The next Saturday I started to drive my car to Trenton. I was fond of reading, and it was my custom to visit Traver’s bookstore in Trenton or Leary’s in Philadelphia and purchase several books at a time. These second hand books answered my purpose perfectly and were much cheaper than new books. Sometimes I also attended vendues in the country and bought books, but this was not usually very satisfactory.
I had driven about a mile down the river when I overtook two girls traveling afoot in the same direction. One of them was very pretty. I asked them to get in. They looked doubtfully at each other but finally accepted my invitation. The oldest one told me her name was Fanny Hilltop and the pretty girl was her younger sister, Mary. Mary was rather quiet but seemed very pleasant. She smiled very often and when she smiled she showed a very pretty set of very white teeth. I had always admired white teeth and pretty girls and Mary seemed very nice. We came to a cross road very soon and the girls said they must get down there, they lived about a mile up the side road. I told them I was out for a ride, which was true enough, and that I might as well take them home, but they warned me the road was rough and hilly.
I turned into the by-road and though it was rough and rocky got along very well for over half a mile; then we came to a short, very steep hill. The car snorted and puffed and finally stopped. I let it back down, put on full speed and went at it again. It stuck fast again. By this time the girls had grown nervous backing down the hill, so I pulled the car to one side of the road and we walked to their house up several hills and directly on top of a mountain overlooking two beautiful valleys, one on either side. Their house was a very pretty one painted white. I told Mary that they had a right to the name of Hilltop but she said I had misunderstood, it was Hillpot. “Oh,” said I, “that must be a mistake. I believe one of your ancestors was a poor speller and twisted the spelling.”
The girls invited me to come in and rest or at least to sit down on the porch awhile. I chose the latter. The mother came out after awhile and I was introduced. She was a pleasant-looking, motherly soul, quick-motioned and rather thin. Her face was seamed with fine wrinkles and her hands showed signs of hard usage. I liked her looks and I liked Mary, too. They invited me to stay to dinner and I accepted. Fanny went to help her mother with the dinner while Mary entertained me. The father and a half grown boy came in after awhile.
Old man Hillpot looked me over pretty sharply, and I thought I knew just what he was thinking, but I wasn’t thinking that at all. The boy looked at Mary and then at me and then he grinned and Mary’s eyes snapped. I knew what he thought and what she thought. The old lady had a pleasant smile on her face as if she never thought at all, but I knew that she was doing a heap more thinking than all the others put together; for she was figuring out what each one thought and then what she should do herself so that everything should come out all right. I was getting to like the old lady.
After dinner Mary and I went out on the porch. The old lady and Fanny washed the dishes. The old man and the boy went off to milk the cows but the boy winked at Mary before he started and her eyes snapped again. After we had talked awhile I excused myself to get a drink in the kitchen. The old lady was washing the dishes. She had a dish pan full of soapy water and a dish cloth. First she scraped all the dishes as clean as possible; then she put them in the soapy water and rubbed them with the cloth; then she put them into another pan full of very hot water, took them out and laid them on the table. I got a towel and wiped them for her. She said:
“This isn’t the first time you wiped dishes.”
“How do you know?” I replied.
“Because you washed your hands first, and you don’t touch the dishes with your hands.”