Machias. They were indeed very old. By what miracle, even as
anatomical specimens, they had been preserved during their long
journey was a mystery to the camp. In some respects they had
superior memories and reminiscences. The old man--Abner Trix--had
shouldered a musket in the war of 1812; his wife, Abigail, had seen
Lady Washington. She could sing hymns; he knew every text between
"the leds" of a Bible. There is little doubt but that in many
respects, to the superficial and giddy crowd of youthful
spectators, they were the more interesting spectacle.

Whether it was jealousy, distrust, or timidity that overcame the
Saints, was never known, but they studiously declined to meet the
strangers. When directly approached upon the subject, Daddy Downey
pleaded illness, kept himself in close seclusion, and the Sunday
that the Trixes attended church in the school-house on the hill,
the triumph of the Trix party was mitigated by the fact that the
Downeys were not in their accustomed pew. "You bet that Daddy and
Mammy is lying low jest to ketch them old mummies yet," explained a
Downeyite. For by this time schism and division had crept into the
camp; the younger and later members of the settlement adhering to
the Trixes, while the older pioneers stood not only loyal to their
own favorites, but even, in the true spirit of partisanship, began
to seek for a principle underlying their personal feelings. "I
tell ye what, boys," observed Sweetwater Joe, "if this yer camp is
goin' to be run by greenhorns, and old pioneers, like Daddy and the
rest of us, must take back seats, it's time we emigrated and shoved
out, and tuk Daddy with us. Why, they're talkin' of rotation in
offiss, and of putting that skeleton that Ma'am Decker sets up at
the table, to take her boarders' appetites away, into the post-
office in place o' Daddy." And, indeed, there were some fears of