"Tired of shelling peas? Land no, I like it! I can sit in here and look at you, or out on the back piazza and watch the mountains, or on the front step and see folks drive by, and I've always got my thoughts." A shadow crossed the placid face. "My thoughts work better when my fingers are busy. I'd hate to just sit and hold my hands. Ted dared me once to try it for an hour. That was the longest hour I ever spent." Mrs. Gordon had risen to peer through the window after a rapidly receding wagon. "There!" she said. "There goes that woman from Bayfield I want to sell some of my bees to. She's going down to Blisses' and I'd better walk right over and talk to her, as the telephone won't work. I 'most think one hive is going to swarm this morning, but I guess I'll have time to get back before they come out. Hello, Johnny, how do you do to-day?" "All right," lisped the small solemn-eyed urchin who had strayed in from the kitchen and now stood in the door hitching at a diminutive pair of trousers and eying Elliott absorbedly. "Gone!" he announced suddenly; coming out of his scrutiny. "What, your button?" Harriet pulled him up to her. "I'll sew it on in a jiffy. Don't worry about the bees, Mother. I can manage them, if they decide to swarm before you get back, and while you're at the Blisses' just telephone central our phone's out of order--and oh, please tell Mrs. Cameron we're keeping Elliott till afternoon." Mrs. Gordon departed and Harriet sewed on the button. "There, Johnny, now you're all right. You can run out and play." But Johnny became suddenly galvanized into action. He dived into a small pocket and produced a note, crumpled and soiled, but still legible. "If that isn't provoking!" said Harriet, when she had read it. "Why didn't you give me this the first thing, Johnny? Then Mother could have done this telephoning, too, at the Blisses'." "What is it?" asked Elliott. "A message Johnny's mother wants sent. She's our hired man's wife and I must say at times she shows about as much brains as a chicken. You'd think she'd know our 'phone wouldn't be likely to work, if hers didn't. Now I shall have to go over to the Blisses' myself, I suppose. The message seems fairly important. Where has your mother gone, Johnny?" But Johnny didn't know; beyond a vague "she wided away" he was non-committal. "She might have stopped somewhere and telephoned for herself, I should think," grumbled Harriet. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Or will you come, too? If I can't 'phone from the Blisses' I may have to go farther." "I'll stay here, I think, and wash up my dishes. And after that I'll finish the peas." "Mercy me, I shan't be gone that long! We're shelling these to put up, you know. Don't bother about washing your dishes, either. They'll keep." "Who's saying bother, now?" Elliott's dimples twinkled mischievously. Harriet laughed. "You and Johnny can mind the place. The men and Alma are all off at the lower farm and here goes the last woman. Good-by."