There was refreshment and strength to be had from nature’s pure and calm face; so very pure and calm the mountains looked down upon her and the river smiled up.  The opposite hill-tops shone in the warm clear light of the October setting sun, the more warm and bright for the occasional red and yellow leaves that chequered their green, and many tawny and half turned trees that mellowed the whole mountain side.  Such clear light as shone upon them! such unearthly blue as rose above them! such a soft and fair water face that gave back the blue!  What could eyes do but look; what could the mind do but wonder, and be thankful; and wonder again, at the beauty, and grow bright in the sunlight, and grow pure in that shadowless atmosphere.  The sharp cedar tops on Shahweetah were so many illuminated points, and further down the river the sunlight caught just the deep bend of the water in the bay; the rest was under shadow of the western hills.  All was under a still and hush, —­ nothing sounded or moved but here and there a cricket; the tide was near flood and crept up noiselessly; the wind blew somewhere else, but not in October.  Softly the sun went down and the shadows stole up.

Elizabeth stood with her hands pressed upon her breast, drinking in all the sights and sounds, and many of their soft whisperings that only the spirit catches; when her ear was caught by very dissimilar and discordant notes behind her, —­ the screaming of discomposed chickens and the grating of Mr. Underhill’s boots on the gravel.

“Here’s chickens for ye,” said the farmer, who held the legs of two pair in his single hand, the heads of the same depending and screaming in company, —­ “and here’s three dozen of fresh eggs —­ if you want more you can send for ’em.  Will you take these along in the Merry-go-round?”

“If you please —­ there is no other way,” said Elizabeth.  “Wait —­ let me get in first, Mr. Underhill —­ Are they tied so they can’t get loose?”

“La! yes,” said the old man putting them into the bow of the boat, —­ “they can’t do nothin’!  I’ll engage they won’t hurt ye.  Do you good, if you eat ’em right.  Good bye! —­ it’s pretty nigh slack water, I guess —­ you’ll go home easy.  Come again! —­ and you shall have some more fowls to take home with ye!” —­

Elizabeth bowed her acknowledgments, and pulled away towards home, over the bright water, wondering again very much at herself and her chickens.  The dark barrier of the western hills rose up now before her, darkening and growing more distant —­ as she went all the way over the river home.  Elizabeth admired them and admired at herself by turns.

Near the landing, however, the boat paused again, and one oar splashed discontentedly in the water and then lay still, while the face of its owner betrayed a struggle of some sort going on.  The displeased brow, and the firm-set lips, said respectively, ‘I would not,’ and ‘I must;’ and it was five minutes good before the brow cleared up and the lips unbent to their usual full free outline; and the oars were in play once more, and the Merry-go-round brought in and made fast.