"It don't foller they'd go to her if there was," put in her brother.
"Oh now you just shut up, Goto! you never did take no stock in Damaris."
"No, nor you neither, Rhoda Jane; 'cept once in a while just fur contrariness. No, I don't take no shine to Miss Drybread; she's a unmitigated old maid."
"I wish the man had been a doctor and good on curin' the agur," said Mrs. Lightcap, replenishing her husband's cap. "What's up now, Rhoda Jane?" as that damsel suddenly pushed back her chair, sprang up, and rushed through the adjoining room to the front door.
"A wagon goin' by filled full of great boxes o' goods," shouted back the girl. "There they're stoppin' at the yaller house on the corner. Come and look."
The whole family, dropping knives and forks, the children with hands and mouths full, ran pell mell to door and windows to enjoy the sight.
"I wonder what's up, father? are we goin' to have a new store over there, think?" queried Mrs. Lightcap, standing on the outer step with her hands on her hips, her gaze turned steadily in the direction of the corner house.
"Dunno, mother; b'lieve I'll jest step over and ask. Come along Goto, I guess they'd like some help with them thar big boxes."
They were kind-hearted, neighborly folk—those early settlers of Pleasant Plains, always ready to lend a helping hand wherever it was needed.
"It's the new lawyer feller's traps," announced Mr. Lightcap, as he and his son rejoined the waiting, expectant wife and children; "he's took the house and we'll have 'em for neighbors."