lash by. "I like this place!" she said, settling herself comfortably in
the flag-bottomed chair. She dropped her eyes to the book in her lap and
read,--

"Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
While the landscape round it measures:
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains, on whose barren breast
The laboring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide."

Then her eyes strayed over the landscape again. "There must be a brook
over there, behind that line of willows!" she thought. "I wonder if
Milton loved willows. There are pines and monumental oaks in 'Il
Penseroso,' but I don't remember any willows. It's a pity we have no
skylarks here! I do want Rose to hear a skylark. Dear Rose! dear Milton!
Oh--I am _so_ comfortable!"

And Hildegarde was asleep.

CHAPTER XVII.

OLD MR. COLT.

Supper was over. The girls had laughingly resisted their hostess's
appeal, "Just one more fritter, with another on each side to keep it
warm,--though I don't know as they _are_ fit to eat!" and on her
positive refusal to let them help wash the dishes, had retired to the
back doorstep, from which they could watch the sunset. Here they were
joined by Bubble, who had found a lodging for himself, Dr. Abernethy,
and the pony, in the family of Abner Colt, the mail-carrier. He took his
place on the doorstep with the air of one who has fairly earned his
repose.

"Well, Bubble," said Hildegarde, "tell us how you have fared."

"Oh, very well!" answered the boy,--"very well, Miss Hilda! They're a
funny set over there at Mr. Colt's, but they seem very kind, and they
have given me a nice little room in the stable-loft, so 't I can see to
the Doctor any minute."

"How is the dear beast?" asked Rose. "I thought he went a little lame,
after he got that stone in his foot."

"I have bathed the foot," said Bubble, "and it'll be all right
to-morrow. Old Mr. Colt wanted to give me three different kinds of
liniment to rub on it, but hot water is all it needs. He's a queer old
fellow, old Mr. Colt!" he added meditatively. "Seems to live on medicine
chiefly."

"What do you mean?" asked the girls.

"Why," said Bubble, "he came in to supper--I hadn't seen him
before--with a big bottle under his arm, and a box of pills in his hand.
He came shuffling in in his stocking-feet, and when he saw me