"AFT GANG AGLEY!"

BY MISS IDA GIBB, DETROIT, MICH.

I had made plans to spend my vacation with a party of six in Northern Ontario, the Highlands of Canada, but the day before we intended to start I was notified of the illness of my mother, and I immediately took the train for my old home.

The illness proved not so serious as I had feared; our family physician assured me that only care and time were required to bring about his patient's complete recovery. Relief from apprehension made me happy and quite in the mood to renew my acquaintance with old friends, and to make the acquaintance of those who had come into the neighborhood during my residence in the city.

And thus it came about that my vacation was spent in quite an unusual manner-studying the types with which I came in contact. There was opportunity enough; I did not find it necessary to range far afield.

The first to claim my attention was the family of our tenant, who occupied a half of the house into which our old home had been made when mother and father retired from active farm life some years before. Mr. Jamieson, a shy, quiet man, is a Scotchman but recently come, as he told me, "frae the auld land; a graun' country, but nae sae guid for puir fowk." His family consists of his wife and five children, the latter ranging in ages from nine years to one-four girls and a boy, who is the baby of the family, and the adored one, for is he not a "wee mon?"

Their wonder and delight in the farm animals, the big fields, the orchard and growing things, expressed in their cunning Scotch fashion, was a constant source of amusement; and their joy and pleasure in the "wee pigs

ing for cash prizes, and we present the three stories that carried off the honors this season. Curiously enough, the prize-winners are all women: one employed at Detroit Headquarters, and the other two at the Branches indicated.

and chickens," a dog and some "bonnie kittens" would bring pleasure to any onlooker.

These things were all new to them, for while the father had farmed in Scotland he had worked for large landholders, and his family had lived in town.

Not all my entertainment came through the children, either, for I never tired listening to Mr. Jamieson, and usually managed to be at the well for a pail of water when he was going out, so I might say: "Good morning, Mr. Jamieson. Do you think we will have rain to-day?" just to hear him answer: "Weel, I dinna ken, but I hae me doots." Or, for the sake of a change, I might say, "Everything is very dry, Mr. Jamieson," and he would reply: "Me corn is fair burnit up, but I'm nae complainin'."

What would we do without the weather for a topic of conversation?

I had only been home a few hours when the young daughter of my old friend, Mrs. Beyr (or Nellie Little, as she will always be to me), came to the door with a pitcher of fresh buttermilk and a kind message. She had the dark eyes and hair of her father, but there was something in her voice and manner that carried me back to the happy days when her mother and I were schoolmates. What a mysterious thing is kinship!

A little later a woman, who owed mother some money, came bringing two eggs as part payment. She also brought two children, and they all stayed for dinner!

I wondered how much the debt had been reduced; but when they had gone and mother remarked, "I'm glad you gave them a good dinner. Poor things, I'm afraid they haven't much at home," I decided that the transaction was on the right side of the ledger, after all. Our next caller was a stranger to me, but a

near neighbor, and at the same time came Mrs. Jamieson, who, unlike her husband, is socially inclined, and usually finds it convenient to make a call when she knows others are present. She is a kind, motherly woman, and in a short time had won her way into the hearts of the people. But mingling as she does with her neighbors has caused her to lose much of her native Scotch, and she talks more like those bred on Canadian soil.

I sat an amused listener to the conversation between these two.

"I hear Mrs. Jackson has gone to Toronto again," remarked Mrs. Page.

"She goes often," replied Mrs. Jamieson. "Well, so she might, with a hired girl an' all them things she has to make her work light. For my part I wouldn't be bothered with all them new-fangled notions."

Turning to me she added: "You know the Jacksons come from the city, an' they're that stuck up they got a bathroom an' a big hogshead up to the top o' the house an' an engine to pump the water up into it, so it can run down-did ye ever hear the like? An' a furnace, an' a thing she calls a vakum cleaner; an' with it all she has to keep a hired girl. An' the engine makes her washin' machine go! I'd not keep a girl if I had all that. Yes, an' they got a kind a' stove that she says'll cook without fire, but I won't believe that till I see it with my own eyes"

"I saw Mr. Jackson sprayin' his trees as I went doon toon the day," broke in Mrs. Jamieson with an evident effort to turn the trend of conversation a trifle. "I was sayin' to Archie he ought to spray oors."

"Sprayin' is all stuff an' nonsense," pronounced the other. "Last year we didn't have more'n three or four barrels of apples off the whole orchard, an' I jest said to Jim Page I was glad we didn't go to the expense an' trouble o' sprayin'. An' them apples wasn't fit fer anything but the cider mill, either."

Mrs. Page was blissfully unconscious of the fact that she was probably giving the reason for their lack of good fruit. Then, determined that I should not be cheated of the information I ought to have concerning the Jacksons, she continued:

"As I said, the Jacksons come from the city, an' they're that stuck up; but with all their style-would ye believe it—they haven't a carpet in the whole house; just mats-rugs, she

calls 'em. I'd have a carpet on my settin' room, if it was only a rag carpet. An' do ye know that with the furnace that they say'll keep the whole house het, they have to have a fireplace? An' the other night I was passin' there an' I see they had company, an' they had candles on the table. I'm sure lamps give a better light, but maybe candles is cheaper. I just said to Jim Page: 'Talk about style an' bein' in the fashion, but my grandmother had them things-fireplace an' mats an' candles!' I suppose you don't know 'em? They've only been here the last two or three summers?"

