shining, and Sue, his wife, and young Sue and Jock and Lilian, all
a-quiver with excitement in their Sunday best.

And as they drove away there trotted up behind them Moses and Amandy
Hatch, with their farm team, and all the little Hatches,--Eben and George
and Judy and Liza. As they jogged along they drank in the fragrance of
the dew-washed meadows and the pines, and a great blue heron stood
knee-deep on the far side of Deacon Lysander's old mill-pond, watching
them philosophically as they passed.

It was eight o'clock when they got into the press of Brampton Street, and
there was a hush as they made their way slowly through the throng, and
many a stare at the curious figure in the old-fashioned blue swallowtail
and brass buttons and tall hat, driving the farm wagon. Husbands pointed
him out to their wives, young men to sisters and sweethearts, some
openly, some discreetly. "There goes Jethro Bass," and some were bold
enough to say, "Howdy, Jethro?" Jake Wheeler was to be observed in the
crowd ahead of them, hurried for once out of his Jethro step, actually
running toward the tavern, lest such a one arrive unheralded. Commotion
is perceived on the tavern porch,--Mr. Sherman, the proprietor, bustling
out, Jake Wheeler beside him; a chorus of "How be you, Jethros?" from the
more courageous there,--but the farm team jogs on, leaving a discomfited
gathering, into the side street, up an alley, and into the cool,
ammonia-reeking sheds of lank Jim Sanborn's livery stable. No
obsequiousness from lank Jim, who has the traces slipped and the reins
festooned from the bits almost before Jethro has lifted Cynthia to the
floor. Jethro, walking between Cynthia and her father, led the way,
Ephraim, Lem, and Sue Hallowell following, the children, in unwonted
shoes and stockings, bringing up the rear. The people parted, and
presently they found themselves opposite the new-scrolled band stand
among the trees, where the Harwich band in glittering gold and red had
just been installed. The leader; catching sight of Jethro's party, and of
Ephraim's corded army hat, made a bow, waved his baton, and they struck
up "Marching through Georgia." It was, of course, not dignified to cheer,
but I think that the blood of every man and woman and child ran faster
with the music, and so many of them looked at Cousin Ephraim that he
slipped away behind the line of wagons. So the day began.

"Jest to think of bein' that rich, Will!" exclaimed Amanda Hatc