Page:The New Arcadia (Tucker).djvu/150



", Brown, old man, who'd have imagined you'd come to this!" It was Tom Lord who spoke. Arrived at the Homestead the night before, he had sauntered out before breakfast to see his friend, the young parson. "I thought to find you saying morning prayers with the milkmaids. Why, that is a pretty clerical get-up of yours!"

"Funny little man!" exclaimed Frank, rising from his stool. "I cannot give you a paw."

"Dripping, as usual, with the milk of human kindness," replied Tom, grinning, as was his wont, from ear to ear, his hands in his pockets, hat on the side of his head.

"We have not come to grief yet, you see," suggested Frank.

"By Jove, no; the place looks stunning. No strikes yet, or lock-outs?"

"Only Good Fortune struck, and Care locked out,"