Sim Eldredge, who had evidently received orders from headquarters to drop the Lane "agency," troubled me no more, merely glowering reproachfully when we met; and Alvin Baker, whose note had been renewed, although he hailed me with effusive cordiality, did not press his society upon me, having no axe to grind at present.

Zeb Kendrick was using the Lane again, but he took care to bring no more "billiard roomers" as passengers.

I had as yet heard nothing from my quarrel with Tim Hallet.
I spent a good deal of my time in the Comfort, or wandering about the shore and in the woods.

One warm, cloudy morning the notion seized me to go up to the ponds and try for black bass.

There are bass in some of the larger ponds--lakes they would be called anywhere else except on Cape Cod--and, if one is lucky, and the weather is right, and the bait tempting, they may be caught.