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Updated: June 3, 2025
Then the crystal water, shooting the old black mill-wheel, fell off it like the beard from Duff Salter's face, and went away in pools and flakes across a meadow, under spontaneous willow trees which liked to stand in moisture and cover with their roots the harmless water-snakes. A few cottages peeped over the adjacent ridges upon the hidden dale. "What a restful place!" exclaimed Podge Byerly.
Salter's forbears were Yorkshire folk thrifty, self-respecting, stiff-backed Nonconformists. His father and grandfather belonged to what is called "the old school," when parents ruled their families with an iron rod, and the meek, down-trodden children accepted punishment without question.
Not a boy in the school missed seeing how Boddy's flat head perpetually had a side-eye on him. All this came to an end. John Salter's father lived on the other side of the downs, and invited three of us to spend a day at his house. The selection included Heriot, Saddlebank, and me. Mr. Rippenger, not liking to refuse Mr. Salter, consented to our going, but pretended that I was too young.
Even in the middle of the family I led the conversation; and I did not leave Salter's house without receiving an assurance from his elder sisters that they were in love with me.
Then Bos'n said: "Uncle Cyrus, don't you like teacher?" "Hey? LIKE her? Well, if that ain't a question? Yes, I like her about as well as Lonesome likes Eben Salter's dog." "I'm sorry. I like her ever so much." "You DO? Go 'long! After the way she treated you, poor little thing!" "She didn't treat me any worse than she does the other girls and boys when they're naughty.
The plains glistened, and across them, through the pure air, came the voice of Master Salter's chanticleer from the distant farm. It was such a contrast to the scene within that Master Swift burst into tears. But even as he wept the sun leaped to the horizon, and, reflected from every dewdrop, and from the very tears upon the old man's cheeks, flooded the world about him with its inimitable glory.
"That is a very pretty girl with flowers in her hair, beside her," remarked Sophy; "look, she is nodding to you. Who is she?" "Her name is Ma Chit; she is Mrs. Salter's cousin. Sometimes she drops in when I am there; the Salters live close to my chummery. I have a munshi now and I am learning Burmese." "And and I am learning German!" "How do you hit it off with your uncle?"
"Now, John Salters," exclaimed Aunt Linda, "ain't you 'shamed ob yourself? Allers tryin' to poke fun at yer pore wife. Never mine; wait till I'se gone, an' you'll miss me." "Ef I war single," said Salters, "I could git a putty young gal, but it wouldn't be so easy wid you." "Why not?" said Iola, smiling. "'Cause young men don't want ole hens, an' ole men want young pullets," was Salter's reply.
To comment on Master Salter's qualifications for the post of sanitary inspector would be to insult the reader's understanding.
Come back, O Love! and freshen me, and, like a rill, flow down my closing years!" Duff Salter's shoulder was touched as he ceased to speak, and he found young Calvin Van de Lear behind him. "I have followed you out to the country," said the young man, howling in the elder's ear, "because I wanted to talk to you aloud, as I couldn't do in Kensington."
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