ere they are!" And who should come through the cedars but the old
Squire! A little behind him was Tom's father.

On account of the severity of the weather both families had been much
alarmed when we failed to come home the night before. Making an early
start that morning, Mr. Edwards and the old Squire had driven to the
Silver farm and, leaving their team there, had followed the town line in
search of us. On reaching Wild Brook they had seen that the snow bridge
had fallen, and at first they had been badly frightened. On looking
round, however, they had found the marks of our boot heels on the frozen
snow, heading up-stream, and had immediately guessed that we had gone to
the old camp. So we had their company on the way home; and much
astonished both of them were at the sight of so many geese.

The two households shared the goose feathers. The meat was in excellent
condition for cooking, and our two families had many a good meal of
roast goose. We sent six of the birds to the town farm, and we heard
afterwards that the seventeen paupers there partook of a grand goose
dinner, garnished with apple sauce. But I have often thought of that old
gander flying north to the breeding grounds alone.

The following week we walked the remaining part of the town line and
received the fee.

CHAPTER XII

THE ROSE-QUARTZ SPRING

Throughout that entire season the old Squire was much interested in a
project for making a fortune from the sale of spring water. The water of
the celebrated Poland Spring, twenty miles from our place--where the
Poland Spring Hotel now stands--was already enjoying an enviable
popularity; and up in our north pasture on the side of Nubble Hill,
there was, and still is, a fine spring, the water of which did not
differ in analysis from that of the Poland Spring. It is the "boiling"
type of spring, and the water, which is stone-cold, bubbles up through
white quartzose sand at the foot of a low granite ledge. It flows
throughout the year at the rate of about eight gallons a minute.

It had always been called the Nubble Spring, but when the old Squire and
Addison made their plans for selling the spring water they rechristened
it the Rose-Quartz Spring on account of an outcrop of rose quartz in the
ledges near by.

They had the water analyzed by a chemist in Boston, who pronounced it as
pure as Poland water, and, indeed, so like it that he could detect no
difference. All of us were soon enthusiastic abo