s and witches, and used to tell us
spook stories till our hair would stand on end.

He was an expert trout fisherman. Early in the morning I would dig
worms for bait, and we would go fishing over in West Settlement, or in
Montgomery Hollow. I went fishing with him when he was past eighty.
He would steal along the streams and "snake" out the trout, walking as
briskly as I do now. From him I get my dreamy, lazy, shirking ways.

In 1848 he and Grandmother came to live near us. He had a severe fit of
illness that year. I remember we caught a fat coon for him. He was
fond of game. I was there one morning when they entertained a colored
minister overnight, probably a fugitive slave. He prayed--how lustily he
prayed!

I have heard Grandfather tell how, when he was a boy in Connecticut, he
once put his hand in a bluebird's nest and felt, as he said, "something
comical"; he drew out his hand, which was followed by the head and neck
of a black snake; he took to his heels, and the black snake after him.
(I rather think that's a myth.) He said his uncle, who was ploughing,
came after the black snake with a whip, and the snake slunk away. He
thought he remembered that. It may be a black snake might pursue one,
but I doubt it.

(Mr. Burroughs's ingrained tendency to question reports of improbable
things in nature shows even in these reminiscences of his grandfather.
His instinct for the truth is always on the qui vive.--C. B.)

Grandmother Kelly lived to be past eighty. She was a big woman--thrifty
and domestic--big enough to take "Granther" up in her arms and walk
off with him. She did more to bring up her family than he did; was a
practical housewife, and prolific. She had ten children and made every
one of them toe the mark. I don't know whether she ever took "Granther"
across her knee or not, but he probably deserved it. She was quite
uneducated. Her maiden name was Lavinia Minot. I don't know where her
people came from, or whether she had any brothers and sisters. They
lived in Red Kill mostly, in the eastern part of the town of Roxbury,
and also over on the edge of Greene County. I remember, when Grandfather
used to tell stories of cruelty in the army, and of the hardships of the
soldiers, she would wriggle and get very angry. All her children were
large. They were as follows: Sukie, Ezekiel, Charles, Martin, Edmund,
William, Thomas, Hannah, Abby, and Amy (my mother). Aunt Sukie was a
short, chubby woman, always laughi