Clarkson Poor blinked a bit before recognition came. “Yes,” he said, “I bought the old place a couple o' year back, arter them city folks you sold it to got sick on it. Too fer off the trolley line for them. John's house over yon some noo comers 'a' got. They ain't changed it none. This is about the only part o' town that ain't changed, though. Most o' the old folks is gone, too, and the young uns, like you chaps, all git ambitious fer the cities. I give up cuttin' hair 'bout three year back—got kinder onsteady an' cut too many ears.”
A sudden smile broke over Old Hundred's face. “Clarkie,” he said, “you were always up on such things—is it rats or warts that you write a note to when you want 'em to go away?”
“Yes, it's rats, isn't it?” I cried, also reminded, for the first time, of our real quest.
“Why,” said Clarkie, “you must be sure to make the note very partic'lar perlite, and tell 'em whar to go. Don't fergit that.”
“Yes, yes,” said we, “but is it warts or rats?”
“Well,” said Clarkie, “it's both.”
We looked one at the other, and grinned rather sheepishly.
“Only thar's a better way fer warts,” Clarkie went on. “I knew a boy once who sold his. That's the best way. Yer don't have actually to sell 'em. Just git another feller to say, 'I'll give yer five cents fer yer warts,' and you say, 'All right, they're yourn,' and then they go. Fact.”
We thanked him, and moved down to the road, declining his invitation to come into the house. Westward, the sun had gone down and left the sky a glowing amber and rose. The fields rolled their young green like a checkered carpet over the low hills—the sweet, familiar hills. For an instant, in the hush of gathering twilight, we stood there silent and bridged the years; wiping out the strife, the toil, the ambitions, we were boys again.
“Hark!” said Old Hundred, softly. Down through the orchard we heard the thin, sweet tinkle of a cow-bell. “There's a boy behind, with the peeled switch,” he added, “looking dreamily up at the first star, and wishing on it—wishing for a lot of things he'll never get. But I'm sure he isn't barefoot. Let's go.”