Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1918-06-13
CHAPTER VI.
(Continued.)

Some fourteen months before that
dav NV uncle had taken me to Pots
dam and traded grain and salts lot
what he called a rip roarin hne
suit o. clothes" with boots and cap
and shirt and collar and necktie to
match. l having earned them ny
saving an cording wood at three
shillings a cord. How often We
looked back to those better days!
The clothes had been too big LOT
me and l had had to wait until mt
growth had taken up the slack IN
nv coat and trousers before coulo
venture out of the neighborhood. l
had tried them on every week or so
for a long time. Now my stature
filled them handsomely and they
filled me with pride and satisfaction
which | had never known before.
The collar WIS too tight, so Aunt
Deel had to sew one end of It to the
neckband, but my tie covered the
sewing.
Since that dreadful day Of the
petticoat trousers my wonder had
been regarding all integumentS,
what Sally Dunkelberg would saw
to them. At last l could start for
Canton with a strong and capable
feeling. If l CHANGED 10 meet Sally
DunkeIberg 1 need not hide my
head for shame as 1 had done that
memorable Sunday.
"Now may the Lord help We to
be careful-awful, terrible careful
@ them clothes every minute O. this
day." Aunt Deel cautioned as she
looked at me. Don't git no horse
sweat nor wagon grease on 'em."
To Aunt Deel wagon grease was
the worst enemy of a happy and
respectable home.
We hitched our team to the
grasshopper spring wagon and set
out on our Journey. 1t was a warm,
hazy Indian-summer day in Novem-
Der. My uncle looked very stiff and
sober in his new" clothes. Such
breathIess excitement as that l felt
when We were riding down the hills
and could see the distant spires of
Canton, l have never known since
that day. AS we passed the mill"
we saw the Silent Woman looking
out of the little window of her room
above the Blacksmith shop-a low,
eather-stained, frame building,
hard by the main road, with a mar
row hanging stair on the side of it.
She keeps watch by the winder
when she amt travelin'. said IN
Gle Peabody. Knows all that's go
in on-that wOman-knOWs who
goes to the village an how long
they stay. When Grimshaw goes
by they say she hustles off down
the road in her rags. She looks
like a sick dog herself, but I've
heard that she keeps that room o
hers just as neat as pin"
Near the village we passed 4
smart-looking buggy drawn by a
spry-footed horse in shiny harness.
Then l noticed with a pang that
cur wagon was covered with dry
mud and that our horses were rath-
er bony and our harness kind Of
lead color. So I was in an humble
state of mind when we entered the
village. Uncle Peabody had mad
little to say and I had kept still
knowing that he sat in the shadow
of great problem.
There was a crowd of men and
women in front of Mr.. Wright'3
office and through its open door
saw many of his fellow townsmen.
We waited at the door for a few
minutes. I crowded in while Uncle
Peabody stood talking with a vii
lager. The senator caught sight of
me and came to my side and put
his hand on my head and said:
Hello, Bart, How you've grown,
and how handsome you look
Where's your uncle?"
He's there by the door," 1 an
swered
We'll, les go and see him"
Then 1 followed him out of the
office.
Mr.. Wright was stouter and gray
er and grander than when I had
seen him last. He. was dressed in
black broadcloth and wore a big
beaver hat and high collar and his
hair was almost white. remember