Hills of the Shatemuc | Page 2

had seen not sixteen years. His brother
must have been several in advance of him.
The farmhouse was placed on a little woody and rocky promontory
jutting out into a broad river from the east shore. Above it, on the
higher grounds of the shore, the main body of the farm lay, where a
rich tableland sloped back to a mountainous ridge that framed it in,
about half a mile from the water. Cultivation had stretched its hands
near to the top of this ridge and driven back the old forest, that yet
stood and looked over from the other side. One or two fields were but
newly cleared, as the black stumps witnessed. Many another told of
good farming, and of a substantial reward for the farmer; at what cost
obtained they did not tell.
Towards one of these upland fields, half made ready for a crop of
spring grain, the boys took their way. On first leaving the house, the
road led gently along round the edge of a little bay, of which the
promontory formed the northern horn. Just before reaching the head of
the bay, where the road made a sharp turn and began to ascend to the
tableland, it passed what was called the bend meadow.
It was a very lovely morning of early Spring, one of those days when
nature seems to have hushed herself to watch the buds she has set a
swelling. Promising to be warm, though a little freshness from the night
still lingered in the air. Everywhere on the hills the soft colours of the
young Spring- time were starting out, that delicate livery which is so
soon worn. They were more soft to-day under a slight sultry haziness of
the atmosphere -- a luxurious veil that Spring had coyly thrown over
her face; she was always a shy damsel. It soothed the light, it bewitched
the distance, it lay upon the water like a foil to its brightness, it lay
upon the mind with a subtle charm winning it to rest and enjoy. It
etherealized Earth till it was no place to work in. But there went the
oxen, and the ploughmen.

The one as silently as the other; till the bay was left behind and they
came to the point where the road began to go up to the tableland. Just
under the hill here was a spring of delicious water, always flowing; and
filling a little walled- up basin.
Will, or Will Rufus, as his father had long ago called him, had passed
on and begun to mount the hill. Winthrop stopped his oxen till he
should fill a large stone jug for the day. The jug had a narrow neck, and
he was stooping at the edge of the basin, waiting for the water to flow
in, when his head and shoulders made a sudden plunge and the jug and
he soused in together. Not for any want of steadiness in either of them;
the cause of the plunge was a worthless fellow who was coming by at
the moment. He had a house a little way off on the bay. He lived by
fishing and farming alternately; and was often, and was then, employed
by Mr. Landholm as an assistant in his work. He was on his way to the
bend meadow, and passing close by Winthrop at the spring, the
opportunity was too good to be resisted; he tipped him over into the
water.
The boy soon scrambled out, and shaking himself like a great
water-dog, and with about as much seeming concern, fixed a calm eye
on his delighted enemy.
"Well, Sam Doolittle, -- what good has that done anybody?"
"Ha'n't it done you none, Governor?"
"What do you think?"
"Well! I think you be a cool one -- and the easiest customer ever I see."
"I've a mind it shall do somebody good; so see you don't give my father
any occasion to be out with you; for if you do, I'll give him more."
"Ay, ay," said the man comfortably, "you won't tell on me. Hi! here's
somebody!"
It was Rufus who suddenly joined the group, whip in hand, and looking

like a young Achilles in ploughman's coat and trousers. Not Achilles'
port could be more lordly; the very fine bright hazel eye was on fire;
the nostril spoke, and the lip quivered; though he looked only at his
brother.
"What's the matter, Winthrop?"
"I've been in the water, as you see," said his brother composedly. "I
want a change of clothes, rather."
"How did you get into the water?"
"Why, head foremost -- which wasn't what I meant to do."
"Sam, you put him in!"
"He, he! -- well, Mr. Rufus, maybe I helped him a leetle."
"You scoundrel!" said Rufus, drawing