Bascom modestly, "I ain't one to
leave weak spots in it. If I guess at all, I go all over the ground
'n' stop when I git through. Now, sisters or no sisters, Maryabby Emery
ain't spoke to Eunice sence she moved to Salem. But if Eunice has ben
bringin' pa'cels home, Maryabby must 'a' paid for what was in 'em; and
if she's ben bakin' fruit cake this hot day, why Maryabby used to be
so font o' fruit cake her folks were afraid she'd have fits 'n' die.
I shall be watchin' here as usual to-morrow morning', 'n' if Maryabby
don't drive int' Eunice's yard before noon I won't brag any more for a
year to come."

Hannah Sophia gazed at old Mrs. Bascom with unstinted admiration. "You
do beat all," she said; "and I wish I could stay all night 'n' see how
it turns out, but Almiry is just comin' over the bridge, 'n' I must
start 'n' meet her. Good-by. I'm glad to see you so smart; you always
look slim, but I guess you'll tough it out's long 's the rest of us. I
see your log was all right, last time I was down side o' the river."

"They say it 's jest goin' to break in two in the middle, and fall into
the river," cheerfully responded Lucinda. "They say it's just hanging'
on by a thread. Well, that's what they 've ben sayin' about me these
ten years, 'n' here I be still hanging! It don't make no odds, I guess,
whether it's a thread or a rope you 're hangin' by, so long as you
hang."

* * *

The next morning, little Mote Hobson, who had stayed all night with his
uncle in Union, was walking home by the side of the river. He strolled
along, the happy, tousle-headed, barefooted youngster, eyes one moment
on the trees in the hope of squirrels and birds'-nests, the next on the
ground in search of the first blueberries. As he stooped to pick up a
bit of shining quartz to add to the collection in his ragged trousers'
pockets he glanced across the river, and at that very instant Lucinda's
log broke gently in twain, rolled down the bank, crumbling as it went,
and, dropping in like a tired child, was carried peacefully along on the
river's breast.

Mote walked more quickly after that. It was quite a feather in his cap
to see, with his own eyes, the old landmark slip from its accustomed
place and float down the stream. The other boys would miss it and say,
"It's gone!" He would say, "I saw it go!"

Grandpa Bascom was standing at the top of the hill. His white locks were
uncovered, and he was in his shirt-sleeves. Baby Jot, as usual, held