"I remember," said Mrs. Kew, presently, "that just before I was married
'he' took me over to Wareham Corners to a caravan. My sister Hannah and
the young man who was keeping company with her went too. I haven't been
to one since till to-day, and it does carry me back same's it does you,
Miss Kate. It doesn't seem more than five years ago, and what would I
have thought if I had known 'he' and I were going to keep a lighthouse
and be contented there, what's more, and sometimes not get ashore for a
fortnight; settled, gray-headed old folks! We were gay enough in those
days. I know old Miss Sabrina Smith warned me that I'd better think
twice before I took up with Tom Kew, for he was a light-minded young
man. I speak o' that to him in the winter-time, when he sets reading the
almanac half asleep and I'm knitting, and the wind's a' howling and the
waves coming ashore on those rocks as if they wished they could put out
the light and blow down the lighthouse. We were reflected on a good deal
for going to that caravan; some of the old folks didn't think it was
improvin'--Well, I should think that man was a trying to break his
neck!"

Coming out of the great tent was disagreeable enough, and we seemed to
have chosen the worst time, for the crowd pushed fiercely, though I
suppose nobody was in the least hurry, and we were all severely jammed,
while from somewhere underneath came the wails of a deserted dog. We had
not meant to see the side-shows, and went carelessly past two or three
tents; but when we came in sight of the picture of the Kentucky
giantess, we noticed that Mrs. Kew looked at it wistfully, and we
immediately asked if she cared anything about going to see the wonder,
whereupon she confessed that she never heard of such a thing as a
woman's weighing six hundred and fifty pounds, so we all three went in.
There were only two or three persons inside the tent, beside a little