ly to his own, full of kindness,
with such hints as the elder could give as to his course of study. His
observing mother saw at once a marked change in his manner and
words. Thoughtful and forbearing, his arrogance disappeared, and his
impetuous, dashing way evidently toned down, while he was more tender
towards her, and seemed to fall naturally into the place of an elder
brother--careful and gentle to the young boys.

CHAPTER VIII.

A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

Already the summer had deepened and ripened into autumn. The sky had
a darker tint, and the breeze had a plaintive note in its voice; and
here and there the footprints of change were in the tree-tops.

On one of those serene, deep afternoons, Barton, who had been
importuned by the boys to go into the woods in pursuit of a flock of
turkeys, that George had over and over declared "could be found just
out south, and which were just as thick and fat as anything," yielded,
and, taking his rifle, started out, accompanied by them, in high glee.
George's declaration about the turkeys was, without much difficulty,
verified, and Bart, who was a practised hunter, and knew all the
habits of the shy and difficult bird, managed in a short time to
secure two. He felt an old longing for a good, long, lonely ramble,
and directed the boys, who were in ecstacies at his skill and the
result, to carry the game back to their mother, while he went out
to the Slashing, adding that if he did not come back until into the
night, they might know he had gone to the pond, to meet the Doctor and
a fishing-party; and with a good-natured admonition from George, to
look out for that wolverine that haunted the Slashing, they separated.

The "Slashing" was a large tract of fallen timber, all of which had
been cut down years before, and left to decay as it fell. Near this,
and to the east, an old roadway had been cut, leading south, which was
often used by the neighbors to go from the Ridgeley neighborhood
to settlements skirting the eastern border of "the woods" before
mentioned. Still further east, and surrounded by forest, on a small
stream, was Coe's carding machine and fulling mill, to which a
by-way led from the State road, at a point near Parker's. The Coes,
a shiftless, harmless set, lived much secluded, and were often the
objects of charity, and as such somewhat under the patronage of Mrs.
Markham and Julia; and some of her young friends were occasionally
attr