ainted straw
color. Three great Balm o' Gilead trees towered over it. A long
wood-shed led from the house to a new stable, with a gilt vane and
cupola, which showed off somewhat to the disadvantage of the two larger
barns beyond it; for the latter were barns of the old times, high-posted
with roofs of low pitch, and weathered from long conflicts with storms.
Around them, like stunted children, clustered sheds, sties and a
top-heavy corn-crib, stilted on four long, smooth legs.

Two boys, one carrying a gun, were coming in from the field; and I saw
girls' faces at the front windows.

We drove in at the open door of the stable; and while we were alighting
from the wagon, grandmother came out to welcome me and see, I suppose,
what manner of lad I was. The two boys, larger than myself and bearing
little resemblance to each other, approached to unharness the horse;
they regarded me casually, without much apparent interest; and a sense
of being an utter stranger there fell on me. I hardly ventured to glance
at grandmother, who took me by both hands and looked earnestly in my
face. I feared that she would kiss me before the others and durst not
look at her. "Yes," I heard her say, in a low voice, "it is Edmund's own
boy." She led the way into the house, through the long wood-shed and
ell. Supper was waiting; and after a hasty wash at a long sink in the
wood-shed, I followed grandfather through the kitchen to the room beyond
it, where the large round table was spread. The family all came in and
sat down. I still felt very strange to the place; but a glance into
grandmother's kind face reassured me a little.

Grandmother, as I remember her, was then fair and plump, with hair
partially gray, and a tinge of recent sadness upon a face naturally
genial. With a quiet sigh, she seated me next to her--a sigh for the
last of her boys.

"They are all here now, father," she said, "the last one has come. It's
a strange thing to see them coming as they have and know why they have
come."

My cousins were regarding me with a kind of curious sympathy. I picked
out Halstead at a glance: a boy with a rather low forehead, dark
complexion and a round head, which his short clipped hair caused to
appear still more spherical. A hare-lip, never appropriately treated,
gave his mouth a singular, grieved droop; but, as if in contradiction to
this, his eyes were black and restless. The contrast with the steady
gray eyes, and high forehead of the boy