that this haunt has not acquired that air of repulsive custom which the
egg shells and broken bottles and sardine boxes of many seasons give。 Or
perhaps the winter tempests heap the tides of the bay over the ledge； and
wash it clean of these vulgar traces of human resort； and enable it to
offer as fresh a welcome to the picnics of each successive summer as if
there had never been a picnic in that place before。
This was the sense that Mavering professed to have received from it； when
he jumped out of the beach wagon in which he had preceded the other
carriages through the weird forest lying between the fringe of farm
fields and fishing…villages on the western shore of the island and these
lonely coasts of the bay。 As far as the signs of settled human
habitation last； tho road is the good hard country road of New England；
climbing steep little hills； and presently leading through long tracts of
woodland。 But at a certain point beyond the furthest cottage you leave
it； and plunge deep into the heart of the forest； vaguely traversed by
the wheel…path carried through since the island was opened to summer
sojourn。 Road you can hardly call it； remembering its curious pauses and
hesitations when confronted with stretches of marshy ground； and its
staggering progress over the thick stubble of saplings through which it
is cut。 The progress of teams over it is slow； but there is such joy of
wildness in the solitudes it penetrates that； if the horses had any gait
slower than a walk； one might still wish to stay them。 It is a Northern
forest； with the air of having sprang quickly up in the fierce heat and
haste of the Northern summers。 The small firs are set almost as dense as
rye in a field； and in their struggle to the light they have choked one
another so that there is a strange blight of death and defeat on all that
vigour of life。 Few of the trees have won any lofty growth； they seem to
have died and fallen when they were about to outstrip the others in size；
and from their decay a new sylvan generation riots rankly upward。 The
surface of the ground is thinly clothed with a deciduous undergrowth；
above which are the bare； spare stems of the evergreens； and then their
limbs thrusting into one another in a sombre tangle； with locks of long
yellowish…white moss； like the grey pendants of the Southern pines；
dripping from them and draining their brief life。
In such a place you must surrender yourself to its influences； profoundly
yet vaguely melancholy； or you must resist them with whatever gaiety is
in you； or may be conjured out of others。 It was conceded that Mavering
was the life of the party； as the phrase goes。 His light…heartedness； as
kindly and sympathetic as it was inexhaustible； served to carry them over
the worst places in the road of itself。 He jumped down and ran back；
when he had passed a bad bit； to see if the others were getting through
safely； the least interesting of the party had some proof of his
impartial friendliness； he promised an early and triumphant emergence
from all difficulties； he started singing； and sacrificed himself in
several tunes； for he could not sing well； his laugh seemed to be always
coming back to Alice； where she rode late in the little procession；
several times； with the deference which he delicately qualified for her；
he came himself to see if he could not do something for her。
〃Miss Pasmer；〃 croaked her friend Miss Anderson； who always began in that
ceremonious way with her； and got to calling her Alice further along in
the conversation； 〃if you don't drop something for that poor fellow to
run back two or three miles and get； pretty soon； I'll do it myself。
It's peyfectly disheaytening to see his disappointment when you tell him
theye's nothing to be done。〃
〃He seems to get over it；〃 said Alice evasively。 She smiled with
pleasure in Miss Anderson's impeachment； however。
〃Oh； he keeps coming； if that's what you mean。 But do drop an umbrella；
or a rubber； or something； next time； just to show a proper
appreciation。〃
But Mavering did not come any more。 Just before they got to the cove；
Miss Anderson leaned over again to whisper in Alice's ear； 〃I told you he
was huyt。 Now you must be very good to him the rest of the time。〃
Upon theory a girl of Alice Pasmer's reserve ought to have resented this
intervention； but it is not probable she did。 She flushed a little； but
not with offence； apparently； and she was kinder to Mavering； and let him
do everything for her that he could invent in transferring the things
from the wagons to the rocks。
The party gave a gaiety to the wild place which accented its proper
charm； as they scattered themselves over the ledges on the bright shawls
spread upon the level spaces。 On either hand craggy bluffs hemmed the
cove in； but below the ledge it had a pebbly beach strewn with drift…
wood； and the Bay of Fundy gloomed before it with small fishing craft
tipping and tilting on the swell in the foreground； and dim sail melting
into the dun fog bank at the horizon's edge。
