t, 'He will carry you through'?" said the
enduring Brother Skates; "where is Vesty?"

"She 's a-helpin' Elvine with her baby," came now a prompt and ready
reply: "she said she'd come along for social meetin', after you'd had
Sunday-school, ef she could."

"How is Elvine's baby?" spoke up another voice.

"Wal', he 's poored away dreadful, but Aunt Lowize says he 's turned to
git along all right now, and when Aunt Lowize gives hopes, it 's good
hopes, she 's nachally so spleeny."

"Sure enough. Wal', I've raised six, and nary sick day, 'less it was a
cat-bile or some sech little meachin' thing. I tell you there ain't no
doctor's ructions like nine-tenths milk to two-tenths molasses, and sot
'em on the ground, and let 'em root."

At this simple and domestic throwing off of all social reserve, voices
hitherto silent began to arise, numerous and cheerful.

"Is there any more rusticators come to board this summer?"

"There 's only four by and large," replied a male voice sadly. "These
here liquor laws 't Washin'ton 's put onto nor'eastern Maine are
a-killin' on us for a fash'nable summer resort. When folks finds out
't they've got to go to a doctor and swear 't there 's somethin' the
matter with their insides, in order to git a little tod o' whiskey
aboard, they turns and p'ints her direc' for Bar Harbor and Saratogy
Springs; an' they not only p'ints her, they h'ists double-reef sails
and sends her clippin'!"

"Lunette 's got two," came from the other side of the house.

"What do they pay?"

"Five dollars a week."

"Pshaw! what ructions! Three dollars a week had ought to pay the board
of the fanciest human creetur 't God ever created yit. But some folks
wants the 'arth, and'll take it too, if they can git it."

"Wal', I don' know; they're kind o' meachy, and allas souzlin'
theirselves in hot water; it don't cost nothin', but it gives yer house
a ridick'lous name. Then they told Lunette they wanted their lobsters
br'iled alive. 'Thar,' says she, 'I sot my foot down. I told 'em I'
wa'n't goin' to have no half-cooked lobsters hoppin' around in torments
over my house. I calk'late to put my lobsters in the pot, and put the
cover on and know where they be,' says she."

"I took a rusticator once 't was dietin' for dyspepsy--that's a state
o' the stomick, ye know, kind o' between hay and grass--and if I didn't
get tired o' makin' toast and droppin' eggs!"

"I never could see no fun in bein' a rusticator any