Such a couple were Cephas Cole's father and mother, Aunt Abby and
Uncle Bart. Bartholomew Cole's trade was that of a joiner; as for
Aunt Abby's, it can only be said that she made all trades her own
by sovereign right of investigation, and what she did not know
about her neighbor's occupations was unlikely to he discovered on
this side of Jordan. One of the villagers declared that Aunt Abby
and her neighbor, Mrs. Abel Day, had argued for an hour before
they could make a bargain about the method of disseminating a
certain important piece of news, theirs by exclusive right of
discovery and prior possession. Mrs. Day offered to give Mrs.
Cole the privilege of Saco Hill and Aunt Betty-Jack's, she
herself to take Guide-Board and Town-House Hills. Aunt Abby
quickly proved the injustice of this decision, saying that there
were twice as many families living in Mrs. Day's chosen territory
as there were in that allotted to her, so the river road to
Milliken's Mills was grudgingly awarded to Aunt Abby by way of
compromise, and the ladies started on what was a tour of mercy in
those days, the furnishing of a subject of discussion for long,
quiet evenings.

Uncle Bart's joiner's shop was at the foot of Guide-Board Hill on
the Riverboro side of the bridge, and it was the pleasantest spot
in the whole village. The shop itself had a cheery look, with its
weather-stained shingles, its small square windows, and its
hospitable door, half as big as the front side of the building.
The step was an old millstone too worn for active service, and
the piles of chips and shavings on each side of it had been there
for so many years that sweet-williams, clove pinks, and purple
phlox were growing in among them in the most irresponsible
fashion; while a morning-glory vine had crept up and curled