Then she followed the
path to the door, as usual near the rear of the cottage, but here
prettily shaded by a neat latticed porch, over which some vines, now
bare of leaves, clambered, while a little bay-window close by was all
abloom with plants inside. Between the plants she caught a glimpse of a
smiling face, which presently appeared at the door.
"Good-morning, Sara. Come in a minute, child. I haven't seen you this
fortnight!"
Sara smiled up into the kind elderly face, around which a muslin cap was
primly tied.
"No, Miss Prue, I've been very busy getting the nets and father's
clothes ready; he's been expecting the start every day."
"Yes, I suppose so. What a fine morning for it! I've been watching them
from the skylight through my binocle; 'twas a brave sight!"
"Yes, beautiful, only that father is getting old for such hardships. I
dread his going more and more every time."
"Ah! but where will you find a stouter heart, or a steadier hand and
eye, than belong to good old Reuben Olmstead? He can put many of the
young men to shame, thanks to his temperate life! Your father is one of
the best types of his class, Sara,--brave, honest, and true,--did you
know it?"
As she spoke, she led the girl from the tiny entry, with three of its
corners cut off by doors, into a pleasant room lighted by the aforesaid
bay window.
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