is a very hard and unpleasant thing to stub your toes on, and as you are the person who does most of the toe-stubbing around here, she was probably thinking of you.â
âBut she said you ,â Caroline persisted.
âShe meant all of us. Now if youâve finished your supper you can go out and play till itâs time to dry the silver.â
âCan I go over and play with Shirley?â
âYou can not. You can play in the yard.â
âI wish I could go and play with Shirley!â
âIf you spend any more time in wishing,â said her mother pleasantly, âit will be too dark to play anywhere, and then youâll have to go to bed.â
Caroline trailed half-heartedly towards the door, as Kay and Garry began to gather up the plates.
âThereâs one of you, anyway,â said Mrs. Ellis, âthatâs going to be brought up right.â
A muttered sound reached them, and she added aloud: âWhat was that you just said, Caroline?â
Caroline faced round, her hand on the screen door. âI only said âshucks!ââ
Kay smiled, and Garry turned to her mother.
âYou see, Penny dearâyouâd far better give it up! It isnât the least use in the world!â
Listeners Hear No Good
âMOTHER, Mr. Roweâs going to take apples over to the cider mill. Can we go with him?â
âI donât know if he wants you . . .â Mrs. Ellis began.
âHe does,â Martin insisted. âHe saved it for Saturday so we could all go along.â
âIs Shirley going, too?â For Caroline was hopping in the background, as impatient as her brother.
âYes. Her mother said she could!â
âThen run along! Caroline, youâd better take a coat.â They dashed off down the road to where Neal Rowe was waiting with his dilapidated truck, already loaded with two empty barrels and the heaped apples, a mountain of them, red and yellow and speckled, that Martin and Jimmie had helped all morning to rake up under the orchard trees. Shirley and Caroline sat in front and the two boys climbed in behind, hollowing a nest for themselves among the apples and holding to the sides ofthe truck as it lurched and swung down the bumpy road.
It was a clear day, with a sky of that deep burning blue that only comes in fall, and a tang of brush smoke and wild grapes on the air. Virginia creeper and poison ivy were scarlet along the stone walls, and asters and goldenrod still bloomed here and there by the roadside. The mill to which Neal always took his apples was not the big affair down the state road but a smaller one some few miles away, reached by a narrow back road that wound up and down hill, now through woods, now between stony pastures thick with sumac, becoming less and less traveled as it went, till at the last dip it joined the beginning of an old corduroy road crossing a tract of swamp land.
This road had originally been built for logging. Years ago all the big timber had been cut from the swamp and now there was only a sparse second growth, with the old water-logged stumps dotting the ground and here and there a dead tree, gray and gaunt like a skeleton, and everywhere the rank emerald swamp growth thrusting up through the black spongy soil. The air was close and heavy with the smell of rotting wood and stagnant water. There was a legend that bears livedâor had livedâin this swamp, which stretched on either side for a couple of miles, and Jimmie and Martin felt an excited thrillas they peered between the trees, while the little girls pressed close together, staring down fearfully at the dark water that oozed between the logs as the truck pushed slowly forward.
âDonât know how good this road is any more,â Neal said as he steered carefully, watching his front wheels. âItâs all of a year since I was over it last. If the old truck gets stuck, boys, youâll have to help pull her out!â
But