Produced by David Garcia, Larry B. Harrison, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE IRON WAY. A Tale of the Builders of the West. With four illustrations by John W. Norton. _Fifth edition._ Large 12mo, $1.50.
BY SARAH PRATT CARR AUTHOR OF “THE IRON WAY”
The Lakeside Press R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY CHICAGO
To One Boy, strong, buoyant, and true, generously loved, yet more generously loving, this book is affectionately dedicated.
“What’s the matter with Billy To-morrow?” 44
“You’re George Rideout Smith’s kid, ain’t you?” 200
As Billy Bennett wheeled around the corner he saw his mother in the doorway. Also he saw Jean Hammond across the street speaking with Bess Carter,--the Queen of Sheba, the children called her, she was so large and dark and handsome, and had such a royal way, like a sure ’nough queen, one said. Though why children who had never been out of Vine County should know so much about queens no one thought to ask.
Billy suspected his mother was waiting for him; he must hurry, he thought. Yet he couldn’t resist showing off a bit. He bent over his wheel, went by the girls with a rush and a “Hello!” made a neat turn, wheeled a figure “8” around a team or two, shouted, “Don’t frame up anything there!” as he passed a second time, and whizzed through the arch in his own high hedge with one wheel in the air.
He swung his book-strap in greeting to his mother while rolling more slowly up the rose-bordered path to the veranda. He thought his mother’s face looked tired; but the smile there welcomed him warmly, and he forgot the tired look with her first words.
“I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.”
“Do you need it right away?” Billy stood his wheel against the steps and flung his books on the porch table.
“Not till evening; but there’s the lawn.”
“I’ll mow in the morning. Let me stay and visit Pretty--Harold, I mean--till sundown; can’t I, mamma?” He patted her cheek with a vigor that made her wink. “You know you can’t refuse your darling boy,” he wheedled.
In spite of her smile there was a tinge of gravity in her silent moment of consideration. “Very well, Billy. You know how short Saturday is, and that to-morrow you’ll wish you’d cut the grass to-day. Yet I leave it to you; do as you like.”