Don't you believe it-- it costs money to run one of those machines.

I'll bet he's a dandy from 'way back--stopping at your house--bridal chamber--that's right--you want to kill the fatted calf for them fellers--say--" But further comments were cut short as I came out, jumped in, and we drove back to a good supper by candle-light.
The stars were shining over head, the air was clear and crisp, down in the valley of Lebanon the mist was falling, and it was cool that night.

Lulled by the monotonous song of the tree-toad and the deep bass croaking of frogs by the distant stream, we fell asleep.
There was nothing to do next day.

The new steering-head could not possibly arrive until the morning following.

As the farm was worked by a tenant, our host had little to do, and proposed that we drive to the Shaker village a few miles beyond.
The visit is well worth making, and we should have missed it entirely if the automobile had not broken down, for the new State road over the mountain does not go through the village, but back of it.