“No, sir,” said she, striking with her expansive hand the newspaper in her lap—“no, sir. I’d get up early in the mornin’, and cook and wash and bake and scour. I’d skin the things he shot, and clean his fish, and dig bait if he wanted it. I’d tramp into the woods after him, and carry the gun and the victuals and fishin’-poles, and I’d set traps and row a boat and build fires, and let him go along and work out his own nater smokin’ or in any other way he was born to. That’s the biggest thing I’ve found out about myself. I never knowed, until I began, this mornin’, explorin’ of my own nater, what a powerful hard thing it is, when I’m thinkin’ of my own individdlety, to keep somebody else’s individdlety from poppin’ up in front of it, and so says I to myself, ‘If I can think of both them individdleties at the same time it will suit me fust-rate.’ And when you come along I thought I’d let you know what sort of a nater I’ve got, for it ain’t likely you’d ever find it out for yourself. And now that we’re in that business—”
“Hello!” cried Matlack, springing to his feet. “There is somebody callin’ me. Who’s there?” he shouted, stepping out into the bed of the stream.
A call was now heard, and in a few moments the bishop appeared some distance below.
“Mr. Matlack,” he said, “there’s a man at your camp inquiring for you. He came from Sadler’s, and I’ve been looking high and low for you.”
“A man from Sadler’s,” said Matlack, turning to Mrs. Perkenpine, “and I must be off to see him. Remember what I told you about the supper.” And so saying, he walked rapidly away.
Out in the open Matlack found the bishop. “Obliged to you for lookin’ me up,” he said, “it’s a pity to give you so much trouble.”
“Oh, don’t mention it!” exclaimed the bishop. “You cannot understand, perhaps, not knowing the circumstances, but I assure you I never was more obliged to any one than to that man who wants to see you and couldn’t find you. There was no one else to look for you, and I simply had to go.”
“You are not goin’ to walk back to camp?” inquired Matlack.
“No,” replied the bishop, “now that I am here, I think I will go up the lake and try to find a very secluded spot in the shade and take a nap.”
The guide smiled as he walked away. “Don’t understand!” said he. “You’ve got the boot on the wrong leg.”