136 THE BEAYEK ETA'EK WATERS, 



"Waal, I g-iiess I dew. but I don't git at it." 



The roof of his little log-barn had tumbled in. 



" What's the matter with 3'our roof, AVardwell ? " 



" Waal, last winter the snow was oneonimon heavy and 

 broke it down." 



" Why don't you repair it ? " was asked, with a sly wink 

 all around. 



"Waal, I guess I'll have to git at it sometime — wlien I 

 git time." 



And so the imiu'rturl)ab]e old man, driven to death in 

 doing notliing, answered all the sly ((uizzing with a like 

 response. Poor old fellow, his wife went craz}- after that, 

 and he removed down to Fenton's, where he will build a 

 hotel if he ever "gits time." He is sueeeeded at Still-water 

 by Dunbar, who is said to be a "s([uare," live man. 



There was a lively little philosophieal discussion among us, 

 who counted ourselves as prett}' busy men at home, whether, 

 on the wiiole, Wardweil's way of taking the worries and 

 cares of life was not, after all that could be said to the 

 contrary, about as wise as the op})osite extreme. However, 

 I think the enforced delay in our departure from his house 

 gave the vastly preponderating majority of our party a bias 

 against Wardweil's mode of doing business. 



Beaver River, above Wardweil's to Alban3^ Lake, is 

 principally still-water. That usually means crookedness. 

 When a river is not in a hurry, it wanders all about the 

 country in a dazed, aimless \va3^ as if it had lost sight of 

 the principle of gravitation, and didn't know enough to run 

 anywhere if there is no hill to run down. Beaver River, 



