His hearers laughed, for his words were accentuated by the old-time grin that had pleased Obadiah Strout on some occasions, but on others had raised his ire to an explosive point. “Are father and mother at home?” asked Huldah. “Yes, both on 'em. Susie Barker's been helpin' her to-day, and the Dekin's wife thinks o' keepin' her reg'lar.” “I'll have them come to supper,” said Huldah. “Abner, hitch up the black mare into the low phaeton and bring them up here. Don't tell them who's here, but tell them that I say they must come.” “Well, I declare!” All looked up and saw Ezekiel standing in the doorway. He wore overalls and thick boots, his sleeves were rolled up, showing his brawny arms with muscles like whip-cords. His face was brown, but his beard was neatly trimmed, and his eyes bright. He was a picture of robust, healthy manhood, and showed what he was,--a hard-working, independent New England farmer. Alice sprang into his arms and received a resounding smack. One hand grasped Quincy's while the other encircled his dainty wife's waist, and he drew her towards him. “You have a fine farm,” said Quincy. “About as good as they make them,” 'Zeke replied. “I've a good market for all I can raise. Strout and Maxwell buy a great deal of garden truck, and I sell considerable to Mrs. Hawkins direct. What I have left we eat or give away.” Alice had taken young Quincy on her lap. He became communicative. “I've got a grandpa and grandma and Uncle Abner.” “Abner isn't your uncle,” said Alice. “I'm your Aunt Alice, and that is your Uncle Quincy.” Ezekiel laughed. “You can't convince him but that Abner's his uncle. Abner comes after him every afternoon and takes him down to the Deacon's house and that gives Huldy a good chance to do my mending.” The sound of carriage wheels indicated new arrivals, and Huldah went to the door to meet her father and mother. “Have you got callers?” asked Mrs. Mason. “I don't think I'll go in. I didn't dress up, but came just as I was.” “And I never saw you looking better,” said Quincy, stepping into the entry to meet them. “I'm glad to see you again, Mr. Sawyer,” and the Deacon's grasp was a firm one. “I didn't get up to the Town Hall that night, for I didn't feel first-rate and Sophia didn't want to go alone, but Abner told me what you did and said, and I reckon added a little on his own account.” Abner appeared in the doorway. “I've put up the mare, Mr. Pettingill. Want me for anything more, Dekin?” “You can go home and help Susie,” said Mrs. Mason. When Abner had gone, the Deacon chuckled and said, “Nothing could please Abner better than to take supper with Susie and pass the evening in her company. He's more'n forty and she's only twenty, but such hitch-ups ain't uncommon nowadays.” “That is what they call a December and May marriage,” remarked Alice. “Not quite as bad as that,” said the Deacon. “I should say about October and March.”