“Fer goodness sakes, what’s Timotheus been a doin’ naow, I wonder,” muttered Mrs. Hodgkins.  “I shan’t ask, an’ be told ter wait, as Silas Barnes was.

“I’d like ter know one thing,” she continued, “an’ that is whether the boy is ’specially bright as his father thinks, or whether he’s a little lackin’ as I think, an’ I do’no who’s ter decide.”

Up the road she trudged, and as she turned the corner, a most surprising sight caused her to stop and ejaculate.  “Land er the livin’!  What ails him naow?”

Timotheus Simpkins, unaware that he was observed, was executing a most fantastic jig in the middle of the road.

“I’ve did it naow, I bet ye ’n even Joel ’ll have ter admit I’m a sight bigger’n anybody ‘n taown.  Good-bye ter farmin’ and hooray fer literatoor, I say.”

“Wal, be ye losin’ yer senses, er clean gone crazy?” asked Mrs. Hodgkins in disgust.

Timotheus paused in his wild pirouette, and gave Mrs. Hodgkins a withering glance.

“It ain’t wuth while ter explain Mis’ Hodgkins, bein’s I don’t feel ye’d be able ter’ understand the magnitood er what I’ve done.”

“Dew tell!” remarked Mrs. Hodgkins with fine contempt, “I hope the taown is still big ’nough ter hold ye, Mr. Simpkins.”

Her irony was wasted, however.

“I’m glad ye reelize the time’s come ter ’dress me as ‘Mr.,’” remarked Timotheus, and Mrs. Hodgkins vouchsafed no answer, but hurried along the road, “afeared ter speak,” as she afterward said, “lest I’d say a deal more’n I orter.”

In the long drawing-room Randy and Helen Dayton were chatting merrily with Jotham and Professor Marden when Aunt Marcia joined them, expressing pleasure in being at home to share the call.

In two weeks the private school would close, when Randy would say “good-bye” to her city home and the two dear friends who had entertained her, to the schoolmates of whom she had become so fond, and then she would be speeding over the rails every mile of which would take her nearer home, the dear country home.  As Jotham was to leave the city at the same time, he asked the pleasure of accompanying Randy upon the journey, and his offer was gladly accepted.

“And have you heard the latest news from home, Randy?” asked Jotham.  Without awaiting a reply he continued,

“Timotheus Simpkins has ‘blossomed aout,’ as his father expresses it and a specimen of his ‘literatoor’ is printed in the county paper.  Father sent me a marked copy, and if you like I will read the article.”

“I should indeed like to hear it,” said Aunt Marcia; “from what Randy says of him I think Timotheus must be an unique character.”

“He is truly an odd specimen,” said Helen, “I cannot imagine what he would write.”

“Read it, do read it,” said Randy, and Jotham read the following: 

    “THORT.