"
Hannah Sophia gazed at old Mrs. Bascom with unstinted admiration.
"You do beat all," she said; "and I wish I could stay all night 'n' see
how it turns out, but Almiry is just comin' over the bridge, 'n' I must
start 'n' meet her. Good-by. I'm glad to see you so smart; you always
look slim, but I guess you'll tough it out's long 's the rest of us.
I see your log was all right, last time I was down side o' the river."
"They say it 's jest goin' to break in two in the middle,
and fall into the river," cheerfully responded Lucinda.
"They say it's just hanging' on by a thread. Well, that's what
they 've ben sayin' about me these ten years, 'n' here I be
still hanging! It don't make no odds, I guess, whether it's
a thread or a rope you 're hangin' by, so long as you hang."
* * *
The next morning, little Mote Hobson, who had stayed all night
with his uncle in Union, was walking home by the side of the river.
He strolled along, the happy, tousle-headed, barefooted youngster,
eyes one moment on the trees in the hope of squirrels and birds'-nests,
the next on the ground in search of the first blueberries.
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