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One of the Eby family should go. I'll be glad to keep up your farm and help look after your mother while you are gone. The most I can do here will be less than you are going to do, but I'll raise the best crops I can and help in the food end of it." "You'll do your part here, Phares, and it will count. You're a bona-fide farmer. You'll have our little place a record farm when I get back.
Eby, the resident manager, convinced him otherwise. "Can't quite see your quotations, Gregory," that gentleman had crisply maintained. "We have been offered a similar line of goods at fully ten per cent. less." Gregory was greatly surprised.
He took one of the long light curls and pulled it gently, yet with a brusque show of savagery and strength "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, and one to make you grow. Now who says I can't celebrate your birthday!" "You're mean, awful mean, David Eby!" She tossed her head in anger. But a moment later she relented as she saw him smile.
"No, it ain't me, it's my shadow!" came the answer as a boy, several years older than Phœbe, turned and waited for her. "Ach, David Eby," she giggled, "you're just like Aunt Maria says still you are always cuttin' up and talkin' so abody don't know if you mean it or what. Goin' in to town, too, once?" "Um-uh. Say, Phœbe, you want a rose to pin on?" he asked, turning to her with a pink damask rose.
From three roads came other children, most of them carrying baskets or kettles filled with the noon lunch. All were eager for the opening of school, anxious to "see the new teacher once." From the farm nearest the schoolhouse Phares Eby had come for his last year in the rural school. From the little cottage on the adjoining farm David Eby came whistling down the road.
Any person with good sight and ordinary sense can tell whether their appearance is pleasing or otherwise. I like this dress " "Phœbe," Aunt Maria's voice came up the stairs. "Yes?" "Why, David's down. Are you done dressing?" "I'll be down in a minute." David Eby, too, was a man grown, but a man so different! Like his cousin, Phares, he was tall.
"I want to ask you what the operation is going to cost, hospital charges and all," she said frankly. "At least five hundred dollars." Phœbe's year in the city had taught her many things. She showed no surprise at the amount named. "That will be satisfactory, Dr. Munster. But I want to ask you, please don't tell Moth Mrs. Eby anything about it. I it's to be paid by a friend. I know Mrs.
"I don't care," she retorted quickly, "I don't care if my eyes was purple!" "But you should care," persisted the boy gravely. "I don't like you so angry." "Ach," she flashed an indignant look at him "Phares Eby, you're by far too bossy! I like David best; he don't boss me all the time like you do!" David laughed but Phares appeared hurt. Phœbe was quick to note it.
From the densest portions of the woods above the quarry a thrush sang all nature seemed atune with Phœbe's mood, blithe, happy, joyous! Phares Eby, going to town that morning, walked slowly as he neared the Metz farm and looked for a glimpse of Phœbe. He saw, instead, the portly figure of Aunt Maria as she walked about her garden to see the progress of her early June peas.
The names impressed David if those fifteen put their money into it he might as well be the sixteenth. In a little while David Eby walked home with a paper representing the ownership of a number of shares of a certain gold mine in Nevada, while Caleb Warner patted musingly a check for five hundred dollars. Mother Bab wondered at her boy's philosophical acceptance of his crop failure.
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