"Wa-al," said her aunt, yawning and lowering herself upon the kitchen couch, the springs of which squeaked complainingly under her weight, "Wa-al, 'tain't scurcely wuth doin' the dishes _now_. Jason'll stop and gab 'ith some one. It takes him ferever an' a day ter git a pail o' water. You go on about your play, Niece Janice. I'll git 'em done erlone somehow, by-me-by." Mrs. Day closed her eyes while she was still speaking. She was evidently glad to relax into her old custom again. Janice took down her aunt's sunbonnet from the nail by the side door and went out. Amusement had given place in the girl's mind to something like actual shrinking from these relatives and their ways. The porch boards gave under even her weight. Some of them were broken. The steps were decrepit, too. The pump handle was tied down, she found, when she put a tentative hand upon it. "'It jest rattles,'" quoted Janice; but no laugh followed the sigh which was likewise her involuntary comment upon the situation. CHAPTER IV FIRST IMPRESSIONS There was a long, well-shaded yard behind the house, bordered on the upper hand by the palings of the garden fence. Had this fence not been so overgrown by vines, wandering hens could have gone in and out of the garden at pleasure. Robins were whisking in and out of the tops of the trees, quarreling over the first of the cherry crop. Janice heard Marty's hoe and she opened the garden gate. About half of this good-sized patch was given over to the "'tater" crop; the remainder of the garden seemed--to the casual glance--merely a wilderness of weeds. There may have been rows of vegetable seeds planted there in the beginning; but now it was a perfect mat of green things that have no commercial value--to say the least. Marty was about halfway down the first row of potatoes. He was cleaning the row pretty well, and the weeds were wilting in the sun; but the rows were as crooked as a snake's path. "Hullo!" said the boy, willing to stop and lean on the hoe handle. "Don't you want to help?" "I don't believe I could hoe, Marty," said Janice, doubtfully. "If you'd been a boy cousin, I wouldn't have minded," grunted Marty. "He and me could have had some fun." "Don't you think _I_ can be any fun?" demanded Janice, rather amused by the frankness of the youth. "Never saw a gal that was," responded Marty. "Always in the way. Marm says I got to be perlite to 'em----" "And is that such a cross?" "Don't know anything about no cross," growled Marty; "but a boy cousin that I could lick would ha' been a whole lot more to my mind." "Oh, Marty! we're not going to quarrel." "I dunno whether we are or not," returned the pessimistic youth. "Wait till there's only one piece o' pie left at dinner some day. You'll have ter have it. Marm'll say so. But if you was a boy--an' I could lick ye--ye wouldn't dare take it. D'ye see?"