whenever the bay becomes a field of ice and a field of sport as well
were there to see the old men arrive, and as they stepped out of the
carriage there came forward from among the group gathered about the fire
on the beach the editor of the "Shoreville Herald."

Ever since his entrance into the Old Ladies' Home, Abe had never stopped
chafing in secret over the fact that until he died, and no doubt
received a worthy obituary, he might never again "have his name in the
paper."

In former days the successive editors of the local sheet had been
willing, nay, eager, to chronicle his doings and Angy's, whether Abe's
old enemy, rheumatism, won a new victory over him or Angy's second
cousin Ruth came from Riverhead to spend the day or--wonder indeed to
relate!--the old man mended his roof or painted the front fence. No
matter what happened of consequence to Captain and Mrs. Rose, Mr. Editor
had always been zealous to retail the news--before the auction sale of
their household effects marked the death of the old couple, and of Abe
especially, to the social world of Shoreville. What man would care to
read his name between the lines of such a news item as this?

The Old Ladies' Home is making preparations for its annual quilting
bee. Donations of worsted, cotton batting, and linings will be
gratefully received.


Mr. Editor touched his cap to the two old men. He was a keen-faced,
boyish little man with a laugh bigger than himself, but he always wore a
worried air the day before his paper, a weekly, went to press, and he
wore that worried look now. Touching his hand to his fur cap, he