226 I GO A-FISHING. 



below, at the junction, in the clear water of the Pemige- 

 wasset, I took two fair-sized fish, shining like silver tinged 

 with peach blossoms. The difference of water makes all 

 the difference of color. 



Rejoining L in the wagon, we drove on, and about 



two o'clock, well down the valley, in a lonesome place 

 among the mountains, we pulled up in front of a small 

 house, and asked if we could get there feed for horse and 

 man. "For horse, yes; for man, go in and ask." We 

 went in. It was an ancient house for these parts, and 

 we found in it only one person — a representative of the 

 ancient days. She was an old woman — that was evident 

 — but cheery and happy in voice and action. 



" Can you give us something to eat, Mrs. T ?" 



"Well, that depends on what you want to have." 



" How about bread and milk?" 



" I can give you plenty of that, and I've got some pork 

 and beans in the oven." 



" Good. We'll have the pork and beans first, and then 

 the bread and milk." 



So the old lady bustled about, and set a round table, 

 and spread a clean cloth and put on it two plates and 

 two bowls, and opened the oven and brought out a great 

 pot of smoking beans and set before us, all the while chat- 

 ting gently, very gently, and pleasantly and cheerily, al- 

 beit her hands were sorely trembling with the feebleness 

 of age. 



" How long have you lived in this valley, Mrs. T ?" 



" More than fifty years. How old do you think I am ?" 



"I can't guess; but I know you have done your share 

 of work, and it is time for you to rest." 



" Yes, my folks think I'm too old to do much work. 

 I'm eighty-seven years old." 



