His Majesty's Council, or surveyors of His Majesty's Woods, or King's
Officers of Customs for the town of Deephaven. Some of the epitaphs were
beautiful, showing that tenderness for the friends who had died, that
longing to do them justice, to fully acknowledge their virtues and
dearness, which is so touching, and so unmistakable even under the
stiff, quaint expressions and formal words which were thought suitable
to be chiselled on the stones, so soon to be looked at carelessly by
the tearless eyes of strangers. We often used to notice names, and learn
their history from the old people whom we knew, and in this way we heard
many stories which we never shall forget. It is wonderful, the romance
and tragedy and adventure which one may find in a quiet old-fashioned
country town, though to heartily enjoy the every-day life one must care
to study life and character, and must find pleasure in thought and
observation of simple things, and have an instinctive, delicious
interest in what to other eyes is unflavored dulness.

To go back to Mrs. Patton; on our way home, after our first call upon
her, we stopped to speak to Mrs. Dockum, who mentioned that she had seen
us going in to the "Widow Jim's."

"Willin' woman," said Mrs. Dockum, "always been respected; got an
uncommon facility o' speech. I never saw such a hand to talk, but then
she has something to say, which ain't the case with everybody. Good
neighbor, does according to her means always. Dreadful tough time of it
with her husband, shif'less and drunk all his time. Noticed that dent in
the side of her forehead, I s'pose? That's where he liked to have killed
her; slung a stone bottle at her."

"_What!_" said Kate and I, very much shocked.