handy at all times, and capable of doing all things, from laying out a
corpse to spicing a wedding-cake. Often self-invited, but always
welcome, very few social or domestic events could occur in four
townships (East Marlborough, Kennett, Pennsbury, and New-Garden) without
her presence; while her knowledge of farms, families, and genealogies
extended up to Fallowfield on one side, and over to Birmingham on the
other.

It was, therefore, a matter of course, whatever the present occasion
might be, that Miss Lavender put on her broad gray beaver hat, and brown
stuff cloak, and took the way to Barton's. The distance could easily be
walked in five minutes, and the day was remarkably pleasant for the
season. A fortnight of warm, clear weather had extracted the last fang
of frost, and there was already green grass in the damp hollows.
Bluebirds picked the last year's berries from the cedar-trees; buds
were bursting on the swamp-willows; the alders were hung with tassels,
and a powdery crimson bloom began to dust the bare twigs of the maple-
trees. All these signs of an early spring Miss Lavender noted as she
picked her way down the wooded bank. Once, indeed, she stopped, wet her
forefinger with her tongue, and held it pointed in the air. There was
very little breeze, but this natural weathercock revealed from what
direction it came.

"Southwest!" she said, nodding her head--"Lucky!"

Having crossed the creek on a flat log, secured with stakes at either
end, a few more paces brought her to the warm, gentle knoll, upon which
stood the farm-house. Here, the wood ceased, and the creek, sweeping
around to the eastward, embraced a quarter of a mile of rich bottomland,
before entering the rocky dell below. It was a pleasant seat, and the