The Country of the Pointed Firs

I was not incompetent at herb-gathering, and after a while, when I had sat long enough waking myself to new thoughts, and reading a page of remembrance with new pleasure, I gathered some bunches, as I was bound to do, and at last we met again higher up the shore, in the plain every-day world we had left behind when we went down to the penny-royal plot. As we walked together along the high edge of the field we saw a hundred sails about the bay and farther seaward; it was mid-afternoon or after, and the day was coming to an end. “Yes, they're all makin' towards the shore,--the small craft an' the lobster smacks an' all,” said my companion. “We must spend a little time with mother now, just to have our tea, an' then put for home.” “No matter if we lose the wind at sundown; I can row in with Johnny,” said I; and Mrs. Todd nodded reassuringly and kept to her steady plod, not quickening her gait even when we saw William come round the corner of the house as if to look for us, and wave his hand and disappear. “Why, William's right on deck; I didn't know's we should see any more of him!” exclaimed Mrs. Todd. “Now mother'll put the kettle right on; she's got a good fire goin'.” I too could see the blue smoke thicken, and then we both walked a little faster, while Mrs. Todd groped in her full bag of herbs to find the daguerreotypes and be ready to put them in their places.