out into lavender roses. The spectacle was too much for Mrs. Wilson.
She dropped her hook, and flew to the door.

"Well, I've known a good deal, fust an' last, but I never see the beat
o' this! Lucindy, where'd you git that long dress?"

"It's my cashmere," answered Lucindy, joyously. "I set up last night to
lengthen it down."

"Well, I should think you did! Lothrop!"

Her husband had been taking a nap in the sitting-room, and he came out,
rubbing his eyes. Mrs. Wilson could not speak for curiosity. She
watched him with angry intentness. She wondered if he would take
Lucindy's part now! But Lothrop only moved forward and felt at the
girth.

"You know you want to pull him up if he stumbles," he said; "but I
guess he won't. He was a stiddy horse, fifteen year ago."

"Lothrop," began his wife, "do you want to be made a laughin'-stock in
this town--";

"I guess if I've lived in a place over sixty year an' hil' my own, I
can yet," said Lothrop, quietly. "You don't want to ride too long,
Lucindy. You'll be lame to-morrer."

"I didn't suppose 'twould jounce so," said Lucindy; "but it's proper
nice. I don't know what 'twould be on a real high horse. Well,
good-by!" She turned the horse about, and involuntarily struck him with