"I'd love to go and get acquainted with the girls," the guest said, brightly. "Wouldn't you go with me some afternoon and introduce me to the teacher, Marty?" "_Me_? Ter 'Rill Scattergood? Naw!" declared the amazed Marty. "I sh'd say not!" "Why, Marty!" exclaimed his mother. "That ain't perlite." "Who said 'twas?" returned her hopeful son, shortly. "I ain't tryin' ter be perlite ter no _girl_. And I ain't goin' ter 'Rill Scattergood's school--never, no more!" "Young man," commanded his father, angrily, "you hold that tongue o' yourn. And you be perlite to your cousin, or I'll dance the dust out o' your jacket with a hick'ry sprout, big as ye be." Janice hastened to change the subject and tune the conversation to a more pleasant key. "It is so pretty all over this hillside," she said. "Around Greensboro the country is flat. I think the hills are much more beautiful. And the lake is just _dear_." "Ya-as," sighed her aunt. "Artis' folks come here an' paint this lake. I reckon it's purty; but ye sort er git used ter it after a while." It was evidently hard for Aunt 'Mira to enthuse over anything. Marty volunteered: "We got a waterfall on our place. Folks call it the Shower Bath. Guess a girl would think 'twas pretty." "Oh! I'd love to see that," declared Janice, quickly. "I'll show it to you after dinner," said Marty, of a sudden surprisingly friendly. "You'll hoe them 'taters after dinner," cried his father, sharply. "That's what _you'll_ do." "Huh!" growled the sullen youth. "Yer said I was to be perlite, an' when I start in ter be, you spring them old pertaters on a feller. Huh!" "Aw, now, Jason," interposed his mother. "Can't Marty show his cousin over the farm and hoe the 'taters afterward?" "No, he can't!" denied Master Marty, quickly. "I ain't goin' ter work double for nobody. Now, that's flat!" "Oh, we can go to the Shower Bath some other time," suggested Janice, apprehensive of starting another family squabble. "I don't know as I'd be able to hoe potatoes; but maybe there are other things I can do in the garden. I always had a big flower garden at home." "Huh!" grunted Marty. "Flowers are only a nuisance." "I s'pose you could weed some," sighed Aunt 'Mira. "It hurts me so to stoop." "She'd better pick 'tater bugs," said Marty, grinning. "They've begun to come, I reckon. Hard-shells, anyway." Janice could not resist shivering at this suggestion. She did not love insects any better than do most girls. But she took Marty's suggestion in good part. "You wait," she said. "Maybe I can do that, too. I'll weed a little, anyway. Have you a large farm, Uncle Jason?" "It's big enough, Janice," grumbled Jason. "Does seem as though--most years--it's too big for us to manage. If Marty, here, warn't so triflin'----" "I don't see no medals on _you_ for workin' hard," whispered the boy, loud enough for Janice to hear.