There was never a day begun that Janice did not hope that this reunion might be consummated soon; and the desire was a part of her bedside prayer at night. She was no longer lonely, or even homesick, in Poketown. She really loved her relatives, and she knew that they loved her. She had made many friends, and her time was fairly well occupied.
And if it isn't found I don't don't know what I shall do." He put his arm about her and hugged Janice tight against his side. "Don't lose hope so easily. And see here! Here is something new I forgot to tell you." "What is it, Daddy?" she asked, as he began to search an inner pocket of his coat. "A letter. From your Aunt Almira. Just listen to it." "Oh, Daddy! From Aunt Almira in in Poketown?"
Marvin Petrie, who had married children living in Boston and always spent her winters with them, and had just come back to Poketown again for the season. Many of the ladies of Poketown never thought of making up their spring frocks, or having Mrs. Link, the milliner, trim their Easter bonnets, until Mrs. Marvin Petrie came from Boston.
"The people's just as different as chalk is from cheese; and there ain't a church in Boston and there's hundreds of 'em that don't make our Union Church look silly." "But, Miz' Petrie," cried one inquiring body. "Just what is it that makes Boston so different from Poketown? After all, folks is folks and houses is houses and streets is streets. Ain't that so?" "Wa-al!"
It was in a low-roofed building shouldering upon the highway, with a two-story cottage attachment at the back. Two huge trees overshadowed the place and lent a deep, cool shade to the shaky porch; but the trees made the store appear very gloomy within. Of all the shops Janice had observed in Poketown it seemed that this little store was the most neglected and woeful looking.
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