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"Tut, tut," cried Maddoc, "what matter such trifles as these at this time? And now," turning to their host, "if you will honor us?" It was Sunday. Anson, with eyes close-shut and suds dripping from his freckled nose, was having his weekly ear and neck cleansing, his mother's strong hands applying the coarse wash-cloth. Billy stood by, anticipating his turn, his eyes straying occasionally to the long "muzzle-loader" hanging on the deer-prong rack. Tomorrow the duck-season opened and he was wondering how he was going to contrive to sneak the old gun down and give it a thorough cleaning. Suddenly he became aware that operations in the vicinity of the wash-basin had become suspended. He glanced across to find his mother's gaze fixed sternly upon him. Anson was looking mightily pleased. "How do you know that?" asked the mother, eying him sharply..
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Tonight, as Caleb sat outside on the bench waiting for the first evening customers to arrive, he reviewed the pleasant years of his life in this restful spot and was satisfied. Suddenly he sat erect. From the edge of a walnut grove on the far side of the road came a low warble, sweet as the song of a wild bird, but with a minor note of sadness in its lilting. He looked steadily at his son whose eyes were fixed upon the carriage which the Actons were at that moment entering. "She's out on the bay," answered the father and lapsed again into brooding silence. "Where is the Aurora going?" enquired Lucy..
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