"'Maud,' he repeated, 'I was just wishing that that big mountain over yonder, right under Taffy River, would spring a leak.'
"For a long time they sat weeping and thinking of it; nor is there any doubt that they wept over it until far into the night, when they fell asleep and forgot about it.
"This then is the story, my children, of the strange path on the side of the mountain that lies like a scar on the face of the cliff; and many are the old settlers thereabout who will vouch for the truth of my tale.
"It is needless to prove true what is true; still if there is any feeling of doubt in your hearts, just stand on the banks of the fair Shenandoah almost any warm morning in springtime, and no doubt you will see 'Aunt Twaddles' slowly ascending the path with her big bag of herbs.
"But if you should happen to miss her, and still want some proof of these facts, just keep a close watch on the strangers who step from the trains when they stop at the little stone station. If you see them wiping their eyes with a handkerchief and gazing about on the surrounding mountains, you may be sure they have once eaten some of 'Aunt Twaddles' candy and are wiping the tears from their eyes and crying like children for more.
"At the same time you will see them looking about on the cliffs, and searching for the steep path that leads up to the Village of Hide and Seek, quite firmly resolved at some future day to return and go up with 'Aunt Twaddles.' But for the present, (poor things), their only hope is to go back into the cars and cry until they forget about it.
"There are many more wonderful things I might tell you of the Village of Hide and Seek, and likewise to the everlasting glory of 'Aunt Twaddles'' candy as well, but the very thought of it makes me feel sad; for now as I talk, I feel tears coming to my eyes and find I must either talk on and cry on, or quit talking and forget about it.
"Excuse me, dear children, won't you, while I weep?"
As the Vagabond ceased speaking the tears flowed down his cheeks in a perfect torrent; and although the children were delighted with his story, they too wept in sympathy with him. The very loudest of all was the dear little tot who had occupied the place of honor on his knee.
While the group of children sat weeping in sympathy under the tree, the Vagabond arose. Bidding them all farewell, he placed his old, worn-out hat on his head, shouldered his crooked staff, waved a parting blessing toward the well on the lawn, and still weeping, passed out of sight along the dusty highway.