"Yes," I replied, "I know them very well; have known them all my life, for they were reared here and only went to the city after they were married. Mr. Jackson has been wonderfully successful in business, and I am very glad, for they are fine people and will make good use of their money. They were showing me their summer home when I was here a year ago, and I was much interested, for they told me that when he gives up the strenuous business life they intend to make this their permanent home. I think a very great deal of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson."

Mrs. Page suddenly remembered her home and work, and said: "Well, I must be goin'. I got to churn to-day;" and Mrs. Jamieson in her perturbation harked back to her Scotch phraseology: "An' I maun gang, the bairnies will be sair needin' me."

Then there was my mother's pastor, who came to minister to the sick but brought with him a heavy heart sorely in need of comfort himself. A few months before he had come to that country parish from a large eastern city which he had been obliged to leave for the sake of his own and his daughter's health. He had found the climate beneficial, but the lack of equipment for his church work and lack of sympathy and coöperation on the part of his people had almost broken his heart. Finding in me an attentive and understanding audience he told of his discouragements, and I believe the telling somewhat lightened the burden.

Every day a bit of sunshine came in with dear old Aunt Jane, who was "Aunt Jane" to the whole neighborhood. Rose-colored glasses sprang to my eyes when I heard her cheery voice say, "I thought I'd bring my knittin' an' set a minute."

She brought all the news of the neighborhood in her cheerful, chatty way. Gossip?

Perhaps so; but it was the golden variety, for Aune Jane never saw anything but the best in people. If the outward action were faulty, she was always sure a good motive was back of it. She told the sweet little things one likes to hear, and left one with a feeling that the world is a good place to live in after all.

My vacation story would not be complete if I failed to mention the long, restful evenings, when my mother had retired and our farmer friends were busy with their domestic cares and I sat alone under the stars and watched the moon rise and slowly and majestically make its way a little distance across the sky, while I listened to the sounds of the night: the twittering of birds; the call of Bob White; a boy whistling to his dog; a woman's voice in the distance calling "Ko boss! Ko boss!" followed by the tinkling of a bell, showing that the woman had been heard and answered; the conversation of two men sitting on a fence of the adjoining farm, talking about the crops, the market, the weather, and, when every other topic had been discussed, the European war. And so the time passed quietly and happily.

Well, just before we reached St. Louis (to go back a little) we overtook four men standing beside a big car that had skidded off the road into a ditch. The front axle was broken and one wheel was off. They had been there all night, they told us, waiting for the help they had sent for. No one was hurt.

But maybe they weren't angry because the repair man with extra parts didn't show up! One fat man, in particular. He finally declared that he was going to hunt up a farmhouse and go to bed.

Again, we came to a place where the country was hilly; mountainous, in fact; and a car just ahead of us, in attempting to turn out to make way for another car which it met, plunged over the bank. One man was badly but not dangerously hurt.

Another accident was quite similar-only

ACROSS COUNTRY IN AN AUTO.

BY MISS ANNA MCVICKAR, KANSAS CITY, Mo. This is the story of a long trip in an automobile-from the Mississippi to points on the Atlantic seaboard, and back again.

We started bright and early Saturday morning (at 5:30, to be exact), having "packed" our Heinie the night before. Across the front of the car was a banner-"Kansas City to Atlantic City."

As we made our way eastward, people would decipher this pennant and then stare at us, wondering, perhaps, if we'd won it in a foolish contest.

We carried a tent and a camping outfit along, and it surely was a delightful and an exhilarating experience to sleep out-of-doors. Our little fox-terrier pup had the time of his life. And so did we!

We bowled along peacefully until we reached a point just outside Zanesville, Ohio, where we had punctures in three tires all at the same time. Misfortunes never come singly, they say! We got out and did some patching.

And may I digress right here to tell about. the accidents we saw-and one we experienced?

The author.

more so. Two cars went down a mountainThis accident side, turning over and over. occured at a point remote from a town and in a district thinly populated; nevertheless a crowd collected from somewhere.

At another time, while we were making our way through a big city, a motor-truck got beyond control and crashed into a farmer's wagon loaded with sheep, calves, and produce, and truck and all broke through the railing and rolled down the hillside. The farmer and his little boy and both horses were killed instantly, and the driver of the truck had both legs and three ribs broken.

Finally it came our turn. As we were going

up a grade in Brownsville, Pennsylvania, a motor-truck came rumbling up behind us on "high." In turning to avoid a trolley coming from the opposite direction, the big, heartless thing crashed into our poor little Henry, knocking us into another car standing at the curb. All four of our fenders were smashed up, as well as both running boards.

However, we happened to be right in front of a hotel, and the guests bore witness to the fact that it was the other fellow's fault; so we were appropriately reimbursed.

