Civil　War。　　Theirs　were　generous　houses　surrounded　by　shade　trees；　with
  glorious　back　yardsI　have　been　toldwhere　apricots　and　pears　and
  peaches　and　even　nectarines　grew。
  The　business　of　Breck　and　Company；　wholesale　grocers；　descended　to　my
  mother's　first　cousin；　Robert　Breck；　who　lived　at　Claremore。　　The　very
  sound　of　that　word　once　sufficed　to　give　me　a　shiver　of　delight；　but　the
  Claremore　I　knew　has　disappeared　as　completely　as　Atlantis；　and　the　place
  is　now　a　suburb　（hateful　word！）　cut　up　into　building　lots　and　connected
  with　Boyne　Street　and　the　business　section　of　the　city　by　trolley　lines。
  Then　it　was　〃the　country；〃　and　fairly　saturated　with　romance。　　Cousin
  Robert；　when　he　came　into　town　to　spend　his　days　at　the　store；　brought
  with　him　some　of　this　romance；　I　had　almost　said　of　this　aroma。　　He　was
  no　suburbanite；　but　rural　to　the　backbone；　professing　a　most　proper
  contempt　for　dwellers　in　towns。
  Every　summer　day　that　dawned　held　Claremore　as　a　possibility。　　And　such
  was　my　capacity　for　joy　that　my　appetite　would　depart　completely　when　I
  heard　my　mother　say；　questioningly　and　with　proper　wifely　respect
  〃If　you're　really　going　off　on　a　business　trip　for　a　day　or　two；　Mr。
  Paret〃　（she　generally　addressed　my　father　thus　formally）；　〃I　think　I'll
  go　to　Robert's　and　take　Hugh。〃
  〃Shall　I　tell　Norah　to　pack；　mother；〃　I　would　exclaim；　starting　up。
  〃We'll　see　what　your　father　thinks；　my　dear。〃
  〃Remain　at　the　table　until　you　are　excused；　Hugh；〃　he　would　say。
  Released　at　length；　I　would　rush　to　Norah；　who　always　rejoiced　with　me；
  and　then　to　the　wire　fence　which　marked　the　boundary　of　the　Peters　domain
  next　door；　eager；　with　the　refreshing　lack　of　consideration
  characteristic　of　youth；　to　announce　to　the　Peterseswho　were　to　remain
  at　home　the　news　of　my　good　fortune。　　There　would　be　Tom　and　Alfred　and
  Russell　and　Julia　and　little　Myra　with　her　grass…stained　knees；　faring
  forth　to　seek　the　adventures　of　a　new　day　in　the　shady　western　yard。
  Myra　was　too　young　not　to　look　wistful　at　my　news；　but　the　others
  pretended　indifference；　seeking　to　lessen　my　triumph。　　And　it　was　Julia
  who　invariably　retorted　〃We　can　go　out　to　Uncle　Jake's　farm　whenever　we
  want　to。　　Can't　we；　Tom？〃。。。
  No　journey　ever　taken　since　has　equalled　in　ecstasy　that　leisurely　trip
  of　thirteen　miles　in　the　narrow…gauge　railroad　that　wound　through　hot
  fields　of　nodding　corn　tassels　and　between　delicious；　acrid…smelling
  woods　to　Claremore。　　No　silent　palace　〃sleeping　in　the　sun；〃　no　edifice
  decreed　by　Kubla　Khan　could　have　worn　more　glamour　than　the　house　of
  Cousin　Robert　Breck。
  It　stood　half　a　mile　from　the　drowsy　village；　deep　in　its　own　grounds
  amidst　lawns　splashed　with　shadows；　with　gravel　paths　edgedin　barbarous
  fashion；　if　you　please　with　shells。　　There　were　flower　beds　of　equally
  barbarous　design；　and　two　iron　deer；　which；　like　the　figures　on　Keats's
  Grecian　urn；　were　ever　ready　poised　to　flee；and　yet　never　fled。　　For
  Cousin　Robert　was　rich；　as　riches　went　in　those　days：　not　only　rich；　but
  comfortable。　　Stretching　behind　the　house　were　sweet　meadows　of　hay　and
