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Howard shook hands with Nettie, a tall, plain girl with prominent teeth.

"This is Ma Mcllvaine. "

"She looks just the same," said. Howard, shaking her hand and feeling how hard and work-worn it was.

And so amid bustle, chatter, and invitations "to lay off y’r things an’ stay awhile," the women got disposed about the room at last Those that had rocking chairs rocked vigorously to and fro to hide their embarrassment. They all talked in loud voices.

Howard felt nervous under this furtive scrutiny. He wished his clothes didn’t look so confoundedly dressy. Why didn’t he have sense enough to go and buy a fifteen-dollar suit of diagonals for everyday wear.

Rose was the life of the party. Her tongue rattled on m the most delightful way.

"It’s all Rose an’ Bill’s doin’s," Mrs. Mcllvaine explained. "They told us to come over an’ pick up anybody we see on the road. So we did. "

Howard winced a little at her familiarity of tone. He couldn’t help it for the life of him.

"Well, I wanted to come tonight because I’m going away next week, and I wanted to see how he’d act at a surprise party again," Rose explained.

"Married, I s’pose," said Mrs. Mcllvaine abruptly.

"No, not yet. "

"Good land! Why, y’ Inns’ be thirty-five, now. Must a dis’p’inted y’r mam not to have a young ‘un to call ‘er granny. "

The men came clumping in, talking about haying and horses. Some of the older ones Howard knew and greeted, but the younger ones were mainly too much changed. They were all very ill at ease. Most of them were in compromise dress–something lying between working "rig" and Sunday dress. Most of them had on clean shirts and paper collars, and wore their Sunday coats (thick woolen garments) over rough trousers. All of them crossed their legs at once, and most of them sought the wall and leaned back perilously upon the hind legs of their chairs, eyeing Howard slowly.

For the first few minutes the presents were the subjects of conversation. The women especially spent a good deal of talk upon them.

Howard found himself forced to taking the initiative, so he inquired about the crops and about the farms.

"I see you don’t plow the hills as we used to. And reap’. What a job it ust to be. It makes the hills more beautiful to have them covered with smooth grass and cattle. "

There was only dead silence to this touching upon the idea of beauty.

"I s’pose it pays reasonably. "

"Not enough to kill," said one of the younger men. "You c’n see that by the houses we live in–that is, most of us. A few that came in early an’ got land cheap, like Mcllvaine, here–he got a lift that the rest of us can’t get. "

"I’m a free trader, myself," said one young fellow, blushing and looking away as Howard turned and said cheerily:

"So’m I. "

The rest semed to feel that this was a tabooed subject –a subject to be talked out of doors, where one could prance about and yell and do justice to it.

Grant sat silently in the kitchen doorway, not saying a word, not looking at his. brother.

"Well, I don’t never use hot vinegar for mine," Mrs. Mcllvaine was heard to say. "I jest use hot water, an’ I rinse ’em out good, and set ’em bottom-side up in the sun. I do’ know but what hot vinegar would be more cleansin’. "

Rose had the younger folks in a giggle with a droll telling of a joke on herself.

"How’d y’ stop ’em from laffin’?"

"I let ’em laugh. Oh, my school is a disgrace–so one director says. But I like to see children laugh. It broadens their cheeks. "