n
a long time since she had had such a chance of selling milk, eggs and
sundries. It was almost the same as opening a country store. We bought
groceries and everything of her.

We had a glorious time that day. We were just starting out for a
mountain stroll when our stage-driver came along on his down trip.

"Hello!" he called out. "Want to go back this morning?"

"Not a bit of it," I cried. "We wont go back for a couple of weeks.
We've settled here for the present."

The man smiled. He didn't seem to understand it exactly, but he was
evidently glad to see us so well satisfied. If he had had time to stop
and have the matter explained to him, he would probably have been better
satisfied; but as it was, he waved his whip to us and drove on. He was a
good fellow.

We strolled all day, having locked up the house and taken our lunch
with us; and when we came back, it seemed really like coming home.
Mrs. Carson with whom we had left the key, had brought the milk and was
making the fire. This woman was too kind. We determined to try and repay
her in some way. After a splendid supper we went to bed happy.

The next day was a repetition of this one, but the day after it
rained. So we determined to enjoy the old tavern, and we rummaged about
everywhere. I visited the garret again, and we went to the old barn,
with its mows half full of hay, and had rare times climbing about there.
We were delighted that it happened to rain. In a wood-shed, near the
house, I saw a big square board with letters on it. I examined the
board, and found it was a sign,--a hanging sign,--and on it was painted
in letters that were yet quite plain:

"FARMERS'
AND
MECHANICS'
HOTEL."

I called to Euphemia and told her that I had found the old tavern sign.
She came to look at it, and I pulled it out.

"Soldiers and sailors!" she exclaimed; "that's funny."

I looked over on her side of the sign, and, sure enough, there was the
inscription:

"SOLDIERS
AND
SAILORS'
HOUSE."

"They must have bought this comprehensive sign in some town," I said.
"Such a name would never have been chosen for a country tavern like
this. But I wish they hadn't taken it down. The house would look more
like what it ought to be with its sign hanging before it."

"Well, then," said Euphemia, "let's put it up." I agreed instantly to
this proposition, and we went to look for a ladder. We found one in the
wagon-house, a