and had beaten the famous Boston in a great race. She always spoke of "Fash"
with a tone of real tenderness in her voice, and looked after her,
and discussed her ailments, which were always numerous, as if she had been
a delicate child. Mounted on this beast, with her bags and bundles,
and shawls and umbrella, and a long stick or pole, she used occasionally
to make the tour of the neighborhood, and was always really welcomed;
because, notwithstanding the trouble she gave, she always stirred things up.
As was said once, you could no more have remained dull where she was
than you could have dozed with a chinkapin-burr down your back.
Her retort was that a chinkapin-burr might be used to rouse people
from a lethargy (she had an old maid's tongue). By the younger members
of the family she was always welcomed, because she furnished so much fun.
She nearly always fetched some little thing to her host -- not her hostess --
a fowl, or a pat of butter from her one old cow, or something of the kind,
because, she said, "Abigail had established the precedent, and she was
`a woman of good understanding' -- she understood that feeding and flattery
were the way to win men." She would sometimes have a chicken in a basket
hung on the off pummel of her old saddle, because at times she fancied
she could not eat anything but chicken soup, and she did "not wish to
give trouble." She used to give trouble enough; for it generally turned out
that she had heard some one was sick in the neighborhood,
and she wanted the soup carried to her. I remember how mad Joe got
because she made him go with her to carry a bucket of soup
to old Mrs. Ronquist.

Cousin Fanny had the marks of an old maid. She was thin ("scrawny" we used
to call her, though I remember now she was quite erect until she grew feeble);
her features were fine; her nose was very straight; her hair was brown;
and her eyes, which were dark, were weak, so that she had often to wear
a green shade. She used to say herself that they were "bad eyes".