But believe me that was some scare!

It took us just a week exactly to reach Philadelphia-Saturday to Saturday. Our electric lights had gone out in the middle of a storm in the mountains, but we lighted our side lamps and reached our hotel safely.

We stayed in Philadelphia for a while, and then went on to Atlantic City. When we arrived there it was simply pouring, so we put up the car and went into one of the pavilions to watch the ocean.

We started back by way of Baltimore, Washington, and Harpers Ferry; we had gone by the northern route through Gettysburg. And, by the way, as we were passing over the famous battle ground at Gettysburg, a big bee stung me on the arm. I don't know whether he happened to be the spirit of a departed warrior or not, but I do know that the sting gave me a pretty sore arm for a couple of days.

We spent two days at Washington, D. C., and while there we met Congressman Ruby, of Lebanon, Mo., who said our pennant made him homesick.

At Harpers Ferry we saw the old John Brown's Fort and were in the most terrific storm I have ever witnessed. The rain came down in torrents and the thunder and lightning were fearful. There is a most peculiar thing down there. The two rivers, the Shenandoah and the Potomac, flow side by side, the waters of each touching the other. One is muddy and one is clear, but neither mingles with the other.

We had had so little trouble on our way East that we turned homeward with no misgivings whatever. But we were soon disillusioned. From the time we struck the Alleghanies we had nothing but trouble.

To detail what it was all about would be tiresome. Let one incident only serve as an example and at the same time end the trip. At Marshall, Missouri, one of our tires blew

reproduction of the one in Paris, France. We each burned a candle for good luck.

All through Canada we saw many soldiers; and the two things most noticeable were their youth and their sober faces. We were told that Canada's finest young fellows have joined the colors. Service on the Canadian steamships is not up to the mark, owing to the scarcity of help.

By nine o'clock the next night we were speeding away from Montreal, awakening in Boston, "U. S. A." Of course the first thing which impressed us was the narrow, winding streets; the next thing was the proof of the city's highbrowishness, for pay-as-you-enter cars are labeled in Boston "prepayment." Be

fore we had recovered from that shock, we passed a restaurant with the label "licensed victualer;" and a passing "cleaners" wagon was labeled "cleansers." As my bone-rimmed glasses had blown into the St. Lawrence and I had forgotten my dictionary, I probably missed a lot of things Bostonian !

There were many points of interest here. We took the historical trip which included Boston Common, Bunker Hill monument, Faneuil Hall, and the Charleston navy-yard. where we went aboard the famous "Old Ironsides."

available hack and climbed into it. After we had gone about three blocks we thought pedestrians were laughing at us; and at the end of the fourth block we knew they were. We decided to leave our antiquated conveyance a block short of our hotel; and just then a street car crossed our path.

We had been hoodwinked!

We spent three days in New York touring the shopping districts, riding on the Fifth Avenue busses, the "L" and the subway. We went on a sightseeing trip to Coney Island and ate frankfurts on a long roll, just like the

Returning, we were driven through the

Just giggling!

narrow streets of the original Boston, now the Ghetto. In this section the average per square foot is six children. To the amusement of our party, one youngster about eight years old took advantage of our having to stop a few minutes and imitated the lecturer. With his hand up to the side of his mouth he broke forth with: "Down the street-to your right -you see the home of-Paul Re-vere!"

That afternoon we took the residential trip, including Harvard University at Cambridge and the millionaire suburb, Brookline. At six o'clock that evening we left on the Fall River Line, en route to New York.

On Saturday morning we walked from the boat through a long shed and beheld New York. Immediately we were surrounded by porters, black and white, bickering to carry our baggage; and among them was a hackman who insisted that we hire his cab. He told us that a car strike had been called.

We considered ourselves lucky to have an

the top of the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor. Standing above the Goddess' right eyebrow, I was, indeed, dizzy in the head!

From New York we started on our return trip by way of Norfolk, Va. We had a delightful journey, passing many foreign ships as we neared Old Point Comfort. Before we even landed we heard a lady call to a passenger aboard our boat: "Wheah you-all goin'?" And we knew we were in the South.

An hour after landing we were on our way to Ocean View, styled in the ads "The Atlantic City of the South." Be that as it may, we thoroughly enjoyed our first dip in the ocean. We missed our boat and had to stay over until six the next afternoon.

We sailed up Chesapeake Bay that night, the water as smooth as glass-and a wonderful moon. About 11:30 we reached the Potomac River and landed in Washington, D. C., the following morning.

We spent two days here. We drove through residential Washington and then to all the buildings of the capitol, visiting the Treasury Building, the White House, the House of Representatives and the Senate.

The Senate was in session and the "Senator from Georgia" was on the floor.

While driving along the Potomac I said to the chauffeur: "I suppose you are busy all the year round?" He said: "Oh, yes! People coming and going all the time. Some with lots of money, and some pikers. A lot o' these fellows working for a railroad come up here on a pass to see the town. They come up with a clean collar and a five-dollar bill, and they go home without changing either!"

The next day we started for home and, as the doctors say, made a "rapid and uneventful recovery."