"She's got a beau. Pa'son Walker's 'visin' young people to marry, an' it does smart up the young fellows and keep them out of taverns. An' then they get thinking 'bout a house. Well, you jes' make the most out of M'liss. Is your father's garden turning out much? We've had quite a dry spell."
"Father had it all wet one day. Yes, it is in good order. I hope next year we'll have ever so many berries."
"Chicago won't ever be the garden of the Lord, but Adam an' Eve were turned out of that. Even a thistle wouldn't grow here unless you planted and watered it. What people ever see in this place to come an' settle passes me; an' ther's so many splendid places in the world where things grow fairly wild. I don't wonder people sell out an' go away."
"We're going to be a big port sometime," I announced.
"Sho, that's the men's talk. I've heard men talk before. Where's all the people comin' from, I'd like to know? To hear em brag sometimes you'd think they'd be crossin' the Rocky Mountains 'cause there wasn't any room on this side!"
Mother threw back her head and laughed.
Father was walking up the path and then she declared she must get supper.
"Oh, let me put on the dishes," and Ruth rose, hanging her bonnet carefully on a wooden peg.
Father greeted her cordially and said it had been a full month since he set eyes on her. We all filed indoors, even to the big tiger cat, who kept following Ruth about wistfully. The boys never tormented him when Ruth was around. They came to the table with cleaner hands, and were much more mannerly, I noticed.
We had a rather jolly meal even if it was Sunday. Afterward we sung some hymns. Mother was very fond of them. Then I walked home with Ruth, though Ben glanced at us large-eyed and wistful.