The Ely miner., 1926-10-29
CHAPTER III-Continued

She forgot her aching back and led
the way into the house. Amos was
as excited and pleased as the children
and Lizzie, so tired that her old hands
shook, was as elated as the others.
ITS much more roomy than the old
house and all on one floor Twill save
me the stairs. And the gardenill be
fine she said, failing to call atten-
tfon to the fact that the water was far
from the house and that there was
no kitchen sink
"W've got to try to keep this place
cleaner than we did the other" said
Amos. Lydia, better wash up for
supper"
"Oh, daddy" said Lydia, I'm too
tiredI Don't make mep'
''All right" answered Amos, "but
your mother was always clean and so
am I. I don't see where you get It,"
Maybe one Of my ancestors was
garbage man." suggested Lydia, slid
fng into her place at the table.
She allowed Lizzie to carry Patience
into their bedroom after supper and
ming the garden for next year, waited
in vain to hear "Beulah Land and
"Wreathe me no gaudy chaplet' float
to him from the open window.
where's Lydia, Lizzie?" he asked
as the old lady came out to empty the
dishwater.
"She amt come out yet. Maybe
she's fell asleep, too."
The two tip-toed to the window.
On the bed under the covers was lit
tie Patience, fast asleep, and beside
her, on top of the covers, fully dressed,
lay Lydia, an arm across her little
sister, In the sleep of utter exhaus-
ton.
''Ill just take her shoes off and
cover her and leave her till morning"
said Lizzie.
But Amos, gazing at his two Ill
kempt little daughters, at the chaotic
room, did not answer except to MUIR
muir to himself, ooh, Patiencel Pa
tiencel"
The cottage was somewhat isolated.
Amos was three-quarters of mile
from his work. The schoolhouse was
a mile away and the nearest trolley.
which Lizzie must take to do the fam
lily shopping, was half a mile back
along the dirt road.
Nevertheless, all the family felt that
they had taken distinct step upward
In moving into lake shore property
and nobody complained of distances.
Amos began putting In his Sundays In
cleaning up the bramble-grown acres
he intended to turn into a garden In
the spring. He could not afford to
have it plowed so he spaded it all
himself, during the wonderful bright
fall Sabbaths. Nor was this a hard
ship for Amos. Only the farm bred
can realize the reminiscent JOY he
took In wrestling with the sod, which
gave up the smell that is more deeply
familiar to nan than any other in
the range of human experience.
A dairy farmer named Norton, up
the road, gave him manure In ex-
change for the promise of early veg
etables for his table. After his spad-
ing was done In late September, Amos,
with his wheelbarrow, followed by the
two children, began his trips between
the dairy farm and his garden patch
and he kept these up until the garden
was deep with fertilizer.
Lydia was happier than she had
been since her mothers death. She
took the long tramps to and from
school, lunch box and school bag slung
at her back, In sort of ecstasy. She
was inherently child of the woods
and fields. Their beauty thrilled her
while it tranquilized her. Some of the
weight Of worry and responsibility
that she had carried since her baby
sister of two weeks had been turned
over to her care left her.
John Levine came home with Amos
one night to supper. Amos felt safe
about an unexpected guest on Satur-
day nights for there was always a pot
of baked beans, at the baking of which
Lizzie was a master hand, and there
were always biscuits. Lydia was ex-
pert at making these. She had taken
of late to practicing with her moth
er's old cook book and Amos felt as II
he were getting a new lease of gas
tronomic life.