which is within the bounds of possibility, each bore with the
other (not quite without friction), as old-fashioned husbands and

wives once did, before the easy way out of the difficulty was
discovered, or at least before it was popularized.

The faithful old parson had died after thirty years' preaching,
and perhaps the newer methods had begun to creep in, for it

seemed impossible to suit the two communities most interested in
the choice.

The Rev. Mr. Davis, for example, was a spirited preacher, but
persisted in keeping two horses in the parsonage stable, and in

exchanging them whenever he could get faster ones. As a parochial
visitor he was incomparable, dashing from house to house with

such speed that he could cover the parish in a single afternoon.
This sporting tendency, which would never have been remarked in a

British parson, was frowned upon in a New England village, and
Deacon Milliken told Mr. Davis, when giving him what he alluded

to as his "walking papers," that they didn't want the Edgewood
church run by hoss power!

The next candidate pleased Edgewood, where morning preaching was
held, but the other parish, which had afternoon service, declined

to accept him because he wore a wig--an ill-matched, crookedly
applied wig.

Number three was eloquent but given to gesticulation, and Mrs.
Jere Burbank, the president of the Dorcas Society, who sat in a

front pew, said she couldn't bear to see a preacher scramble
round the pulpit hot Sundays.

Number four, a genial, handsome man, gifted in prayer, was found
to be a Democrat. The congregation was overwhelmingly Republican

in its politics, and perceived something ludicrous, if not
positively blasphemous, in a Democrat preaching the gospel.

("Ananias and Beelzebub'll be candidatin' here, first thing we
know!" exclaimed the outraged Republican nominee for district

attorney.)
Number five had a feeble-minded child, which the hiring committee

prophesied, would always be standing in the parsonage front yard,
making talk for the other denominations.

Number six was the Rev. Judson Baxter, the present incumbent; and
he was voted to be as near perfection as a minister can be in

this finite world. His young wife had a small income of her own,
a distinct and unusualadvantage, and the subscription committee

hoped that they might not be eternally driving over the country
to get somebody's fifty cents that had been over-due for eight

months, but might take their onerous duties a little more easily.
"It does seem as if our ministers were the poorest lot!"

complained Mrs. Robinson. "If their salary is two months
behindhand they begin to be nervous! Seems as though they might

lay up a little before they come here, and not live from hand to
mouth so! The Baxters seem quite different, and I only hope they

won't get wasteful and run into debt. They say she keeps the
parlor blinds open bout half the time, and the room is lit up so

often evenin's that the neighbors think her and Mr. Baxter must
set in there. It don't seem hardly as if it could be so, but Mrs.

Buzzell says tis, and she says we might as well say good-by to
the parlorcarpet, which is church property, for the Baxters are

living all over it!"
This criticism was the only discordant note in the chorus of

praise, and the people gradually grew accustomed to the open
blinds and the overused parlorcarpet, which was just completing

its twenty-fifth year of honest service.
Mrs. Baxter communicated her patriotic idea of a new flag to the

Dorcas Society, proposing that the women should cut and make it
themselves.

"It may not be quite as good as those manufactured in the large
cities," she said, "but we shall be proud to see our home-made

flag flying in the breeze, and it will mean all the more to the
young voters growing up, to remember that their mothers made it

with their own hands."
"How would it do to let some of the girls help?" modestly asked

Miss Dearborn, the Riverboro teacher. "We might choose the best
sewers and let them put in at least a few stitches, so that they

can feel they have a share in it."
"Just the thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter. "We can cut the stripes

and sew them together, and after we have basted on the white
stars the girls can apply them to the blue ground. We must have

it ready for the campaign rally, and we couldn't christen it at a
better time than in this presidential year."

II
In this way the great enterprise was started, and day by day the

preparations went forward in the two villages.
The boys, as future voters and fighters, demanded an active share

in the proceedings, and were organized by Squire Bean into a fife
and drum corps, so that by day and night martial but most

inharmonious music woke the echoes, and deafened mothers felt
their patriotism oozing out at the soles of their shoes.

Dick Carter was made captain, for his grandfather had a gold
medal given him by Queen Victoria for rescuing three hundred and

twenty-six passengers from a sinking British vessel. Riverboro
thought it high time to pay some gracefultribute to Great

Britain in return for her handsome conduct to Captain Nahum
Carter, and human imagination could contrive nothing more

impressive than a vicarious share in the flag raising.
Living Perkins tried to be happy in the ranks, for he was offered

no official position, principally, Mrs. Smellie observed, because
"his father's war record wa'nt clean." "Oh, yes! Jim Perkins went

to the war," she continued. "He hid out behind the hencoop when
they was draftin', but they found him and took him along. He got

into one battle, too, somehow or nother, but he run away from it.
He was allers cautious, Jim was; if he ever see trouble of any

kind comin' towards him, he was out o' sight fore it got a chance
to light. He said eight dollars a month, without bounty, wouldn't

pay HIM to stop bullets for. He wouldn't fight a skeeter, Jim
wouldn't, but land! we ain't to war all the time, and he's a good

neighbor and a good blacksmith."
Miss Dearborn was to be Columbia and the older girls of the two

schools were to be the States. Such trade in muslins and red,
white, and blue ribbons had never been known since "Watson kep'

store," and the number of brief white petticoats hanging out to
bleach would have caused the passing stranger to imagine

Riverboro a continual dancing school.
Juvenile virtue, both male and female, reached an almost

impossible height, for parents had only to lift a finger and say,
"you shan't go to the flag raising!" and the refractory spirit at

once armed itself for new struggles toward the perfect life.
Mr. Jeremiah Cobb had consented to impersonate Uncle Sam, and was

to drive Columbia and the States to the "raising" on the top of
his own stage. Meantime the boys were drilling, the ladies were

cutting and basting and stitching, and the girls were sewing on
stars; for the starry part of the spangled banner was to remain

with each of them in turn until she had performed her share of
the work.

It was felt by one and all a fine and splendid service indeed to
help in the making of the flag, and if Rebecca was proud to be of

the chosen ones, so was her Aunt Jane Sawyer, who had taught her
all her delicate stitches.

On a long-looked-for afternoon in August the minister's wife
drove up to the brick house door, and handed out the great piece

of bunting to Rebecca, who received it in her arms with as much
solemnity as if it had been a child awaiting baptismal rites.

"I'm so glad!" she sighed happily. "I thought it would never come
my turn!"

"You should have had it a week ago, but Huldah Meserve upset the
ink bottle over her star, and we had to baste on another one. You