and met Jim, down by the spring, and we ate the cake. Some way a-nother
it didn't taste so good as we expected. There was an awful outscreech
when she found it out. Jim was a mighty smart fellar. He married a girl
from Cranberry Medder, and they went down East. I have heard that they
were doing fust-rate."

After riding for some time through low, woody places, where the grass
grew on each side of the horse's track, we came to the main traveled
road. Thistles were blooming and going to seed, all on one stock.
Flax-birds were flying among them filling the air with their sweet
notes. Soon we turned into a lane, and came to the pasture-bars, Mr.
Wetherell said: "You stay here with Darby, and I will drive the steers
up to the bars, and salt them."

I got out of the wagon, and unchecked Darby's head, and led him up to a
plot of white clover, to get a lunch. Nature seemed to have made an
uneven distribution of foretop and fetlock in Darby's case, his foretop
was so scanty and his fetlocks so heavy. A fringe of long hairs stood
out on his forelegs from his body to his feet, giving him quite a savage
look. As I looked down at his large flat feet, I felt glad that he
didn't have to travel over macadamized roads.

I sat down on some logs which were lying at one side, and listened to
the worms sawing away, under the bark.

Soon Mr. Wetherell came back with the steers, and dropped the salt down
in spots. We watched them lick it up.

I asked Mr. Wetherell why those logs were left there.