"Wal," sighed Aunt 'Mira, comfortably, rocking creakingly on the front porch of the old Day house in the glow of sunset, "Polktown does seem rejoovenated, jest like Mr. Middler preached last Sunday, since rum sellin' has gone out. And it was a sight for sore eyes ter see Marm Parraday come ter church ag'in—an' that poor, miser'ble Lem taggin' after her."
Janice laughed, happily. "I know that there can be nobody in town as glad that the vote went 'no license' as the Parradays."
"Ya-as," agreed Aunt 'Mira, rather absently. "Did ye notice Marm's new bonnet? It looked right smart to me. I'm a-goin' ter have Miz Lynch make me one like it."
"Say, Janice! want anything down town?" asked Marty coming out of the house and starting through the yard.
"It doesn't seem to me as though I really wanted but one thing in all this big, beautiful world!" said his cousin, with longing in her voice.
"What's that, child?" asked her aunt.
"I want daddy to come home."
Marty went off whistling. Aunt 'Mira rocked a while, "Ya-as," she finally said, "if Broxton Day would only let them Mexicaners alone an' come up here to Polktown——"
Janice suddenly started from her chair; her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled. "Oh! here he is!" she murmured.
"Here who is? Who d'ye mean, Janice Day? Not yer father?" gasped
Aunt 'Mira, staring with near-sighted eyes down the shadowy path.