t home," and I raised my eyes to
gain a view of the homestead, the faded dingy appearance of the house
and its surroundings struck me as unpleasant. It was a large
old-fashioned square farm-house, which had once boasted a coat of red
paint, but the winds and rains of many years had sadly marred its
beauty, so much so that, but for the patches of dull red still visible
beneath the eaves and round the windows, one would have been loth to
believe the old house had all been of a deep red. The high road lay
between the house and the long stretch of meadow-land which separated it
from the river. The picket fence in front of the dwelling was in rather
a dilapidated condition, and the gate, being minus a hinge, hung awry.
Many tall sunflowers stood in the narrow strip of ground between the
front fence and the house, and they were about all I could see in the
way of ornament. But with this rather shabby look there was after all
something inviting and attractive about the place, something that
suggested the idea of quiet and repose and cozy comfort. Reader, have
you never seen a home like Uncle Nathan's? I have seen many of them.
Little did I then think how, in course of time, I should learn to love
that old house and its inmates. A little before we reached home Uncle
Nathan addressed me in a confidential voice, saying:

"Aunt Lucinder (as every body calls her) is my sister, who keeps house
for me. She's kinder partickler and fussy, and you must not mind if she
does snap you up kinder short sometimes, 'tis her way you know; but
never you fear, for with all her sharp speeches she has a kind heart,
and her bark is a deal worse than her bite; and if you once gain her
over for a friend, you'll have a firm one, depend upon that. Then
there's mother, she lives with us, too, she's an old, old woman Walter,
and we have all try to please her in everything, and of course you'll
always be quiet and respectful-like to her. I have often before spoke
of hiring a boy to do chores about the house, but Lucinder always said,
'all boys were good for was to make a noise and litter up the house,'
but I guess you'll get along famously with her; she's an old maid you
know, that is she never was married, and folks say that old maids are
always kinder cross and crusty." Seeing my sober face as we drew nigh
the house my uncle laughed, as he said in an encouraging tone, "Don't
you be a grain scared, Walter, neither of them old wimmen will hurt you.
I shoul