The Kimball house was of the large roomy kind the early farmers built, with tall white pillars supporting the roof of the front porch, on top of which was a balcony. A gravel driveway passed along the south side of the building leading to the barn in the rear. Instead of going in the front door, which was, as is usual in the country, seldom opened, Mr. Kimball led the way around the side. Roger, following, heard the splash of running water, and, turning the corner, he saw a pipe spouting a sparkling stream which fell into a big basin, chiselled out of a single solid stone. This was right at the side door of the house.
"Thar!" exclaimed Mr. Kimball, "thar, Roger, you'll find thet th' best water in th' State. Nothin' like it at Saratogy er New York City. It comes from a spring right up thar on my hill, 'n' we're th' fust family t' git it, jest 's it bubbles up from th' ground. Here!" taking down the half of an empty cocoanut shell, which served as a dipper, "here, sample it," and he let the spout fill the brown vessel with the babbling, laughing water.
Roger drank deep of the refreshing liquid, for he was thirsty from the long drive, and, when he handed back the empty dipper, with a grateful breath of contentment, his uncle needed no better evidence that the water was good, as indeed any one who has been to Cardiff and tasted of it will bear witness.
Now there was the flutter of a red dress in the doorway, and Roger looked up to meet the gaze of a pretty, brown-eyed girl, whose flushed cheeks took on a deeper color as she smiled at the boy.
"That's him, Clara," called out Adrian. "That's him, 'n' I threw him, too."
"Thet's your cousin Clara," put in Mr. Kimball. "I guess ye never seen her before, 'cause th' last time yer mother were here, Clara wa'n't born yit, 'n' I vum, ye was such' a leetle chap, thet it were hard work t' locate ye, in yer long dresses," and he laughed heartily at the remembrance.
Clara held out her hand, which Roger shook warmly. She was a girl of fourteen, and was almost as large as Roger. He thought her one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen.
"I'm so glad you got here safely," she said. "I suppose Ade made you wrestle as soon as you got off the stage. I believe he would rather roll in the dirt that way than eat," and she glanced at her brother, who was turning a handspring nimbly.
"Not much I wouldn't! Not when I know supper's so near ready," answered Adrian, landing on his feet near Clara.
Then Roger became aware of the nicest odor coming from the region of the kitchen. He thought it was the best he had ever smelled, for he was hungry, more hungry than he had been in several weeks, as his appetite had not been good of late. Now it seemed as if he could not get to the table quickly enough.