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Updated: June 23, 2025
I never can keep track of them. They keep againin' on me all the time." "Yes," said Mrs. Gwynne. "It is hard to realise that they are growing up and will soon be away from us." "That's so," said Mr. Sleighter. "And the schools," continued Mrs. Gwynne, "are there good schools?" "Schools?" exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "There's a real good school not more than a couple of miles away."
Perhaps I should have said that a certain kind of voice always goes with a beautiful soul." "I know," replied his daughter. "That's like Mrs. Gwynne's voice. And so we'll go down to the car and bring Larry home with us, and perhaps his mother will let him come here. She did not say she would and you can't tell. She's quiet, you know, but somehow she isn't like Mrs. Sleighter.
The snap in the cold grey eye, the firm lines in the long jaw, the thin lips pressed hard together, all proclaimed the hard-headed, cold-hearted, iron-willed man of business. Mr. Sleighter, moreover, had a remarkable instinct for values, more especially for salvage values.
It followed that the scouting party included not only Miss Hazel Sleighter, but also her big brother Tom, who, being temporarily in the high school, more perhaps because of his size and the maturity of his bearing than by virtue of his educational qualifications, was at the present moment most chiefly concerned in getting into form his baseball team for the match the following Saturday in which the High School was to meet All Comers under eighteen.
I guess I got pretty full, and when you pulled the cork, out she come." During the tea hour Mrs. Gwynne tried to draw her visitor out to talk about his family, but here she failed. Indeed a restraint appeared to fall upon him that nothing could dispel. Immediately after tea Mrs. Sleighter. We shall be glad to have you join us." "Sure thing, ma'am," said Mr.
"I hope you will be able to stay," continued Mrs. Gwynne. Mr. Sleighter glanced at her husband. "Why, certainly," said Mr. Gwynne, "we would be glad to have you." Still Mr. Sleighter hesitated. "Say, I don't know what's come over me. I feel as if I had been on the stump," he said in an embarrassed voice. "I ain't talked to a soul about that country since I left.
But all the same I guess the advantage is to me all right." Mr. Sleighter looked hard down the street, then turned and faced her squarely. "I want to say that it's done me a pile of good to have seen you, ma'am. It's made things look different." "You are a good man, Mr. Sleighter," she said, looking at him with misty eyes. "A good man!" Mr. Sleighter was seized with a cough. "A good man!
"Oh, I say, Gwynne, let's get out, let's get over to the store. It's kind of hot here, and I've got to go. Come on over and we'll clean up." Without a farewell word to either of them Mr. Sleighter passed rapidly from the room. "I do hope there's nothing wrong, Michael," said his wife. "I fear I have made a mistake. I spoke to Mr. Sleighter about the possibility of getting a small farm in the West.
Sleighter was fairly started on his subject and was not to be denied. The little girls drew shyly near him with eyes aglow while Mr. Sleighter's words roiled forth like a mountain flood. Eloquently he described the beauty of the rolling lands, the splendour of the mountains, the richness of the soil, the health-giving qualities of the climate, the warm-hearted hospitality of the settlers.
Sleighter, I want to ask your advice. You see, my husband is determined to leave this place. He wishes to try something else. Indeed, he must try something else. We must make a living, Mr. Sleighter." Mrs. Gwynne's voice became hurried and anxious. "We were delighted last night by your description of that wonderful country in the West, and the children especially.
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