Tears came to my eyes as I thought of her generosity--greater, far greater than that which has brought me gifts of silver and gold--although my curiosity regarding the Indian Book had abated, largely, for I had taken many a sly peek at it.

Therein I had read how Captain Baynes--my great grandfather--had been killed by the Indians.
I remember the sad excitement of that ride to the village and all the words of advice and counsel spoken by my aunt.
"Don't go out after dark," said she.

"I'm 'fraid some o' them rowdies'll pitch on ye." "If they do I guess they'll be kind o' surprised," said Uncle Peabody.
"I don't want him to fight." "If it's nec'sary, I believe in fightin' tooth an' nail," my uncle maintained.
I remember looking in vain for Sally as we passed the Dunkelbergs'.

I remember my growing loneliness as the day wore on and how Aunt Deel stood silently buttoning my coat with tears rolling down her cheeks while I leaned back upon the gate in front of the Hacket house, on Ashery Lane, trying to act like a man and rather ashamed of my poor success.

It reminded me of standing in the half-bushel measure and trying in vain, as I had more than once, to shoulder the big bag of corn.