  red　clover　basking　in　the　heat；　orchards　where　the　cows　cropped　beneath
  the　trees；　arbours　where　purple　clusters　of　Concords　hung　beneath　warm
  leaves：　there　were　woods　beyond；　into　which；　under　the　guidance　of　Willie
  Breck；　I　made　adventurous　excursions；　and　in　the　autumn　gathered
  hickories　and　walnuts。　　The　house　was　a　rambling；　wooden　mansion　painted
  grey；　with　red　scroll…work　on　its　porches　and　horsehair　furniture　inside。
  Oh；　the　smell　of　its　darkened　interior　on　a　midsummer　day！　　Like　the
  flavour　of　that　choicest　of　tropical　fruits；　the　mangosteen；　it　baffles
  analysis；　and　the　nearest　I　can　come　to　it　is　a　mixture　of　matting　and
  corn…bread；　with　another　element　too　subtle　to　define。
  The　hospitality　of　that　house！　　One　would　have　thought　we　had　arrived；　my
  mother　and　I；　from　the　ends　of　the　earth；　such　was　the　welcome　we　got
  from　Cousin　Jenny；　Cousin　Robert's　wife；　from　Mary　and　Helen　with　the
  flaxen　pig…tails；　from　Willie；　whom　I　recall　as　permanently　without　shoes
  or　stockings。　　Met　and　embraced　by　Cousin　Jenny　at　the　station　and　driven
  to　the　house　in　the　squeaky　surrey；　the　moment　we　arrived　she　and　my
  mother　would　put　on　the　dressing…sacks　I　associated　with　hot　weather；　and
  sit　sewing　all　day　long　in　rocking…chairs　at　the　coolest　end　of　the
  piazza。　　The　women　of　that　day　scorned　lying　down；　except　at　night；　and
  as　evening　came　on　they　donned　starched　dresses；　I　recall　in　particular
  one　my　mother　wore；　with　little　vertical　stripes　of　black　and　white；　and
  a　full　skirt。　　And　how　they　talked；　from　the　beginning　of　the　visit　until
  the　end！　　I　have　often　since　wondered　where　the　topics　came　from。
  It　was　not　until　nearly　seven　o'clock　that　the　train　arrived　which
  brought　home　my　Cousin　Robert。　　He　was　a　big　man；　his　features　and　even
  his　ample　moustache　gave　a　disconcerting　impression　of　rugged　integrity；
  and　I　remember　him　chiefly　in　an　alpaca　or　seersucker　coat。　　Though　much
  less　formal；　more　democraticin　a　wordthan　my　father；　I　stood　in　awe
  of　him　for　a　different　reason；　and　this　I　know　now　was　because　he
  possessed　the　penetration　to　discern　the　flaws　in　my　youthful　character；
  flaws　that　persisted　in　manhood。　　None　so　quick　as　Cousin　Robert　to
  detect　deceptions　which　were　hidden　from　my　mother。
  His　hobby　was　carpentering；　and　he　had　a　little　shop　beside　the　stable
  filled　with　shining　tools　which　Willie　and　I；　in　spite　of　their
  attractions；　were　forbidden　to　touch。　　Willie；　by　dire　experience；　had
  learned　to　keep　the　law；　but　on　one　occasion　I　stole　in　alone；　and
  promptly　cut　my　finger　with　a　chisel。　　My　mother　and　Cousin　Jenny
  accepted　the　fiction　that　the　injury　had　been　done　with　a　flint　arrowhead
  that　Willie　had　given　me；　but　when　Cousin　Robert　came　home　and　saw　my
  bound　hand　and　heard　the　story；　he　gave　me　a　certain　look　which　sticks　in
  my　mind。
  〃Wonderful　people；　those　Indians　were！〃　he　observed。　　〃They　could　make
  arrowheads　as　sharp　as　chisels。〃
  I　was　most　uncomfortable。。。。
  He　had　a　strong　voice；　and　spoke　with　a　rising　inflection　and　a　marked
