"What?" said Miss Cadwallader; "tell us, will you; for I've come here to live upon wild fruit."
"Yes, ma'am," said Asahel staring a little; — "there's red raspberries, and black raspberries, and low-bush blackberries and high blackberries, and huckleberries, and bearberries, and cranberries; besides nuts, and apples. I guess that ain't all."
"Thank you," said his questioner. "That will do. I don't intend to stay till nut-time. Oh what a way it is round this bay!"
"I wish it was longer," said Elizabeth.
The sun had left all the earth and betaken himself to the clouds; and there he seemed to be disporting himself with all the colours of his palette. There were half a dozen at a time flung on his vapoury canvass, and those were changed and shaded, and mixed and deepened, — till the eye could but confess there was only one such storehouse of glory. And when the painting had faded, and the soft scattering masses were left to their natural grey, here a little silvered and there a little reddened yet, — the whole West was still lit up with a clear white radiance that shewed how hardly the sun's bright track could be forgotten.
"Are we here!" said Elizabeth with a half sigh, as the boat touched the rocks.
"Yes, to be sure," said her cousin. "Where have you been?"
"In the clouds; and I am sorry to come down again."
Mr. Landholm was standing on the rocks, and a very frank and hearty reception he gave them. With him they walked up to the house; Asahel staid behind to wait till Winthrop had made fast the boat.
"How do you like 'em, Governor?" whispered the little boy, crouching upon the rocks to get nearer his brother's ear.