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"Now in anythin' but an ox cart, you couldn't ha' had it."
"No, not so well, certainly."
"I couldn't ha' had it, anyway, withouten we'd come so softly. Ideclare, I believe them critters stepped soft o' purpose. It's better'na book, to hear that girl talk, now, ain't it?"
"Much better than many books."
"She's got a lot o' 'em inside her head. That beats me! She allays wassmart, Lois was; but I'd no idee she was so full o' book larnin'. Booksis a great thing!" And he heaved a sigh.
"Do you have time to read much yourself, sir?"
"Depends on the book," he said, with a bit of a laugh. "Accordin' tothat, I get much or little. No; in these here summer days a man can'tdo much at books; the evenin's short, you see, and the days is long; and the days is full o' work. The winter's the time for readin'. I gothold o' a book last winter that was wuth a great deal o' time, and gotit. I never liked a book better. That was Rollin's 'Ancient History.'"
"Ah!" said Mrs. Barclay. "So you enjoyed that?"
"Ever read it?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you enjoy it?"
"I believe I like Modern history better."
"I've read some o' that too," said he meditatively. "It ain't sodifferent. 'Seems to me, folks is allays pretty much alike; only wecall things by different names. Alexander the Great, now, – he warn'tmuch different from Napoleon Buonaparte."
"Wasn't he a better man?" inquired Mr. Lenox, putting his head out atthe door.
"Wall, I don' know; it's difficult, you know, to judge of folk'sinsides; but I don't make much count of a man that drinks himself todeath at thirty."
"Haven't you any drinking in Shampuashuh?"
"Wall, there ain't much; and what there is, is done in the dark, like.
You won't find no rum-shops open."
"Indeed! How long has the town been so distinguished?"
"I guess it's five year. I know it is; for it was just afore we putin our last President. Then we voted liquor shouldn't be president inShampuashuh."
"Do you get along any better for it?"
"Wall" – slowly – "I should say we did. There ain't no quarrellin', norfightin', nor anybody took up for the jail, nor no one livin' in thepoorhouse – 'thout it's some tramp on his way to some place where thereis liquor. An' he don't want to stay."
"What are those two figures yonder among the grass?" Mrs. Lenox nowasked; she also having come out of the house in search of objects ofinterest, the interior offering none.
"Them?" said Mr. Sears. "Them's Lois and her aunt. Their baskets isgettin' heavy, too. I'll make the fire for ye, Miss Charity," he cried, lifting his voice; and therewith disappeared.
"What are they doing?" Mrs. Lenox asked, in a lower tone.
"Digging clams," Mrs. Barclay informed her.
"Digging clams! How do they dig them?"
"With a hoe, I believe."
"I ought to go and offer my services," said the gentleman, rising.
"Do not think of it," said Mrs. Barclay. "You could not go withoutplunging into wet, soft mud; the clams are found only there, I believe."
"How do they go?"
"Barefoot-dressed for it."
"_Un_dressed for it," said Mrs. Lenox. "Barefoot in the mud! Could youhave conceived it!"
"They say the mud is warm," Mrs. Barclay returned, keeping back a smile.
"But how horrid!"
"I am told it is very good sport. The clams are shy, and endeavour totake flight when they hear the strokes of the hoe; so that it comes toa trial of speed between the pursuer and the pursued; which is quiteexciting."
"I should think, if I could see a clam, I could pick it up," Mrs. Lenoxsaid scornfully.
"Yes; you cannot see them."
"Do you mean, they run away under ground?"
"So I am told."
"How can they? they have no feet."
Mrs. Barclay could not help laughing now, and confessed her ignoranceof the natural powers of the clam family.
"Where is that old man gone to make his fire? didn't he say he wasgoing to make a fire?"
"Yes; in the cooking-house."
"Where is that?" And Mrs. Lenox came down the steps and went toexplore. A few yards from the bathing-house, just within the enclosurefence, she found a small building, hardly two yards square, butthoroughly built and possessing a chimney. The door stood open; withinwas a cooking-stove, in which fire was roaring; a neat pile of billetsof wood for firing, a tea-kettle, a large iron pot, and several otherkitchen utensils.
"What is this for?" inquired Mrs. Lenox, looking curiously in.
"Wall, I guess we're goin' to hev supper by and by; ef the world don'tcome to an end sooner than I expect, we will, sure. I'm a gettin'ready."
"And is this place built and arranged just for the sake of havingsupper, as you call it, down here once in a while?"
"Couldn't be no better arrangement," said Mr. Sears. "This stove drawsfirst-rate."
"But this is a great deal of trouble. I should think they would taketheir clams home and have them there."
