ced Surrager by everybody. Old Man
Fewkes said they named him this because a well-read man had told them it
might give him force of character; but it failed. He was a harmless
little chap, and there was nothing bad about him except that he was
addicted to inventions. When they came into camp that day he was
explaining to Celebrate a plan for catching wild geese with fish-hooks
baited with corn, and that evening came to me to see if he couldn't
borrow a long fish-line.

"I can ketch meat for a dozen outfits with it," he said, "if I can
borrow a fish-hook."

Walking along behind the wagon came the fifth member of the family,
Rowena, a girl of seventeen. She went several rods behind the wagon, and
as they rushed and plodded along according to old Tom's temper, I
noticed that she rambled over the prairie a good deal picking flowers;
and you would hardly have thought to look at her that she belonged to
the Fewkes outfit at all. I guess that was the way she wanted it to
look. She was as vigorous as the others were limpsey and boneless; and
there was in her something akin to the golden plovers that were running
in hundreds that morning over the prairies--I haven't seen one for
twenty-five years! That is, she skimmed over the little knolls rather
than walked, as if made of something lighter than ordinary human clay.
Her dress was ragged, faded, and showed through the tears in it a
tattered quilted petticoat, and she wore no bonnet or hat; but carried
in, her hand a boy's cap--which, according to the notions harbored by us
then, it would have been immodest for her to wear. Her hair was brown
and blown all about her head, and her face was tanned to a rich brown--a
very bad complexion then, but just the thing the society girl of to-day
likes to show when she returns from the seashore.

When her family had halted, she did not come to them at once, but made a
circuit or two about the camp, like a shy bird coming to its nest, or as
if she hated to do it; and when she did come it was in a sort of defiant
way, swinging herself and tossing her head, and looking at every one as
bold as brass. I was staring at the astonishing horse, the queer wagon,
and the whole outfit with more curiosity than manners, I reckon, when
she came into the circle, and caught my unmannerly eye.

"Well," she said, her face reddening under the tan, "if you see anything
green throw your hat at it! Sellin' gawp-seed, or what is your
business?"

"I beg your p