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Updated: May 10, 2025
Mother Atterson was very fond of these flowers and had always managed to coax some of them to grow even in the boarding-house back yard. At the side porch she proposed to have morning-glories and moon-flowers, while the beds in front would be filled with those old-fashioned flowers which everybody loves.
But nobody invited Sister to join the party. The orphan looked wistfully after the wagon as Hiram drove out of the yard. Then she turned, with trembling lip, to Mother Atterson: "She she's awfully pretty," she said, "and Hiram likes her. But she they're all proud, and I guess they don't think much of folks like us, after all." "Shucks, Sister! we're just good as they be, every bit," returned Mrs.
He had tried the fertility of each ear, discarded those which proved weakly, or infertile, and his stand of corn for the four acres, which was now half hand high, was the best of any farmer between the Atterson place and town. But this corn was a hundred-and-ten-day variety.
"I guess it wasn't that," said Hiram, slowly. "What was the use? I would have been glad of your assistance at the time; but when I found you I had already made a contract with Mrs. Atterson, and what was the use?" "Well, perhaps it would have made no difference.
Mother Atterson, her heart troubled by thought of "that Pepper-man," could not always repress her smiles. If the danger of losing the farm were past, she would have had nothing in the world to trouble her. The hundred eggs she had purchased for five dollars had proven more than sixty per cent fertile. Some advice that Hiram had given her enabled Mrs.
"I've got a little money saved up. I could sell the house in a week, for it's always full and there are always lone women like me with a little driblet of money to exchange for a boarding house heaven help us for the fools we are!" Mrs. Atterson exclaimed. "And I expect you could raise vegetables enough to part keep us, Hi, even if the farm wasn't a great success?"
"But a farm, Mrs. Atterson!" broke in Hiram. "Think what you can do with it!" "That's what I'd like to have, you, or somebody else tell me," exclaimed the old lady, tartly. "I ain't got no more use for a farm than a cat has for two tails!" "But but isn't it a good farm?" queried Hiram, puzzled. "How do I know?" snapped the boarding house mistress.
"But if the railroad board should change its mind again," added the lawyer, "sixteen hundred dollars would not be a speculative price to pay for your farm and well Pepper knows it." "Then Mr. Damocles's sword has got to hang over us, has it?" demanded the old lady. "I am afraid so," admitted the lawyer, smiling. Mrs. Atterson could not be more troubled than was Hiram himself.
There had been no time to rouse either the neighbors, or the rest of the family. If he did not overcome these flames and well he knew it Mother Atterson would arise in the morning to see all her goodly timber scorched, perhaps ruined!
And Sister learned a few things before she had raised "that raft of poults," as Mother Atterson called them. Turkeys are certainly calculated to breed patience especially if one expects to have a flock of young Toms and hens fit for killing at Thanksgiving-time.
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