A WEEK ON WALDEN'S RIDGE. 147 



" From Washington ? " 



" No, from Boston." 



" Oh ! from Boston ! Massachusetts ! 

 Oh-h-h ! " 



She would go part way with me, she said, 

 lest I should miss the path. Perhaps she 

 wished to show some special hospitality to 

 a man from Massachusetts ; or possibly she 

 thought I must be more in danger of getting 

 bewildered, being so far from home. But 

 I could not think of troubling her. Was 

 there a spring near by, where I could drink? 



"I have water in the house," she an- 

 swered. 



" But is n't there a creek down in the val- 

 ley ahead?" 



Oh yes, there was a creek ; but had I any- 

 thing to drink out of ? I thanked her. Yes, 

 I had a cup. " My husband will be at home 

 by the time you come back," she said, as I 

 started on, and I promised to call. 



The scene at the brook, halfway between 

 the German's house and the top, would of 

 itself have paid me for my morning's jaunt. 

 I stood on a boulder in mid-current, in the 

 shadow of overhanging trees, and drank it 

 in. Such rhododendrons and laurel, now in 



