"He's the same cheerful David," thought the girl, "and we'll have to keep cheerful about it, too." But it was no easy matter to continue steadfast in cheerfulness during the long days of the summer. Phœbe and Mother Bab shared the anxiety of many others as the news came that the armies of the enemy were pushing nearer to Paris, nearer, and nearer, with the Americans and their allies fighting like demons and contesting every inch of the ground. A fear rose in Phœbe--what if the Germans should reach Paris, what if they should win the war! "But it can't be!" she thought. Her confidence was not unwarranted. Soon came the turn of the tide and the German drive was checked. One July day shrieking whistles, frenzied ringing of bells, impromptu parades and waving flags, spread the news that "America's contemptible little army" was helping to push the Germans back, back! "It's the beginning of the end for the Germans," said Phœbe jubilantly as she ran to Mother Bab with the news. "If they once start running they'll sprint pretty lively. We'll have to tell David about the excitement in town when the whistles blew--but, ach, I forgot! He won't think that was much excitement after he's been in _real_ excitement." Mother Bab laughed with the girl. "But we'll have lots to tell him when he comes back," she said. "And won't he be glad I can see!" CHAPTER XXXVI DAVID'S RETURN IT was October of 1918 when David Eby alighted from the train at Greenwald and started out the country road to his home. He could not resist the temptation to run into the yard of the gray farmhouse and into the kitchen where Aunt Maria and Phœbe were working. "David!" "Why, David!" The cries came gladly from the two women as he bounded over the sill and extended his hand, first to the older woman, then to Phœbe. "I just had to stop in here for a minute! Then I must run up the hill to mother. This place looks too good to pass by. How are you? You're both looking fine." "Ach, we're well," Aunt Maria had to answer, Phœbe remaining speechless. "But why, David! You got two legs and no crutches! I thought you lost a leg." "I did," he said, smiling, "but Uncle Sam gave me another one." "Why, abody'd hardly know it. Ain't, Phœbe, he just limps a little? Now I bet your mom'll be glad to see you--to have you back again, I mean." "Yes. I can't wait to get up the hill. I must go now. I'll be down later, Phœbe," he added. "All right," she said quietly. "Ach, Phœbe," Aunt Maria exclaimed after he left, "did you hear me? I almost give it away that his mom can see. Abody can be awful dumb still! But won't he be glad when he knows that she ain't blind! She can see him again. Ach, Phœbe, it's lots of nice people in the world, for all. It makes abody feel good to know them two are havin' a happy time." "I'm so glad for both I could sing." "Go on," said the woman; "I'm glad too, and I believe I could help you to holler."