of Alexandria, in
a frame of cucumber seeds; and an interesting document setting forth the
claims of the Dunnell family as old settlers long before the separation
of Maine from Massachusetts,--the fact bein' established by an obituary
notice reading, "In Saco, December 1791, Dorcas, daughter of Abiathar
Dunnell, two months old of Fits unbaptized."

"He may be goin' to marry Eunice, and he may not," observed Almira
Berry; "though what she wants of Reuben Hobson is more 'n I can make
out. I never see a widower straighten up as he has this last year. I
guess he's been lookin' round pretty lively, but couldn't find anybody
that was fool enough to give him any encouragement."

"Mebbe she wants to get married," said Hannah Sophia, in a tone that
spoke volumes. "When Parson Perkins come to this parish, one of his
first calls was on Eunice Emery. He always talked like the book o'
Revelation; so says he, 'have you got your weddin' garment on, Miss
Emery?' says he. 'No,' says she, 'but I ben tryin' to these twenty
years.' She was always full of her jokes, Eunice was!"

"The Emerys was always a humorous family," remarked Diadema, as she
annihilated a fly with a newspaper. "Old Silas Emery was an awful
humorous man. He used to live up on the island; and there come a freshet
one year, and he said he got his sofy 'n' chairs off, anyhow!" That was
just his jokin'. He hadn't a sign of a sofy in the house; 't was his
wife Sophy he meant, she that was Sophy Swett. Then another time, when
I was a little mite of a thin runnin' in 'n' out o' his yard, he caught
holt o' me, and says he, 'You'd better take care, sissy; when I kill you
and two more, thet'll be three children I've killed!' Land! you couldn't
drag me inside that yard for years afterwards. ... There! she's got
a fire in the cook-stove; there's a stream o' smoke comin' out o'
the kitchen chimbley. I'm willin' to bet my new rug she's goin' to be
married tonight!'

"Mebbe she's makin' jell'," suggested Hannah Sophia.

"Jell'!" ejaculated Mrs. Jot scornfully. "Do you s'pose Eunice Emery
would build up a fire in the middle o' the afternoon 'n' go to makin' a
jell', this hot day? Besides, there ain't a currant gone into her house
this week, as I happen to know."

"It's a dretful thick year for fol'age," mumbled grandpa Bascom,
appearing in the door with his vacant smile. "I declare some o' the
maples looks like balls in the air."

"That's the twentieth time he's hed that over s