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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Hello, Phœbe," a cheery voice rang out, followed by a deeper exclamation, "Phœbe!" as she came to the last intersection of streets in the town and turned to enter the country road. She turned a sober little face to the speakers, David Eby and his cousin, Phares Eby. "Hello," she answered listlessly. "What's wrong?" asked the older boy as they joined her.
Its great barns and vast acres quite eclipsed the modest little dwelling beside it. David Eby sometimes sighed as he compared the two farms and wondered why Fate had bestowed upon his uncle's efforts an almost unparalleled success while his own father had had a continual struggle to hold on to the few acres of the little farm.
"Come now, Phœbe," David said, "just because you put your hair up you mustn't think you can rule us all and don grown-up airs." "Then you do notice things! I thought you were blind. You are downright mean, David Eby!
You just make me laugh all the time. But it's mean, now, that you are so dumb to forget and have to go back. I thought I'd have nice company all the ways in, but mebbe I'll see you in Greenwald." "Mebbe. Goo'bye," said the boy and turned to the hill again. Phœbe stood a moment and looked after him. "My," she said to herself, "but David Eby is a vonderful nice boy!"
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