Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville

"

"Road's bad an' up hill, an' my time's vallyble," he said in a surly

voice. "I'll hev to charge ye three dollars."

"For what?" asked Uncle John, quietly.

"Fer the two teams to Millville."

"Get them harnessed right away, load up the baggage, and have the

democrat at the hotel in twenty minutes. Here's five dollars, and if

you'll look pleasant you may keep the change."

"Blame my thick skull!" muttered the livery-man, as he watched the

little man depart. "What a cussed fool I were not to say four dollars

instead o' three!"

But he called to his boy to hurry up, and in the stipulated time the

teams were ready.

Uncle John and his nieces were just finishing their eggs, which were

fresh and delicious. The milk was also a revelation. Through the windows

of the hotel several frowsy looking women and an open mouthed boy were

staring hard at the unconscious city folk.

Even Louise was in a mood for laughter as they mounted to the high seats

of the democrat. The glorious air, the clear sunshine and a satisfactory

if simple breakfast had put them all in a good humor with the world.

They stopped at the station for their hand baggage, and saw that the

trunks were properly loaded on the lumber wagon. Then, slowly, they

started to mount the long hill that began its incline just across

the tracks.

"Sure this is the way?" inquired Uncle John, perched beside the driver.

"I were horned here," answered the man, conclusively.

"That seems to settle it. Pretty big hill, that one ahead of us."

"It's the Little Bill. When we cross it, we're at Millville."

Seven miles of desolate country could not dampen the spirits of the

girls. Secretly each one was confident that Uncle John's unknown farm

would prove to be impossible, and that in a day or so at the latest they

would retrace their steps. But in the meantime the adventure was novel

and interesting, and they were prepared to accept the inevitable with

all graciousness.

When, after the long climb up the hill, they saw the quaint mill and the

town lying just across rushing Little Bill Creek; when from their

elevation they beheld the placid lake half hidden by its stately pines

and gazed up the rugged and picturesque foot-hills to the great

mountains beyond, then indeed they drew in deep breaths and began, as

Patsy exclaimed, to be "glad they came.