A Daughter of the Land

"Adam, you're a dandy!" cried Kate.

"I am having a whole buggy load of fun, and you ought to go," said

he. "It's all right! Don't you worry! I'll take care of you."

"Why, thank you, Adam!" said Kate. "That is the first time any

one ever offered to take care of me in my life. With me it always

has been pretty much of a 'go-it-alone' proposition."

"What of Nancy Ellen's did you take?" he asked. "Why didn't you

get some gloves? Your hands are so red and work-worn. Mother's

never look that way."

"Your mother never has done the rough field work I do, and I

haven't taken time to be careful. They do look badly. I wish I

had taken a pair of the lady's gloves; but I doubt if she would

have survived that. I understand that one of the unpardonable

sins is putting on gloves belonging to any one else."

Then the train came and Kate climbed aboard with Adam's parting

injunction in her ears: "Sit beside an open window on this side!"

So she looked for and found the window and as she seated herself

she saw Adam on the outside and leaned to speak to him again.

Just as the train started he thrust his hand inside, dropped his

dollar on her lap, and in a tense whisper commanded her: "Get

yourself some gloves!" Then he ran.

Kate picked up the dollar, while her eyes dimmed with tears.

"Why, the fine youngster!" she said. "The Jim-dandy fine

youngster!"

Adam could not remember when he ever had been so happy as he was

driving home. He found his mother singing, his father in a genial

mood, so he concluded that the greatest thing in the world to make

a whole family happy was to do something kind for someone else.

But he reflected that there would be far from a happy family at

his grandfather's; and he was right. Grandmother Bates came in

from her hoeing at eleven o'clock tired and hungry, expecting to

find the wash dry and dinner almost ready. There was no wash and

no odour of food. She went to the wood-shed and stared

unbelievingly at the cold stove, the tubs of soaking clothes.

She turned and went into the kitchen, where she saw no signs of

Kate or of dinner, then she lifted up her voice and shouted:

"Nancy Ellen!"

Nancy Ellen came in a hurry. "Why, Mother, what is the matter?"

she cried.

"Matter, yourself!" exclaimed Mrs. Bates. "Look in the wash room!

Why aren't the clothes on the line? Where is that good-for-

nothing Kate?"

Nancy Ellen went to the wash room and looked. She came back pale

and amazed. "Maybe she is sick," she ventured. "She never has

been; but she might be! Maybe she has lain down."