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Updated: June 4, 2025
The Bucks' farm was a triangle, bounded on two sides by converging roads and the other by the pasture lands of Buck Hill. The trolley line skirted the back of the farm, but turned sharply toward Ryeville before reaching the corner where the two roads met. The track curved about five hundred feet beyond the location of the stop where Judith had promised to meet the car with the suppers.
Oh, oh, oh, if I only had a new dress!" There was a general invitation for Buck Hill, family and visitors, and an especial one for Miss Ann Peyton, to whom the old men of Ryeville wished to show marked respect as being of their generation. "Of course, we shall all go," announced Mr. Bucknor. "It sounds rather common," objected Mildred. "And only look at the invitations!
If anything was going on all they had to do was move their chairs from the side porch to the front, whether it was a circus parade or a funeral, or just Miss Ann Peyton's rickety coach bearing her to Buck Hill, which was the first large farm the other side of the creek, the dividing line between Ryeville and the country. There were several small places but Buck Hill the only one of importance.
Harbison, I appreciate very much your kindness in wishing to help me with this basket of dishes, which is not at all heavy, but I think you had much better go directly to your friends at Buck Hill. That path to the left will take you through the gap and over the meadow. I go to the right." "Ah, but I am not going to Buck Hill this evening. I came back to Ryeville only to see you.
Miss Ann Peyton openly claiming relationship with old Dick Buck's granddaughter and riding around minus wig and hoops with the new-found cousin in a home-made blue car! Miss Ann was meek but happy. "Well, I swan!" exclaimed Pete Barnes. "What do you suppose he meant by saying they thought you were lost?" Judith asked on the way home from Ryeville. "Didn't they know you were coming to me?"
"I can't remember ever having seen her around here before, but then the girls have all grown beyond me since I left home. She has what some people call auburn hair, but I like to call it red, although it had lots of gold in it. She got on the last stop before you get into Ryeville. Seemed to know everybody on the car even the motorman and conductor.
The Ryeville Courier reported that the county was "agog" over the ball to be given by the veterans of the Rye House porch.
She devoutly hoped nobody had noticed it, but there was no time for repinings because one was stand-offish. Too many persons must be introduced to the debutante. Even had Mildred Bucknor been inclined to chat with her former schoolmate she would not have been allowed to do it. There were others who pressed forward to greet the fairy godchild of the old men of Ryeville.
He also decided to try a hazard of new fortunes in Louisville rather than Ryeville as his family had planned. Jeff was glad that the house party was breaking up. Perhaps now Buck Hill would settle down into peace and quiet and he would have a chance to discuss his affairs with his father and mother.
Ryeville had rather prided itself on having the same population about three thousand for the last fifty years. That is the oldest inhabitants had, but the newer generation was for expansion in spite of tradition, and Ryeville awoke one morning, after the census taker had been busying himself, to find itself five thousand strong and still growing.
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