AUTUMN 61 



surely was, and from all we saw of her she 

 might have been accounted a very useful 

 farm-hand ; but perhaps, as farmers some- 

 tunes say of unprofitable cattle, she would 

 soon have " eaten her head off" in the poul- 

 try yard. She was not fearless, — like a 

 woodchuck that once walked up to me and 

 smelled of my boot, as I stood still in the 

 road near the Crawford House, — but simply 

 off her guard ; and our finding her in such 

 a mood was simply a bit of good luck. 

 Some day, possibly, we shall catch a weasel 

 asleep. 



In a vacation season, like our annual fort- 

 night in New Hampshire, there is no pre- 

 dicting which jaunt, if any, will turn out 

 superior to all the rest. It may be a longer 

 and comparatively newer one (although in 

 Franconia we find few new ones now, partly 

 because we no longer seek them — the old is 

 better, we are apt to say when any innovation 

 is suggested) ; or, thanks to something in 

 the day or something in the mood, it may 

 be one of the shortest and most familiar. 

 And when it is over, there may be a sweet- 

 ness in the memory, but little to talk about ; 



