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, and carried it out to the
sign-post in the front of the house. It was raining, gently, during
these performances, but we had on our old clothes, and were so much
interested in our work that we did not care for a little rain. I carried
the sign to the post, and then, at the imminent risk of breaking my
neck, I hung it on its appropriate hooks on the transverse beam of the
sign-post. Now our tavern was really wh