The elder ladies of the party stood up； or stretched themselves on the
shawls； as they found this or that posture more restful after their long
drive； one； who was skilled in making coffee； had taken possession of the
pot； and was demanding fire and water for it。 The men scattered
themselves over the beach； and brought her drift enough to roast an ox；
two of them fetched water from the spring at the back of the ledge；
whither they then carried the bottles of ale to cool in its thrilling
pool。 Each after his or her fashion symbolised a return to nature by
some act or word of self…abandon。
〃You ought to have brought heavier shoes；〃 said Mrs。 Pasmer； with a
serious glance at her daughter's feet。 〃 Well； never mind；〃 she added。
〃It doesn't matter if you do spoil them。〃
〃Really；〃 cried Mrs Brinkley； casting her sandals from her； 〃I will not
be enslaved to rubbers in such a sylvan scene as this； at any rate。〃
〃Look at Mrs。 Stamwell！〃 said Miss Cotton。 〃She's actually taken her hat
off。〃
Mrs。 Stamwell had not only gone to this extreme； but had tied a lightly
fluttering handkerchief round her hair。 She said she should certainly
not put on that heavy thing again till she got in sight of civilisation。
At these words Miss Cotton boldly drew off her gloves； and put them in
her pocket。
The young girls； slim in their blues flannel skirts and their broad white
canvas belts； went and came over the rocks。 There were some children in
the party； who were allowed to scream uninterruptedly in the games which
they began to play as soon as they found their feet after getting out of
the wagons。
Some of the gentlemen drove a stake into the beach； and threw stones at
it； to see which could knock off the pebble balanced on its top。 Several
of the ladies joined them in the sport； and shrieked and laughed when
they made wild shots with the missiles the men politely gathered for
them。
Alice had remained with Mavering to help the hostess of the picnic lay
the tables； but her mother had followed those who went down to the beach。
At first Mrs。 Pasmer looked on at the practice of the stone…throwers with
disapproval； but suddenly she let herself go in this； as she did in other
matters that her judgment condemned； and began to throw stones herself；
she became excited； and made the wildest shots of any； accepting missiles
right and left； and making herself dangerous to everybody within a wide
circle。 A gentleman who had fallen a victim to her skill said； 〃Just
wait； Mrs。 Pasmer； till I get in front of the stake。〃
The men became seriously interested； and worked themselves red and hot；
the ladies soon gave it up； and sat down on the sand and began to talk。
They all owned themselves hungry； and from time to time they looked up
anxiously at the preparations for lunch on the ledge； where white napkins
were spread； with bottles at the four corners to keep them from blowing
away。 This use of the bottles was considered very amusing； the ladies
tried to make jokes about it； and the desire to be funny spread to
certain of the men who had quietly left off throwing at the stake because
they had wrenched their shoulders； they succeeded in being merry。 They
said they thought that coffee took a long time to boil。
A lull of expectation fell upon all； even Mavering sat down on the rocks
near the fire； and was at rest a few minutes； by order of Miss Anderson；
who said that the sight of his activity tired her to death。
〃I wonder why always boiled ham at a picnic！〃 said the lady who took a
final plate of it from a basket。 〃Under the ordinary conditions； few of
us can be persuaded to touch it。〃
〃It seems to be dear to nature； and to nature's children；〃 said Mrs。
Brinkley。 〃Perhaps because their digestions are strong。〃
〃Don't you wish that something could be substituted for it？〃 asked Miss。
Cotton。
〃There have been efforts to replace it with chicken and tongue in
sandwiches；〃 said Mrs。 Brinkley； 〃but I think they've only measurably
succeededabout as temperance drinks have in place of the real strong
waters。〃
〃On the boat coming up；〃 said Mavering； 〃we had a troupe of genuine darky
minstrels。 One of them sang a song about ham that rather took me
〃'Ham； good old ham！
Ham is de best ob meat；
It's always good and sweet；
You can bake it； you can boil it；
You can fry it； you can broil it
Ham； good old ham！'〃
〃Oh； how good！〃 sighed Mrs。 Brinkley。 〃How sincere！ How native！ Go on；
Mr。 Mavering； for ever。〃
〃I haven't the materials；〃 said Mavering； with his laugh。 〃The rest was
da capo。 But there was another song； about a coloured lady〃
〃'Six foot high and eight foot round；
Holler ob her foot made a hole in de ground。'〃
〃Ah； that's an old friend；〃 said Mrs。 Brinkley。 〃I remember hearing of
that coloured lady when I was a girl。 But it's a fine flight of the
imagination。 What else did they sing？〃
〃I can't remember。 But there was something they dancedto show how a
rheumatic old coloured uncle dances。〃
He jumped nimbly up； and sketched the stiff and limping figure he had
seen。 It was over in a flash。 He dropped down again； laughing。