"No, not so well, certainly."
"I couldn't ha' had it, anyway, withouten we'd come so softly. Ideclare, I believe them critters stepped soft o' purpose. It's better'na book, to hear that girl talk, now, ain't it?"
"Much better than many books."
"She's got a lot o' 'em inside her head. That beats me! She allays wassmart, Lois was; but I'd no idee she was so full o' book larnin'. Booksis a great thing!" And he heaved a sigh.
"Do you have time to read much yourself, sir?"
"Depends on the book," he said, with a bit of a laugh. "Accordin' tothat, I get much or little. No; in these here summer days a man can'tdo much at books; the evenin's short, you see, and the days is long; and the days is full o' work. The winter's the time for readin'. I gothold o' a book last winter that was wuth a great deal o' time, and gotit. I never liked a book better. That was Rollin's 'Ancient History.'"
"Ah!" said Mrs. Barclay. "So you enjoyed that?"
"Ever read it?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you enjoy it?"
"I believe I like Modern history better."
"I've read some o' that too," said he meditatively. "It ain't sodifferent. 'Seems to me, folks is allays pretty much alike; only wecall things by different names. Alexander the Great, now, – he warn'tmuch different from Napoleon Buonaparte."
"Wasn't he a better man?" inquired Mr. Lenox, putting his head out atthe door.
"Wall, I don' know; it's difficult, you know, to judge of folk'sinsides; but I don't make much count of a man that drinks himself todeath at thirty."
"Haven't you any drinking in Shampuashuh?"
"Wall, there ain't much; and what there is, is done in the dark, like.
You won't find no rum-shops open."
"Indeed! How long has the town been so distinguished?"
"I guess it's five year. I know it is; for it was just afore we putin our last President. Then we voted liquor shouldn't be president inShampuashuh."
"Do you get along any better for it?"
"Wall" – slowly – "I should say we did. There ain't no quarrellin', norfightin', nor anybody took up for the jail, nor no one livin' in thepoorhouse – 'thout it's some tramp on his way to some place where thereis liquor. An' he don't want to stay."
"What are those two figures yonder among the grass?" Mrs. Lenox nowasked; she also having come out of the house in search of objects ofinterest, the interior offering none.
"Them?" said Mr. Sears. "Them's Lois and her aunt. Their baskets isgettin' heavy, too. I'll make the fire for ye, Miss Charity," he cried, lifting his voice; and therewith disappeared.
"What are they doing?" Mrs. Lenox asked, in a lower tone.
"Digging clams," Mrs. Barclay informed her.
"Digging clams! How do they dig them?"
"With a hoe, I believe."
"I ought to go and offer my services," said the gentleman, rising.
"Do not think of it," said Mrs. Barclay. "You could not go withoutplunging into wet, soft mud; the clams are found only there, I believe."
"How do they go?"
"Barefoot-dressed for it."
"_Un_dressed for it," said Mrs. Lenox. "Barefoot in the mud! Could youhave conceived it!"
"They say the mud is warm," Mrs. Barclay returned, keeping back a smile.
"But how horrid!"
"I am told it is very good sport. The clams are shy, and endeavour totake flight when they hear the strokes of the hoe; so that it comes toa trial of speed between the pursuer and the pursued; which is quiteexciting."
"I should think, if I could see a clam, I could pick it up," Mrs. Lenoxsaid scornfully.
"Yes; you cannot see them."
"Do you mean, they run away under ground?"
"So I am told."
"How can they? they have no feet."
Mrs. Barclay could not help laughing now, and confessed her ignoranceof the natural powers of the clam family.
"Where is that old man gone to make his fire? didn't he say he wasgoing to make a fire?"
"Yes; in the cooking-house."
"Where is that?" And Mrs. Lenox came down the steps and went toexplore. A few yards from the bathing-house, just within the enclosurefence, she found a small building, hardly two yards square, butthoroughly built and possessing a chimney. The door stood open; withinwas a cooking-stove, in which fire was roaring; a neat pile of billetsof wood for firing, a tea-kettle, a large iron pot, and several otherkitchen utensils.
"What is this for?" inquired Mrs. Lenox, looking curiously in.
"Wall, I guess we're goin' to hev supper by and by; ef the world don'tcome to an end sooner than I expect, we will, sure. I'm a gettin'ready."
"And is this place built and arranged just for the sake of havingsupper, as you call it, down here once in a while?"
"Couldn't be no better arrangement," said Mr. Sears. "This stove drawsfirst-rate."
"But this is a great deal of trouble. I should think they would taketheir clams home and have them there."
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