The Knights’ motto might have been: “Lazy Faire” and the Buck’s “’Nuff Said,” as a wag at Ryeville had declared, but such mottoes did not fit Miss Judith. Nothing must be left as it was unless it was already exactly right and enough was not said until she had spoken her mind freely and fearlessly. Everything about this girl was free and fearless—her walk, the way she held her head, her unflinching hazel 48 eyes and ready, ringing laugh. Even her red gold hair demanded freedom and refused to stay confined in coil, braid or net.
“I’m sure I don’t know where you came from,” Mrs. Buck drawled. “You’re so energetic and wasteful like. Of course my folks were never ones to sit still and be taken care of like the Bucks,” and then her mild eyes would snap a bit, “but the Knights believed in saving.”
“Even energy?” asked Judith saucily.
“Well, there isn’t any use in wasting even energy. My father used to say that saving was the keynote of life as well as religion. I reckon you must be a throw back to my mother’s grandfather, who was a Norse sailor, and reckless and wasteful and red-headed.”
“Maybe so! At any rate I’m going to plough some guano into these acres, even though I can’t plough the seas like my worthy grandpap, Sven Thorwald Woden, or whatever his name was. Just look at our wheat, Mother! It isn’t fit to feed chickens with because our land is so poor. I’m tired of this eternal saving and no making. There is no reason why our yield shouldn’t be as great per acre as Buck Hill, but we don’t get half as much as they do. I’ve got to make a lot of money this summer so as to buy bags and bags of fertilizer. I’ve got a new scheme.” 49
“I’ll be bound you have,” sighed Mrs. Buck.
“But you’ll have to help me by making cakes and pies and things and peeling potatoes.”
“All right, just so you don’t hurry me! I can’t be hurried.”
“What a nice mother you are to say all right without even asking what it is.”
“There wasn’t any use in wasting my breath asking, because I knew you’d tell me without asking.”