Take my advice and have a place to yourself, even if
it's a small one. A shop or a barn has saved many a man's life
and reason Cephas, for it's ag'in' a woman's nature to have you
underfoot in the house without hectorin' you. Choose a girl
same's you would a horse that you want to hitch up into a span;
't ain't every two that'll stan' together without kickin'. When
you get the right girl, keep out of her way consid'able an'
there'll be less wear an' tear."
It was June and the countryside was so beautiful it seemed as if
no one could be unhappy, however great the cause. That was what
Waitstill Baxter thought as she sat down on the millstone step
for a word with the old joiner, her best and most understanding
friend in all the village.
"I've come to do my mending here with you," she said brightly, as
she took out her well-filled basket and threaded her needle.
"Isn't it a wonderful morning? Nobody could look the world in the
face and do a wrong thing on such a day, could they, Uncle Bart?"
The meadows were a waving mass of golden buttercups; the shallow
water at the river's edge just below the shop was blue with
spikes of arrow- weed; a bunch of fragrant water-lilies, gathered
from the mill-pond's upper levels, lay beside Waitstill's
mending-basket, and every foot of roadside and field within sight
was swaying with long-stemmed white and gold daisies.
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