'Phemie became enthusiastic at once and before Lucas hove in view, evidently anxiously looking for them, the younger girl had gathered a great bunch of early flowers. "They're mighty purty," commented the young farmer, as the girls climbed over the wheel with their muddy boots and all. 'Phemie, giggling, took her seat on the other side of him. She had given one look at the awkwardly arranged load on the wagon-body and at once became helpless with suppressed laughter. If the girls she had worked with in the millinery store for the last few months could see them and their "lares and penates" perched upon this farm wagon, with this son of Jehu for a driver! "I reckon you expect to stay a spell?" said Lucas, with a significant glance from the conglomerate load to Lyddy. "Yes--we hope to," replied the oldest Bray girl. "Do you think the house is in very bad shape inside?" "I dunno. We never go in it, Miss," responded Lucas, shaking his head. "Mis' Hammon' never left us the key--not to upstairs. Dad's stored cider and vinegar in the cellar under the east ell for sev'ral years. It's a better cellar'n we've got. "An' I dunno what dad'll say," he added, "to your goin' up there to live." "What's he got to do with it?" asked 'Phemie, quickly. "Why, we work the farm on shares an' we was calc'latin' to do so this year." "Our living in the house doesn't interfere with that arrangement," said Lyddy, quietly. "Aunt Jane told us all about that. I have a letter from her for your father." "Aw--well," commented Lucas, slowly. The ponies had begun to mount the rise in earnest now. They tugged eagerly at the load, and trotted on the level stretches as though tireless. Lyddy commented upon this, and Lucas flushed with delight at her praise. "They're hill-bred, they be," he said, proudly. "Tackle 'em to a buggy, or a light cart, an' up hill or down hill means the same to 'em. They won't break their trot. "When it comes plowin' time we clip 'em, an' then they don't look so bad in harness," confided the young fellow. "If--if you like, I'll take you drivin' over the hills some day--when the roads git settled." "Thank you," responded Lyddy, non-committally. But 'Phemie giggled "How nice!" and watched the red flow into the young fellow's face with wicked appreciation. The roads certainly had not "settled" after the winter frosts, if this one they were now climbing was a proper sample. 'Phemie and Lyddy held on with both hands to the smooth board which served for a seat to the springless wagon--and they were being bumped about in a most exciting way. 'Phemie began to wonder if Lucas was not quite as much amused by their unfamiliarity with this method of transportation as she was by his bashfulness and awkward manners. Lyddy fairly wailed, at last: "Wha--what a dread--dreadful ro-o-o-ad!" and she seized Lucas suddenly by the arm nearest to her and frankly held on, while the forward wheel on her side bounced into the air.