s,
they made it a fashionable summer resort, the most commodious and
attractive in the whole country; with no limit to the accommodations
for those of a gregarious turn of mind, liking the advantages of select
society combined with country air. In the autumn it held its own; for
when the other elms changed their green to duller tints, the nooning
tree put on a gown of yellow, and stood out against the far background
of sombre pine woods a brilliant mass of gold and brown. In winter, when
there was no longer dun of upturned sod, nor waving daisy gardens, nor
ruddy autumn grasses, it rose above the dazzling snow crust, lifting
its bare, shapely branches in sober elegance and dignity, and seeming to
say, "Do not pity me; I have been, and, please God, I shall be!"

Whenever the weather was sufficiently mild, it was used as a "nooning"
tree by all the men at work in the surrounding fields; but it was in
haying time that it became the favorite lunching and "bangeing" place
for Squire Bean's hands and those of Miss Vilda Cummins, who owned the
adjoining farm. The men congregated under the spreading branches
at twelve o' the clock, and spent the noon hour there, eating and
"swapping" stories, as they were doing to-day.

Each had a tin pail, and each consumed a quantity of "flour food" that
kept the housewives busy at the cook stove from morning till night. A
glance at Pitt Packard's luncheon, for instance, might suffice as
an illustration, for, as Jabe Slocum said, "Pitt took after both his
parents; one et a good deal, 'n' the other a good while." His pail
contained four doughnuts, a quarter section of pie, six buttermilk
biscuits, six ginger cookies, a baked cup custard, and a quart of cold
coffee. This quantity was a trifle unusual, but every man in the group
was lined throughout with pie, cemented with buttermilk bread, and
riveted with doughnuts.

Jabe Slocum and Brad Gibson lay extended slouchingly, their cowhide
boots turned up to the sky; Dave Milliken, Steve Webster, and the others
leaned back against the tree-trunk, smoking clay pipes, or hugging their
knees and chewing blades of grass reflectively.

One man sat apart from the rest, gloomily puffing rings of smoke into
the air. After a while he lay down in the grass with his head buried
in his hat, sleeping to all appearances, while the others talked and
laughed; for he had no stories, though he put in an absent-minded word
or two when he was directly addressed. Th