Unate enough to be inside was caught

Re open and the firelight danced across the room, filling it with

cheer. It was one of those homelike kitchens where everything is spick and span, and the nickel on the stove shines like silver. A young farmer of perhaps thirty years was sitting with his shoes off and his heels toasting

upon the hearth, while his wife, a pretty, rosy-cheeked country girl, of about his own age, sat in a large splint-bottom chair, sewing. If it needed one more thing to complete the cozy picture of simple, wholesome country life, it was not wanting, for just
at the wife's elbow was

a cradle, which she occasionally jogged with her foot, g iving it just enough motion to keep
it swaying gently. In the cradle slumbered the heir of the household and the link of pure gold that bound these two lives together. Everything in the room breathed contentment. The kettle hummed and sputtered, sending forth its white cloud
of steam, while the kitchen clock ticked off the pleasant moments.
The man was deeply interested in the weekly paper for which he had just driven to the office, but he occasionally
stopped to take a bite out of a large red Baldwin apple tha