Spring's Gentle Promise Read Free Page B

a moment’s peace about the motor car. I began to wish I hadn’t mentioned it. Still, her enthusiastic arguments in favor of the vehicle may have gone a long way toward influencing Grandpa and Uncle Charlie. At any rate, I never did hear much opposition to the idea, and everybody seemed to be holding their breath—waiting to see what the harvest would bring.
    About the same time I finished the planting, the school doors closed for another year and Matilda left for her home again.
    “Oh, Josh,” she enthused on before departing, “I can hardly wait for fall—and the car. It’ll be such fun, Josh!” She emitted a strange little sound like a combination sigh and groan.
    “I haven’t promised,” I reminded her. “Just said I’d be thinkin’ on it.”
    “I know. I know. And it will be such fun!” Apparently Matilda didn’t want to hear of the possibility of not getting a car, so I let the matter drop.
    As usual, Matilda and Mary’s goodbye was rather emotional. They had grown to be like sisters in their affection and missed each other during the summer months.
    “Oh, I’ll be lonely without her,” Mary half-whispered after Matilda was gone, and she slyly wiped her cheek with her handkerchief.
    “Summer will pass quickly,” I tried to console her.
    “The house is always so—so quiet when she’s gone,” she responded.
    It is quiet without Matilda’s bubbly enthusiasm, I mentally agreed.
    “You’ll be busy with the garden,” I reminded Mary.
    She nodded; then after a moment of silence she said wistfully, “Maybe Lou will let Sarah Jane come visit for a while. She is ’most as chattery as Matilda.”
    I smiled at the thought. Sarah Jane was getting to be quite a little lady. And it was true that she was “chattery.”
    “Maybe,” I responded, “for a few days. Lou counts on Sarah for running errands and entertaining her two little brothers.”
    Mary thoughtfully spoke as though to herself. “Lou does need her more than I do. It was selfish of me to—”
    But I interrupted. “It wasn’t selfish. Grandpa and Uncle Charlie—and me—we all look forward to her coming.”
    “Maybe we could have Jon come to the farm, too,” Mary brightened. “That would leave Lou with just the baby.”
    I wasn’t sure Mary wanted to take on the lively Jon plus all of the household and garden chores of farm life. I was about to say so, but she placed a hand on my arm, seeming to know just what I was thinking.
    “It wouldn’t be so bad,” she argued. “Sarah would help with Jon, and there is lots for a boy to do on the farm, and the garden isn’t ready for pickin’ or cannin’ yet, and he’s usually not too rascally.” She looked a bit doubtful about her last statement. “Besides,” she hurried on, “it sure would make the house more—more—”
    I looked at the small hand resting on my arm. It was hard for me to argue against Mary, but I did wonder if she was thinking straight to figure that Jon wouldn’t take much time or trouble.
    “It would help the summer pass more quickly,” she finished lamely.
    “Why don’t you try it for a few days—to start with? Make sure you aren’t gettin’ in over your head,” I advised.
    Mary smiled, and I knew she was pleased with my qualified consent.
    It wasn’t that Jon was a bad boy, and it certainly wasn’t that I didn’t love my young nephew, but he was one of the busiest and most curious children I had ever known. His poking and prodding into things invariably got him into some kind of trouble.
    “Keep him away from the tractor,” I added quite firmly, remembering the time Jon had poured dirt in the gas tank.
    Mary just nodded. “I’ll check with Lou next time I’m in town,” she promised. I couldn’t help but think that a break from Sarah and Jon might be a welcome change for my Aunt Lou.
    True to her word, Mary made arrangements with Lou. And before the week was out, Sarah and Jon had joined us at the farm. Sarah busied herself with copying