sociable sort of man, I guess, and peddlin' suits me for a hobby first rate.
Two years ago last spring when I called up at the Janses' I hadn't been near the house for over eighteen months. I went up after supper 'bout sunset-time. The meadow down to the foot of the hill in front of the Janse house is kind of a swampy place—full of frogs in the spring, and as Nellie and I jogged along the little narrow road, and got nearer to the Janse house, I couldn't hear a sound but the wail of cryin', screechin', wild things all about me, to a depth of a hundred miles or so, it seemed.
When I reached the clump of lilacs, hidin' the Janse house, I hollered out a good healthy "Whoa" to Nellie, and cramped my wheel round sharp so's it would scrape and make a noise, and Isabel could know 'twas a human come to see her. Then I got out and lifted one of my suit-cases from the back of the buggy. I was goin' round to the back door, same's usual, when I caught a glimpse o' Isabel, settin' on the little low, front steps in front of the saggin' front door, which the wood-bine was doin' its best to cover up.
I cut across through the grass growin' rank and coarse in the front yard, and went over towards her way.
