Page:The Poor Rich Man, and the Rich Poor Man.djvu/42

34 to support her weak back; Susan disposed her cloak so that Charlotte could draw it around her if the air proved too fresh; and then, taking her willow basket in her hand, the last words were spoken, and they set forth. Uncle Phil was in the happiest of his happy humours. He commended the wagon—"it was just like sitting at home in a rocking-chair—it is kind o' lucky that you are lame, Lottie, or maybe Mrs. Sibley would not have offered to loan us her wagon. I was dreadful 'fraid we should have to go down the North River. I tell you, Lottie, when I crossed over it once, I was a most scared to death—the water went swash, swash—there was nothing but a plank between me and etarnity; and I thought in my heart I should have gone down, and nobody would ever have heard of me again. I wonder folks can be so foolish as to go on water when they can travel on solid land—but I suppose some do!"

"It is pleasanter," said Charlotte, "to travel at this season where you can see the beautiful fruits of the earth, as we do now, on all sides of us." Uncle Phil replied and talked on without disturbing his daughter's quiet and meditation. They travelled slowly, but he was never impatient, and she never wearied, for she was an observer and lover of nature. The earth was clothed with its richest green—was all green, but of infinitely varied teints. The young corn was shooting forth—the winter wheat already waved over many a fertile hillside—the gardens were newly made, and clean, and full of promise—flowers, in this month of their abundance, perfumed the woods, and decked the gardens and courtyards, and where nothing else