nor tingled the
blood with a more hilarious spirit; and the orchards were never more
fragrant, nor the silver moon more round or fair.

Fabens marshalled his corn 'stouts,' like a legion of soldiers in a
hollow square, on the green mown meadow in front of his house, a
quarter of a mile away; and sent invitations far and near for a very
large gathering. He was particular even to invite Tilly Troffater and
his family; and a great number came. They came at half-past six; and
as the last sat down to the husking, the mild and majestic moon rose
smiling over the Owasco woods, and flooded the skies, and kindled the
dews with her mellow beams. Uncle Walter and Mr. Waldron were the
first on the ground; and Wilson and Troffater did not linger long
behind. A number of women were present; and a whole bevy of jocund
boys enjoyed it. The greetings were warm and brief, and the songs and
stories commenced quite early. Colwell had been on a bee hunt, he
said, that day, in the Richmond Openings, and discovered three swarms,
and almost traced another. Uncle Walter had been husking the corn he
had topped and left on the hill. Mr. Nimblet had harrowed in a
late-sown fallow. Troffater had looked to his traps, and spent the
rest of the day fishing on the lake. Most of the women had been drying
apples and coloring flannel.

Fanny Fabens and Nancy Nimblet sang the 'Silver Moon;' and all
confessed it was never sung better. Uncle Walter told a panther story,
with thrilling additions they never had heard before; sent cutting
little tremors of terror trembling through their hearts, and made them
thank their stars that those perilous days were over. Troffater told
his "Jemmy Harvey" story, saying "Jemmy was green as a mess o' cowslops
and the priest tuck forty dollars for pardoning his sins, and left him
without a shiner to tuck himself hum agin;" then he crossed and cocked
his black and blue eyes and laughed in convulsions at the story, while
they laughed at the manner in which the story was told. Teezle told a
story about the Indians and Tories "that cut up such didoes in the
revolution down there in the Diliway." Colwell repeated the story of
Milo Dale, the money-digger.

Then Squire Fabens told a story of a man who was caught in his
neighbor's granary borrowing wheat, and who was given a bag full and
his supper in the bargain, and sent home, promising he'd never do the
like again.

"A sap-headed fool, I guess it was, that foun