ectable farm.
Of course I could not attend to the manifold duties on such a place, and
my wife seldom had a happier thought than when she proposed that we
should invite Pomona and her husband to come and live with us. Pomona
was delighted, and Jonas was quite willing to run our farm. So
arrangements were made, and the young couple were established in
apartments in our back building, and went to work as if taking care of
us and our possessions was the ultimate object of their lives. Jonas was
such a steady fellow that we feared no trouble from tree-man or
lightning rodder during this absence.

Our destination was a country tavern on the stage-road, not far from the
point where the road crosses the ridge of the mountain range, and about
sixteen miles from the town. We had heard of this tavern from a friend
of ours, who had spent a summer there. The surrounding country was
lovely, and the house was kept by a farmer, who was a good soul, and
tried to make his guests happy. These were generally passing farmers and
wagoners, or stage-passengers, stopping for a meal, but occasionally a
person from the cities, like our friend, came to spend a few weeks in
the mountains.

So hither we came, for an out-of-the-world spot like this was just what
we wanted. When I took our place at the stage-office, I inquired for
David Button, the farm tavern-keeper before mentioned, but the agent did
not know of him.

"However," said he, "the driver knows everybody on the road, and he'll
set you down at the house."

So, off we started, having paid for our tickets on the basis that we
were to ride about sixteen miles. We had seats on top, and the trip,
although slow,--for the road wound uphill steadily,--was a delightful
one. Our way lay, for the greater part of the time, through the woods,
but now and then we came to a farm, and a turn in the road often gave us
lovely views of the foot-hills and the valleys behind us.

But the driver did not know where Dutton's tavern was. This we found out
after we had started. Some persons might have thought it wiser to settle
this matter before starting, but I am not at all sure that it would have
been so. We were going to this tavern, and did not wish to go anywhere
else. If people did not know where it was, it would be well for us to go
and look for it. We knew the road that it was on, and the locality in
which it was to be found.

Still, it was somewhat strange that a stage-driver, passing along the