But
by this time she saw that it was a joke, and the box on the ear that she
gave me was not a very hard one.
"Seems to me, young folks, I heard quite too much noise down here for
Sunday morning," grandmother said severely when she appeared a little
later. "Such racing and running! You really must have better regard for
the day."
Preparations for breakfast went on in a subdued manner, and we were
sitting at table rather quietly when a caller appeared at the door--Mrs.
Rufus Sylvester, who lived about a mile from us. Her face wore a look of
anxiety.
"Squire," she exclaimed, "I implore you to come over and say something
to Rufus! He's terrible downcast this morning. He went out to the barn,
but he hasn't milked, nor done his chores. He's settin' out there with
his face in his hands, groanin'. I'm afraid, Squire, he may try to take
his own life!"
The old Squire rose from the table and led Mrs. Sylvester into the
sitting-room; grandmother followed them and carefully shut the door
behind her. We heard them speaking in low tones for some moments; then
they came out, and both the old Squire and grandmother Ruth set off with
Mrs.
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