What a contrast to the condition it had been in, when occupied by the
Putnams! Then everything had been neglected--now garden, field, and
orchard showed a high state of cultivation, and the house and
outbuildings were in good repair and freshly painted. Inside, the
careful attention of a competent housekeeper was apparent. Huldah
Pettingill was a finer looking woman than Huldah Mason had been, but
Quincy had never forgotten how pretty she looked the day she lay in
bed with the plaster cast on her broken arm--the result of the
accident for which he had taken the blame belonging to another.

They had just sat down in the little parlour when cries of "Mamma"
were heard outside and four year old Quincy Adams Pettingill burst
into the room followed closely by Abner Stiles.

"He don't mind me no more'n a woodchuck would," said Abner--then his
eyes fell on Quincy, who rose to greet him.

"Why, if it ain't"--but words failed him as Quincy gave his hand a
hearty grasp.

"This is the first time I ever shook hands with a guv'nor," said
Abner. "I didn't know you was going to shake hands all round the
night of the show an' I went home." He looked at his right hand,
rubbed it softly with his left, and then remarked: "I sha'n't wash
that hand for a couple o' days if I can help it."

His hearers laughed, for his words were accentuated by the old-time
grin that had pleased Obadiah Strout on some occasions, but on others
had raised his ire to an explosive point.