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So long." As I came down the bank steps Sim Eldredge called across the road. "Good-by, Ros," he shouted. "Come in again next time you're up street." In all my period of residence in Denboro I had never before been treated like this. People had never before gone out of their way to shake hands with me. No one had considered it worth while to ask favors of me.
A pause. Then: "Emeline, there's no use your tellin' me what ain't so. I know more than you think I do, maybe. If you was drivin' home why did you take the Denboro road?" "The Denboro road? Why, we only went on that a ways. Then we turned off on what we thought was the road to the Lights.
The path from our house the latter every Denboro native spoke of as the "Paine Place" wound along the edge of the bluff for perhaps three hundred yards, then turned sharply through the grove of scrub oaks and pitch pines and emerged on the Shore Lane. The Shore Lane was not a public road, in the strictest sense of the term.
There, Don! you have had enough and you are splashing us dreadfully. Come back!" She backed the horse out of the water and turned his head toward the woods. "It is great fun to be lost," she observed. "I didn't suppose any one could be lost in Denboro." "But this isn't Denboro. Seabury's Pond is in Bayport township." "Is it, really? In Bayport? Then I must be a long way from home."
She could not bear to think of another birthday, now that he had been taken from her. Her guardian pulled his beard. "Well," he observed ruefully, "then my weak head's put my foot in it again, as the feller said. If I ain't careful I'll be like poor cracked Philander Baker, who lives with his sister over at Denboro Centre.
"'Loveland, yells Jonadab, out of the port corner of his mouth, 'if I ain't showin' you my tailboard by the time we pass the fust house in Denboro, I'll eat my Sunday hat. "I cal'late he would 'a' beat, too. We was drawin' ahead all the time and had a three-quarter length lead when we swung clear of the woods and sighted Denboro village, quarter of a mile away.
They let the old man do the worryin'. That's philosophy, anyhow. What are they so interested in outside? Parade goin' by?" "No. I imagine an unusually pretty girl passed just then." "Is that so? Well, well! Say, Mr. Sylvester, the longer I stay in New York the more I see that the main difference between it and South Denboro is size.
Others, like George Taylor and Doctor Quimby, were neither obsequious nor cold, merely bowing pleasantly and saying, "Good evening," as though greeting acquaintances and equals. Yes, there WERE good people in Denboro, quiet, unassuming, self-respecting citizens. One of them came up to me and spoke. "Hello, Ros," said Captain Elisha Warren, "Sim's havin' the time of his life, isn't he?"
"You are willing that I should try the experiment?" "I am glad, if it pleases you. And you must let me say this now, Roscoe, because it is true and I mean it. If another and better opportunity comes to you, one that might take you away from Denboro and from me for a time, of course, I want you to promise me that you will not refuse it on my account. Will you promise?" "No.
At first I looked upon my stay in Denboro as a sort of enforced vacation, which was to be, of course, only temporary. But time went on and Mother's condition continued unchanged. She needed me and I could not leave her.
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