out or to bring its companion in, for it seemed lonely. She
stood in utter confusion for a minute, then seized the
squawking fowl and disappeared.

When Mr. Crawford was asked if ladies ever went up Mount
Washington, he said two had been up, and he hoped never to see
another trying it, for the last one he brought down on his
shoulders, or she would have never got down alive.

The first night I asked for a change of bed linen. No attention
was paid to my request, and after waiting a long time I found
the landlady and asked her if she would have the sheets
changed. She straightened up and said she didn't think the bed
would hurt anybody, for only two ministers from Boston had
slept in it. We stayed some days and although it was the height
of the season, we were the only guests. Nothing from the
outside world reached us but one newspaper, and that brought
the startling news of the death of Adams and Jefferson on the
fourth of July, just fifty years after their signing the
Declaration of Independence.

The large leghorn bonnet which Mrs. Webster wore on that eventful
journey hangs in my collection of old relics. She told me it used to
hit the wheel when she looked out. And near it is her dark-brown
"calash," a big bonnet with rattans stitched in so it would easily
move back and forward. Her winter hood was of dark blue silk, warmly
wadded and prettily quilted.

Who would not wish to live to be a hundred if health and mental
vigour could be retained? This rare old lady wrote lively, interesting