314 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



and the widow on the British Hollow road. We'll be 

 back to-night or to-morrow, and if this trip pays we'll 

 do her again. Goodby." 



The team I found at the landing was from British 

 Hollow, and the driver gladly went over to the fishing 

 place. I told him to pick out all the fish he wanted, and 

 put them in front so that they couldn't be given away. 

 I had the fish assorted for the different people, and deliv- 

 ered all but the last two lots. We stopped at Jamison's, 

 and at my call a man came out to know what I wanted. 



"I've a lot of fish for John that Bill Patterson has sent 

 up to him; Bill knows John well, and here they are; I 

 s'pose you're John, and you will remember that we sent 

 you up some venison about the New Year." 



The man took the fish and said : "John died early this 

 morning, but his children may use them, and no doubt 

 will be glad of them, for John left nothing; he's been an 

 invalid so long. As a friend of the family, I thank Mr. 



Patterson and you " but I had started the horses on, 



saying to the driver: "Get out of this quick! We can't 

 do any good and let the horses go." 



A few rods brought us to the cabin of the widow. 

 She came to the door in response to a knock, and I 

 stepped in and explained my errand. Something in her 

 manner made me lower my voice, and she began to cry. 

 By the light of a tallow candle I saw that she was a poor, 

 thin, careworn woman, and I fumbled the cap in my 

 hands awkwardly, hardly knowing how to get out of the 

 house without indecent haste. She was prematurely old, 

 and it was doubtful if she had ever been even passably 

 good-looking. Poverty and care were stamped in every 

 line of her face. She might have been thirty, but looked 

 to be twice as old. Her little girl, an only child, was very 

 ill. Would I look at it? 



