“Men!” said Uncle Isaac. “You have as yet wrestled only with boys. Our men all happen to be away.”
“If you call these boys, I should like to see your men.”
“Here comes one of them,” said Uncle Isaac, pointing towards the water.
The eyes of the stranger, following the direction of his finger, rested upon the massive shoulders of Lion Ben, who was approaching the shore in his big canoe, pulling cross-handed, while Joel Ricker, with his tools in his lap, was sitting in the stern.
They landed, wondering much at the crowd assembled. Ricker walked up the beach with his tools, while Ben followed, dragging the canoe with one hand over the gravel.
The stranger gazed with dilating eyes, as he straightened up to his full proportions. Then he went to the canoe, but found himself unable to move it, even down hill.
“What may I call your name, friend?” asked Uncle Isaac, approaching.
“Libby—Lemuel Libby, from Black Pint, in Scarboro’.”
Uncle Isaac then introduced him to Captain Rhines, John, and Lion Ben, at the same time informing him that they were the father and two sons. Libby gazed a moment upon these superb specimens of manly vigor, and resuming his clothes, said, “This is no place for common men, like me. I’ll make tracks for home.”