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Joe Beach had been making poor headway in arithmetic. "I'll come over this evening, and we'll see what's the trouble. It's all very easy," the teacher said. He worked three hours with the young man that evening, and filled him with high ambition after hauling him out of his difficulty. But of all difficulties the teacher had to deal with, Polly Vaughn was the greatest.
"So I say," this from the other three, who were now quite serious. "He'd better not come back here," said the sister Lize. "He never will, probably." "Who employed the widow?" "Nobody knows," said the sister Serene. "Before she left town she had a check cashed, an' it come from Riley Brooke. Some think Martha Vaughn herself knows all about it. Sh-h-h! there goes Sidney Trove."
As I met him, I did not like the look in his eye; it was too stary. Dr. Vaughn was there, too, talking in a low tone to Madame Rapport. He shot a quick look at us. His were not eyes but gimlets that tried to bore into your very soul. Chatting with Seward Blair was a Mrs. Langhorne, a very beautiful woman. To-night she seemed to be unnaturally excited.
"That is Rapport," Vaughn whispered to me. The worshipers crowded forward. Without a word, he raised his long, lean forefinger and began to single them out impressively. As he did so, each spoke, as if imploring aid. He came to Mrs. Langhorne. "I have tried the charm," she cried earnestly, "and the one whom I love still hates me, while the one I hate loves me!"
"Mais non!" says the lady vamp, shruggin' her shoulders. "They are what you call simple, yes. But they are chic, too. One considers that. Las' week come a young lady from Atlanta who in one hour takes two dozen at once, and more next day. You see!" Peyton was beginning to see. But he wanted to be dead sure. "From Atlanta?" says he. "Not not a a Miss Vaughn?"
He remembered seeing this same Jase Vaughn, now riding unsuspectingly toward the loaded rifle, at a corn shucking once. Ralph then thought him a very jolly, amusing fellow. "Now lad now lad!" whispered the old man. "Get down and take your sight. I've seen ye shoot the heads offn squirrels. Just imagine that feller's head is a squirrel's. As for the child " "Grandpa, I will not shoot.
Polly Vaughn, editor of a paper to be read that evening, searched the countryside for literary talent. She found a young married woman, who had spent a year in the State Normal School, and who put her learning at the service of Polly, in a composition treating the subject of intemperance. Miss Betsey Leech sent in what she called "a piece" entitled "Home."
But I'm out here on the frontier now, caught somehow in its wildness, and I feel a relief, a gladness to know Vaughn Steele has the skill you claim. Thank you, Russ." She seemed about to dismiss me then, for she rose and half turned away. Then she hesitated. She had one hand at her breast, the other on the bench.
On the other side, "A few lines from W.L. Vaughn," who has just been writing for the wife to her husband, and continues on his own account. The postscript, "tell John that nancy's folks are all well and has a verry good Little Crop of corn a growing."
And so my commentary, New Year's Day, 1922, proceeds, using for points of more and more extensive departure the refrains and old catch-phrases of books two and three. William Vaughn Moody, and a more talked-of commercial film, The Miracle Man.
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