"Don't git no horse sweat nor wagon grease on 'em." To Aunt Deel wagon grease was the worst enemy of a happy and respectable home.
We hitched our team to the grasshopper spring wagon and set out on our journey.

It was a warm, hazy Indian-summer day in November.

My uncle looked very stiff and sober in his "new" clothes.

Such breathless excitement as that I felt when we were riding down the hills and could see the distant spires of Canton, I have never known since that day.

As we passed "the mill" we saw the Silent Woman looking out of the little window of her room above the blacksmith shop--a low, weather-stained, frame building, hard by the main road, with a narrow hanging stair on the side of it.
"She keeps watch by the winder when she ain't travelin'," said Uncle Peabody.