Mr. Jacob Liscom is a pleasant-faced, mild-eyed man, very tall and
slender. He lifted out the Jameson boy, who did not jump out over the
wheel, as boys generally do when arriving at a picnic, and then he
tipped over the front seat and helped out Madam Cobb, and the younger
daughter, whose name was Sarah. We had not thought much of such
old-fashioned names as Harriet and Sarah for some years past in our
village, and it seemed rather odd taste in these city people. We
considered Hattie and Sadie much prettier. Generally the Harriets and
Sarahs endured only in the seclusion of the family Bible and the
baptismal records. Quite a number of the ladies had met Mrs. Jameson,
having either called at Mrs. Liscom's and seen her there, or having
spoken to her at church; and as for Grandma Cobb, she had had time to
visit nearly every house in the village, as I knew, though she had
not been to mine. Grandma Cobb got out, all smiling, and Jacob Liscom
handed her the box of peppermints and the paper-covered novel, and
then Harry Liscom helped out Harriet and her mother.

Mrs. Jameson walked straight up to us who were laying the table, and
Harry followed her with a curiously abashed expression, carrying a
great tin cracker-box in one hand and a large basket in the other. We
said good-morning as politely as we knew how to Mrs. Jameson, and she
returned it with a brisk air which rather took our breaths away, it
was so indicative of urgent and very pressing business. Then, to our
utter astonishment, up she marched to the nearest basket on the
table and deliberately took off the cover and began taking out the
contents. It happened to be Mrs. Nathan Butters' basket. Mrs. Jameson
lifted out the great loaf of fruit cake and set it on the table
with a contemptuous thud, as it seemed to us; then she took out a
cranberry pie and a frosted apple pie, and set them beside it. She