Such a happy meal as it was. Mr. Anderson told how he had, unexpectedly, received a vacation, and had determined to use it in coming to see how his son was getting along. Of course Mrs. Anderson and the baby must come too.
"'N' I hope ye kin all stay a year," said Mr. Kimball, heartily.
Mrs. Kimball was so "flustrated," as she put it, that she hardly knew whether she was passing the bread or the cake. But every one agreed that she did most excellently, and there was so much talking and laughing that nobody seemed to care much whether they ate or not. The day was dying off into a perfect evening. The June sun was sinking down behind the wooded hills. Farmers were returning from their fields, tired but happy. The crickets and tree-toads were beginning their night songs. Darkness was settling down over peaceful Cardiff valley.
"How does it agree with you out here, Roger?" asked Mr. Anderson. "Do you think you would like to stay?"
"Would I?" began Roger. Then he glanced lovingly at his father, mother, and the baby. "I would, if all of you could stay too," he finished.
They had come out on the broad stone porch to sit in the cool twilight.
"We won't know how t' git along 'ithout him," said Mr. Kimball, and then he told all about the salt well, to the secret delight of Mr. Anderson, who felt very proud of his son.
"I'm afraid we'll have to have Roger back soon, however," said the boy's father. "His school principal came to see me the other day, and wanted to know when he was coming home to take up his lessons."
Books and studies, save such as beautiful Mother Nature provided, had been almost forgotten by Roger.
"Wa'al," began Mr. Kimball, "when it comes t' school, I've a sort a' proposition t' make. Ye see, ef it hadn't bin fer Roger, I wouldn't 'a' had any salt spring, 'n' 't ain't no more 'n' common justice thet he should hev a part on it."