Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

Kenneth had often wandered into these out-of-the-way places

when a half-forgotten, neglected lad, but had not visited them for

years. Now, however, with the spirit of loneliness upon him, he suddenly

thought of a glen that would make an interesting study for a picture; so

one morning he mounted his horse and rode away to pay the place a

preliminary visit.

The farmers along the road nodded at the young fellow good-naturedly as

he passed them. Everyone knew him well by sight, yet Kenneth could not

have named many of his neighbors, having held little intercourse with

them. It struck him, this morning, that they had little cause to be

interested in him. He had been an unsociable lad, and since he had

become master of Elmhurst had done little to cultivate acquaintance with

the people who lived around him.

One reason for this was that they held little in common with him. The

neighboring farmers were honest, thrifty souls, and among them were many

both shrewd and thoughtful; but they naturally would not force

themselves upon the society of the one really rich man in their

community, especially as that man had shown no desire to know them.

Kenneth was the subject of much speculation among them, and opinions

widely differed concerning his character. Some called him a "prig" and

declared that he was "stuck up" and conceited. Others said he was a

"namby-pamby" without brains or wit. But there were a few who had

occasionally talked with the boy, who understood him better, and hinted

that he might develop into "quite a man" in time.

Kenneth surprised himself this morning by greeting several of his

neighbors with unusual cordiality. He even stopped a man who was driving

along the highway to inquire about his horse, which he perceived was

very lame. The boy knew something about horses and suggested a method of

treatment that he thought would help the nag; a suggestion the farmer

received with real gratitude.

This simple incident cheered Kenneth more than you might suppose, and he

was actually whistling as he rode through the glen, where the country

road wound its way beside the noisy, rushing stream.