"Yes, that's all right. Start the potatoes once, Martin. Now you must

eat, Amanda. Just make yourself right at home."

"Martin, you must eat hearty, too,", said the father. "Your mom made

this supper for you."

"For me? What's the idea? Feeding the prodigal? Fatted calf and all

that, Mother?" the boy asked, smiling, "Calf--nothing!" exclaimed little Charlie. "It's them two roosters Mom

said long a'ready she's goin' to kill once and cook and here they are!"

Charlie wondered why everybody laughed at that but he soon forgot about

it as his mother handed him a plate piled high with food.

Amanda scarcely knew what she was eating that day. Each mouthful had

the taste of nectar and ambrosia to her. If she could _belong_ to

a family like that! She adored her own people and felt certain that no

one could wish for a finer family than the one in which she had been

placed, but it seemed, by comparison with the Landis one, a very small,

quiet family. She wished she could be a part of both, make the twelfth

in that charming circle in which she sat that day.

After supper Mrs. Landis turned to Amanda--"Now you stay a while and

hear our new pieces on the Victrola."

"I'll help you with the dishes," she offered.

"Ach, no, it ain't necessary. Mary and I will get them done up in no

time. You just go in the room and enjoy yourself."

With little Katie leading the way and Martin following Amanda went to

the sitting-room and sat down while Martin opened the Victrola.

"What do you like?" he asked. "Something lively? Or do you like soft

music better?"

"I like both. What are your new pieces?"

"McCormack singing 'Mother Machree---'"

"Oh, I like that! Play that!"

As the soft, haunting melody of "Mother Machree" sounded in the room

Mrs. Landis came to the door of the sitting-room, dish towel in hand.

"Ach," she said after the last verse, "I got that record most wore out

a'ready. Ain't it the prettiest song? When I hear that I think still

that if only one of my nine children feels that way about me I'm more

than paid for any bother I had with them."

"Then, Mother," said Martin, "you should feel more than nine times

paid, for we all feel that way about you."

"Listen, now!" The mother's eyes were misty as she looked at her first-

born. "Ach, play it again. I only hope poor Becky knows how much good

her money's doin' us!"

Later Martin walked with Amanda up the moonlit road to her home. "I've

had a lovely time, Martin," she told him. "You do have the nicest,

lively family! I wish we had a tableful like that!"




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