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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Now, Maria," interposed the father, "let her laugh; she'll meet with crying soon enough, I guess." But the woman could not be easily silenced. "Some day, Phœbe, you'll wish you'd been nicer to Phares." "Why, I am nice to him." "Well, anyhow, I think it's soon time you give up the world and its vanities," said Aunt Maria. The girl's teasing mood fled.
I'm not taking any chances with my eyes. I'm too glad to be able to see at all. The letter came this morning and Phares read it for me, but I want to hear it again. Will you read it, Phœbe? Did David write to you this week yet?" "No." The girl felt the color surging to her cheeks. "He doesn't write to me very often. He knows I read your letters." "Ach, yes. I guess he's busy, too.
She smiled, pleased by his interest and eagerness. "But just as I was happiest along came Phares and told me it was wicked to go. It's all a mistake to go, he said." "Ach, the dickens with the old fossil!" David cried. "And I'm not going to take that back or be sorry for saying it. Hadn't he better sense than to throw a wet blanket on all your happiness!" "Perhaps I needed it.
You're a brick, Phares!" For the first time in months he felt a genuine affection for his preacher cousin. Preaching, prosaic Phares, how kind he was! Lancaster County measured up to its fair standard in those first trying days of recruit gathering. The sons of the nation answered when she called.
It was a perfect September day when she left the gray farmhouse, drove in the country road and stood with her father, Aunt Maria, Mother Bab, David and Phares at the railroad station in Greenwald and waited for the noon train to Philadelphia.
You can't make me believe that you are pure, unadulterated Pennsylvania Dutch. There's some alien blood in you, by the ways of you. Have you seen Phares this afternoon?" he asked irrelevantly. "Phares? No. Why?" "He went down past the field some time ago. Said he's going to Greenwald and means to stop and ask you to go to a sale with him next week.
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.
When I am through studying music I'll think about being married." The preacher shook his head; his heart was too heavy for more words, more futile words. "Let us go, Phares," she said, the silence becoming intolerable. "Yes," he agreed. "And Phœbe," he added as they turned away from the quarry, "I hope you'll learn your lesson quickly and come back to us."
Will men never learn that girls who are worth getting are not looking so much for money but the man. The young can't see the depth and fullness of love. I've tried to teach David, but I suppose there's some things he must learn for himself." A WEEK later Phares and Phœbe drove into the barnyard of a farm six miles from Greenwald, where the old-fashioned sale was scheduled to be held.
"We must go now. There's a train at eight-twenty-one gets to Lancaster at ten-forty-five and we'll get the last car out to Greenwald and Phares will meet us and drive us home." I asked about the home folks as I watched David adjust Mother Bab's shawl. He looked older and worried. I suppose he was disappointed because the Big Doctor didn't promise a quick cure for Mother Bab's eyes.
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