Trove was three days in Brier Dale after he came out of the woods.
The filly was now a sleek and shapely animal, past three years of
age. He began at once breaking her to the saddle, and, that done,
mounting, he started for Robin's Inn. He carried a game rooster in
a sack for the boy Tom. All came out with a word of welcome; even
the small dog grew noisy with delight Tunk Hosely, who had come to
work for Mrs. Vaughn, took the mare and led her away, his shoulder
leaning with an added sense of horsemanship. Polly began to hurry
dinner, fussing with the table, and changing the position of every
dish, until it seemed as if she would never be quite satisfied.
Covered with the sacred old china and table-linen of her
grandmother, it had, when Polly was done with it, a very smart
appearance indeed. Then she called the boys and bade them wash
their hands and faces and whispered a warning to each, while her
mother announced that dinner was ready.
"Paul, what's an adjective?" said the teacher, as they sat down.
"A word applied to a noun to qualify or limit its meaning," the boy
answered glibly.
"Right! And what adjective would you apply to this table?"
The boy thought a moment.
"Grand!" said he, tentatively.
"Correct! I'm going to have just such a dinner every day on my
farm."
"Then you'll have to have Polly too," said Tom, innocently.
"Well, you can spare her."
"No, sir," the boy answered. "You ain't good to her; she cries
every time you go away."
There was an awkward silence and the widow began to laugh and Polly
and Trove to blush deeply.
"Maybe she whispered, an' he give her a talkin' to," said Paul.
"Have you heard about Ezra Tower?" said Mrs. Vaughn, shaking her
head at the boys and changing the topic with shrewd diplomacy.
"Much; but nothing new," said Trove.
"Well, he swears he'll never cross the Fadden bridge or speak to
anybody in Pleasant Valley."
"Why?"
"The taxes. He don't believe in improvements, and when he tried to
make a speech in town-meeting they all jeered him. There ain't any
one good enough for him to speak to now but himself an'--an' his
Creator."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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