The Holly chieftain., 1919-04-03
By
IRVING BACHELLER
Copyright, by Irving Bachellcrl
CHAPTER xVlI-Continued.

~
My heart beat fast when I saw the
house and my uncle and Purvis coming
In from the twenty-acre lot with
load of hay. Aunt Deel stood on the
front steps looking down the road.
Now and then her waving handker-
chief went to her eyes. Uncle Pea
body came down the standard off his
load and walked toward me. e..
Say, stranger, have you seen any
thing of feller by the name O. Bart
Baynes?" he demanded.
"Have your" asked.
mo. sir, l amt. Gosh almighty!
Say what have We done with that boy
of our'n?
what have you done to our house"
asked again.
Built on an addition"
"That's what I've done to your boy"
answered.
Thunder an lightnin'! How you've
raised the roof" he exclaimed as he
grabbed my satchel. Dressed like
statesman an bigger'n bullmoose.
/ can't 'rastle with you no more. But.
say. I'll run We race. I can beat ye
an carry the satchel, too"
"Purvis. you drive that load on the
floor an put up the hosses," Uncle
Peabody shouted in a moment. If
you don't like 1t you can hire mother
man. l won't do no more till after
dinner. This slave business is played
out"
"All right" Purvis answered.
"You bet it's all right. I'm fer abo-
lition an I've stood your domineerin',
nigger-driver ways long enough fer
one mornin'. If you don't like it you
can look for another man."
Aunt Deei and 1 began to laugh at
this good-natured, make-believe scold-
ing Of Uncle Peabody and the emo
tional strain was over. They led me
into the house, where delightful sur
prise awaited me, for the rooms had
been decorated with balsam boughs
and sweet ferns. A glowing mass OF
violets, framed in moss, occupied the
center Of the table. The house was
filled with the odors of the forest,
which, as they knew. were dear to me.
l had written that they might expect
me some time before noon, but I
begged them not to meet me in Can
ton, as I wished to walk home after
my long ride. So they were ready for
me.
I remember how they felt the cloth
on my back and how proudly they sur
veyed it.
Couldn't buy them goods round
these parts" said Uncle Peabody.
"Nor nothin' like 'em-no, sir"
'Feels leetle bit like the butternut
trousers" said Aunt Deel as she felt
my coat.
"Ayes, but them butternut trousers
amt what they used to be when they
was young and limber," Uncle Peabody
remarked. "Seems so they was get
tin kind O. wrinkled an baldheaded-
like, specially where set down."
"Ayes! Wal l guess man can't
grow old without his pants growin'
old, too-ayes !" said Aunt Deel.
"If yer legs are in 'em ev'ry Sunday
they ketch it of ye," my uncle an
swered. Long sermons are hard on
pantS, seems TO Inc.
"An' the longer the legs the harder
the sermons-in them little seats over
t the schoolhouse-ayes !" Aunt Deel
added by way of justifying his COM
plant. "There wouldn't be- so much
wear in ten-mile walk-no!"
1--WE been wallerin' since the dew
was off gittin them berries an VII
lets-ayes! /" said Aunt Deel, now busy
with her work at the stove.
"Aunt, you look as young as ever" 1
remarked.
She slapped my arm and said with
mock severity:
stop that! wy! You know better
ayes !"
How vigorously she stirred the fire
then.
II can't return the complimentary
soul how you've changed-ayes !" she
remarked.
II hope you amt fit no more, Bart.
l can't bear to think O. you flyin' at
folks an poundin' Of 'em. Don't seem
right-no. it don't!"
"Why, Aunt Deel, what in the world
do you mean?" asked.
"Its Purvis' brain that does the
poundin', 1 guess" said my uncle.
ITS kind O. got the habit. It's a reg
lar beetle brain. To hear him talk
ye'd think he an you could clean out