1 68 IN SPRING. 



drunken with a love of old - time cottage 

 days. 



The old lady's gossip of the days gone by adds 

 to the very sparkle of her beer ; yet her whole 

 life for more than half a century seems centered 

 upon her one adventure, the coming and going of 

 her children passing as too prosaic to mention. 

 Not so that one great fright and its results. 

 The now almost forgotten Camden and Amboy 

 Railroad was then in operation; but though 

 scarcely more than a mile distant, it was as 

 nothing to her. She knew neither what nor 

 where it was. But where the best whortleberries 

 grew in the back swamp, that was knowledge 

 worth possessing. Although her cousin Abijah 

 had killed a bear during the winter, she did not 

 think of it then, and started for berries where 

 few men would care to follow. She knew every 

 crooked path in the sprout-lands, and could find 

 her way through them in the dark, she boasted. 

 And so, with a light heart, she gathered berries. 

 But at last an ominous screeching fell upon her 

 ears. She stopped her work to listen. Louder 

 and more angry, ay, and nearer, too, was that 

 portentous scream. " Could it be another bear ? " 

 she thought, and at once turned her face home- 

 ward. The big basket was not quite full, and 

 there were such loads of fruit within easy reach ! 

 It was tantalizing ; but all doubt vanished with 



