Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

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PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY 13 am at, so to speak. What sort of work I has this Mr. Stork for me to do?" "Ye'll have ter find that out fer yerI self !" she replied sharply, eying him with a peculiar coldness. "What Bije Stork has ter do is his own business ; 'ain't none o' mine. Want to go?" "I guess you know what's best for me, better than I do myself," he answered humbly ; "I'll follow your lead." "Come on, then," she ordered, start and rudely cultivated gardens. "What does he do?" "Don't ask too many questions, an' ye won't get so many lies told to yer!" said Emmy sharply. "If Bije has got anything fer you to do, he'll tell yer, straight. If he ain't, he'll tell yer that, too." She hailed a poor, prematurely shriveled wisp of a creature on the steps of the cabin by the name of Crishy, and more as he would an old enemy rather than a new friend. To the surprise of the young city man, Bije Stork was open to offers of unskilled labor, and for a native of that mountain region he was amazingly good-humored. Si Stork, Bije's brother — and husband of the lamentable Crishy — was present at the interview, and Cabot was presented also to Hiram Garrett, grandfather of Emmy, and a near neighbor. Benton Cabot met Bije Stork more as an old enemy than a new friend. ing off ; "but ye'd better not try any o' them hifalutin manners on Bije — he'll kill hisself a-laughin' !" The Storks proved to be near neighbors to the ruined Cabot place, and the man and the girl stopped at the rough, 1 but perfectly habitable cabin after a short walk. "Mr. Stork hasn't much of a farm , here, as far as I can see," Cabot reL marked dubiously, glancing at the small asked for the "menfolks." Crishy seemed too feeble and short of breath to make any formal answer, but she waved a bony claw toward the woodshed, and squeaked something unintelligible. . To the woodshed they went, and there the introductions were achieved with bewildering brevity and lack of form, and Cabot met Bije, who was carrying a mule whip for no apparent reason, "I reckon I c'n help Crishy out some with the chores in the house," said Emmy presently, "so I'll leave you menfolks ter talk.'' "I seen yer dad once, when he was down here fer a spell," Bije said genially, "an' I 'low ye take after 'im some. Ye're a pretty stocky-built young feller. Can ye wrastle?" "I've boxed and wrestled a little," answered Cabot modestly.