The Brimming Cup

urs from Mr. W

il

of rest which his retiring from the office was to be. Especially as he had dragged himself from bed to stop the relentless snarl of his alarm-clock, had he hoped for late morn

arly morning, and how they had different voices in the dark; the faint whisper of the maple-branches, the occasional stir and muffled chirp of a bird, the hushed, secret murmur of the little brook which ran between his garden and the Crittenden yard, and the distant, deeper no

all hours and slept till ten. Down the stairs in his stocking-feet, his shoes in his hand; a pause in the living-room to thread and fasten shoe-laces; and then, his silly old heart beating fast, his hand on the door-knob. The door slowly opened, and the garden, h

ut a continuous cascade of quick, high, eager notes from the top of the elm; a large toad squatted peaceably in the sun, the loose skin over its forehead throbbing rhythmically with the life in it; and over on the steps of the Crittendens' kitchen, the old Indian woman, as motionless as the toad, fixed her opaque black ey

nevitable precursor of his little master, and then, stepping around Touclé as though she were a tree or a rock, came his little partner Paul, his freckled

. Welles,"

ul," said

morning," was what Paul invariably said first. "I

t his plan for that pa

back-road by Cousin Hetty's, and get back by the

idiom. Then they set off, surrounded and encompassed by the circles of mad delight which Médor wove a

on the left side where it had been lumbered some years ago. Paul pointed out proudly the thrifty growth of the new pines and explained it by showing the several large trees left standing at intervals down the slope towards the Ashley valley.

sweetly in his elm; but Paul's voice and that of the nameless bird gave him the same pleasure. He tightened his hold of the tough, sinewy lit

they can't think of anything to do except just to keep a-running till something gets in their way. About half of the Powers flock just ran themselves off the top of the Rocks, although the dog had stopped chasing them, way down in the valley. There wasn't enough of them left, even to sell to th

e boy whose treble voice ran on and on, whose strong little hand clasped yours so tightly, and who turned up to you eyes of such clear trust! Was he the same man who for such endless ye

as the first one blown at half-past six, so's the men can have t

f the day-dream in which Mr. Welles was walking. "Where do they come from anyhow, the men who wor

r says that before Father and Mother came here to live and really run the mill, that Ashley Street was all full of empty houses, without a light in them, that the old folks had died out of. But now the men hav

shimmer of content and walked along, hearing Paul's voice o

tug at his hand. Paul gave out the word of command,

over the hill pasture-land which cut Ashley village off from Crittenden's mill.

ing that it must bother them a lot to come th

fast can make it easy in twelve or fifteen minutes. There they come now, the first of them." He nodded backward along t

urse nobody does much chopping come warmer weather. But Father never lays off any men unless they want to be. He fixes

un rose up splendid in the sparkling, dustless mountain air. The pasture grass on either side of the sinuous path lay shi

od way to get to their work, a

Paul. "It's got tramped d

ed them, and with friendly, careless nods and greetings to Paul, they swung by, smo

lo, Jom-bastiste. Hello, Jim." Paul made answ

These were men, useful to the world, strong for

alid, still fit for something. For a moment it did not seem as sweet as

il

nden conceded to him, stopping her rapid manipulation of an oiled mop on the floor of her living-room, if he was in such a hurry, he could start getting the ground ready for the sweet peas. It wouldn't do any harm to plant them now, though it might

his feet, freed from the tension of frost which had held it like stone when he had first trod his garden. He leaned against the stone wall, laid a century ago by who knew what other gardener, and looked down respectfully at

es, the pearly many-colored flesh of the petals, their cunning, involved symmetry of form-all sprun

erful busines

nd energetic and nice; but suddenly aware that Vincent was gazing idly out of an upper window at them, he guessed that the other man would not

hand till I went down to the store to buy one. I might as well go the whole hog and confess I'd never even heard of one till you told me to get it. Is this the way you use it?" He jabbed

the handle, saying, "So, you hold it this way. Then you swing it up, back of your head. There's a sort of knack to that. You'll soon catch it. And then, if the ground isn't very hard, you don't

I relax and just let it fall," and bending with the downward rush of the blade, drove it deep into the brown earth. A forward thrust of

loose, friable, and moist, from which there rose in a gust of

andful of the soil which had lain locked in frost for half a year and was now f

ng like it, the smell of the fi

"It's the very first s

towards them immaculate in a gray suit. Mr. Welles was not at all glad to see him at this moment. "Here,

is impatience on the unresisting earth. But he could not help hearing that, just as he expected, Vincent plunged at once into his queer, abrupt talk. He always seemed to think he was going right on with something that had been said before,

aid with an air of enforced patience with obvious unreasonableness, "You're on the wrong track, you know. You're just all

seriously, "You

p-sided in his hands, thought that this did not sound like a polite thing to say to a lady. And yet the way Vincent said it made it sound like a

as he sounded. The only part he really heard was when she ended, ". . . oh, if we are ever going to succeed in forcing order on the natural disorder of

gone conclusion, something so admitted that it needed no emphasis, "It's Haroldbellwrightism, pure and simple, to imagine that anything you can ever do, that anybody can ever do, will help bring about the kind of order you're talking about, order for everybody. The only kind of order there ever w

ght the knack of the upward swing, and had the immense satisfaction o

ly to Mrs. Crittenden,

ly looked troubled, or if he only imagined it. There was no doubt about how Vincent looked, as

as he was with the air, the sun, and his new mastery over the soil. He set his hands lovingly to the tool and again and again swung it high over his he