oxen. One cart ran into the
ditch and upset. Alfred Batchelder's prize steers ran away and caught
the hook of a chain which they were dragging, into the wheel of a wagon
belonging to the Sylvesters, and upset it. There was a wreck of all the
jelly and other prepared fruits and preserves in it, Mrs. Sylvester
being somewhat noted for her skill in these particulars. It was said
that the greatly grieved woman shed bitter tears, then and there.

Addison was driving our wagon home and had Gram and all the girls in it.
He was pretty well down toward the foot of the hill and hearing the
outcry farther up, jumped out and seized old Sol by the head, to keep
him from bolting. In consequence of this prudent manoeuver our folks
came through the tumult uninjured and without damage. One pumpkin came
rolling directly down toward Addison; but by a dextrous kick he turned
it aside.

Halstead and I, who were driving oxen and carts, did not fare quite as
well; for the team in advance, belonging to the Edwardses, backed down
into us, and our cattle, running out into the ditch, spilled a part of
our loads, including our exhibits of apples and vegetables. Our case,
however, was not as bad as many of our neighbors, some of whom met with
considerable loss. We were occupied an hour or two gathering up the
spilled loads.

So much for a youngster with a cigar in his mouth and a glass or two of
beer inside him. If an indignant community could have laid hands on
Roscoe Batchelder that night, he would have fared badly.

Addison and Halse had done a tolerable business with their cake, coffee
and fruit stand. They cleared about seven dollars each above expenses;
and Theodora and Ellen received four dollars apiece for their services
as cooks. I was about the only one in the family who had not received
something in the way of premiums and profits. Both my ventures, in the
"slow race" and the "scrub race," had collapsed. The Old Squire laughed
at me when he heard of my efforts to capture prizes, and advised me to
try more creditable schemes in future.

CHAPTER XXV

THE WILD ROSE SWEETING

Still another memory goes with that first Cattle Show in Maine--the Wild
Rose Sweeting.

Afterwards I came to know that delicious apple well; but it was at the
Fair that I first made its acquaintance. Willis Murch was peddling them,
and made the place resound, not unmusically, with cries of "Wild Rose
Sweetings! Straight from the Garden of Eden! The be