  accent　that　still　remains　peculiar　to　our　locality；　although　it　was　much
  modified　in　my　mother　and　not　at　all　noticeable　in　my　father；　with　an　odd
  nasal　alteration　of　the　burr　our　Scotch…Irish　ancestors　had　brought　with
  them　across　the　seas。　　For　instance；　he　always　called　my　father　Mr。　Par…
  r…ret。　　He　had　an　admiration　and　respect　for　him　that　seemed　to　forbid
  the　informality　of　〃Matthew。〃　　It　was　shared　by　others　of　my　father's
  friends　and　relations。
  〃Sarah；〃　Cousin　Robert　would　say　to　my　mother；　〃you're　coddling　that　boy；
  you　ought　to　lam　him　oftener。　　Hand　him　over　to　me　for　a　couple　of
  monthsI'll　put　him　through　his　paces。。。。　　So　you're　going　to　send　him
  to　college；　are　you？　　He's　too　good　for　old　Benjamin's　grocery　business。〃
  He　was　very　fond　of　my　mother；　though　he　lectured　her　soundly　for　her
  weakness　in　indulging　me。　　I　can　see　him　as　he　sat　at　the　head　of　the
  supper　table；　carving　liberal　helpings　which　Mary　and　Helen　and　Willie
  devoured　with　country　appetites；　watching　our　plates。
  〃What's　the　matter；　Hugh？　　You　haven't　eaten　all　your　lamb。〃
  〃He　doesn't　like　fat；　Robert；〃　my　mother　explained。
  〃I'd　teach　him　to　like　it　if　he　were　my　boy。〃
  〃Well；　Robert；　he　isn't　your　boy；〃　Cousin　Jenny　would　remind　him。。。。
  His　bark　was　worse　than　his　bite。　　Like　many　kind　people　he　made　use　of
  brusqueness　to　hide　an　inner　tenderness；　and　on　the　train　he　was　hail
  fellow　well　met　with　every　Tom；　Dick　and　Harry　that　commuted；although
  the　word　was　not　invented　in　those　days；and　the　conductor　and　brakeman
  too。　　But　he　had　his　standards；　and　held　to　them。。。。
  Mine　was　not　a　questioning　childhood；　and　I　was　willing　to　accept　the
  scheme　of　things　as　presented　to　me　entire。　　In　my　tenderer　years；　when　I
  had　broken　one　of　the　commandments　on　my　father's　tablet　（there　were　more
  than　ten）；　and　had；　on　his　home…coming；　been　sent　to　bed；　my　mother　would
  come　softly　upstairs　after　supper　with　a　book　in　her　hand；　a　book　of
  selected　Bible　stories　on　which　Dr。　Pound　had　set　the　seal　of　his
  approval；　with　a　glazed　picture　cover；　representing　Daniel　in　the　lions'
  den　and　an　angel　standing　beside　him。　　On　the　somewhat　specious　plea　that
  Holy　Writ　might　have　a　chastening　effect；　she　was　permitted　to　minister
  to　me　in　my　shame。　　The　amazing　adventure　of　Shadrach；　Meshach　and
  Abednego　particularly　appealed　to　an　imagination　needing　little
  stimulation。　　It　never　occurred　to　me　to　doubt　that　these　gentlemen　had
  triumphed　over　caloric　laws。　　But　out　of　my　window；　at　the　back　of　the
  second　storey；　I　often　saw　a　sudden；　crimson　glow　in　the　sky　to　the
  southward；　as　though　that　part　of　the　city　had　caught　fire。　　There　were
  the　big　steel…works；　my　mother　told　me；　belonging　to　Mr。　Durrett　and　Mr。
  Hambleton；　the　father　of　Ralph　Hambleton　and　the　grandfather　of　Hambleton
  Durrett；　my　schoolmates　at　Miss　Caroline's。　　I　invariably　connected　the
  glow；　not　with　Hambleton　and　Ralph；　but　with　Shadrach；　Meshach　and
  Abednego！　　Later　on；　when　my　father　took　me　to　the　steel…works；　and　I
  beheld　with　awe　a　huge　pot　filled　with　molten　metal　that　ran　out