242 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



"There is none on the place," I remarked, 

 poking into a hole in the ground, where pos- 

 sibly lurked a meadow-mouse. 



"This is where Dr. Abbott lives, is it not?" 

 the stranger then asked in a more natural tone, 

 for I saw he had been putting on airs. 



" It is," I replied. 



" Do you know if he is home ?" he asked. 



" I know that he is not," was my answer. 



The stranger looked much disappointed ; and 

 as he had evidently hired a horse at the livery 

 and was not some nearby chatterbox, I felt 

 moved to tell him all the truth, and so, after a 

 pause, added, " I am the man you wish to see." 



His "Oh !" still rings in my ears. 



We had a pleasant afternoon, and I learned 

 more from him than he gathered from my words, 

 and I do not feel mortified to have been found 

 in a mud-bespattered coat. It is astonishing 

 how constantly some people are "mortified," 

 but I have noted that the process never goes 

 even skin deep, for now these many years, it is 

 not yet to be detected beyond mere words, 

 which I hold as lightly as I value the comfort 

 of old clothes. 



