boat; to catch minnows in; to put over honey-bees’ nests, and to transport pebbles, strawberries, and hens’ eggs.  John usually carried a sling in his hand, or a bow, or a limber stick, sharp at one end, from which he could sling apples a great distance.  If he walked in the road, he walked in the middle of it, shuffling up the dust; or if he went elsewhere, he was likely to be running on the top of the fence or the stone wall, and chasing chipmunks.

John knew the best place to dig sweet-flag in all the farm; it was in a meadow by the river, where the bobolinks sang so gayly.  He never liked to hear the bobolink sing, however, for he said it always reminded him of the whetting of a scythe, and that reminded him of spreading hay; and if there was anything he hated, it was spreading hay after the mowers.  “I guess you would n’t like it yourself,” said John, “with the stubbs getting into your feet, and the hot sun, and the men getting ahead of you, all you could do.”

Towards evening, once, John was coming along the road home with some stalks of the sweet-flag in his hand; there is a succulent pith in the end of the stalk which is very good to eat,—­tender, and not so strong as the root; and John liked to pull it, and carry home what he did not eat on the way.  As he was walking along he met a carriage, which stopped opposite to him; he also stopped and bowed, as country boys used to bow in John’s day.  A lady leaned from the carriage, and said: 

“What have you got, little boy?”

She seemed to be the most beautiful woman John had ever seen; with light hair, dark, tender eyes, and the sweetest smile.  There was that in her gracious mien and in her dress which reminded John of the beautiful castle ladies, with whom he was well acquainted in books.  He felt that he knew her at once, and he also seemed to be a sort of young prince himself.  I fancy he did n’t look much like one.  But of his own appearance he thought not at all, as he replied to the lady’s question, without the least embarrassment: 

“It’s sweet-flag stalk; would you like some?”

“Indeed, I should like to taste it,” said the lady, with a most winning smile.  “I used to be very fond of it when I was a little girl.”

John was delighted that the lady should like sweet-flag, and that she was pleased to accept it from him.  He thought himself that it was about the best thing to eat he knew.  He handed up a large bunch of it.  The lady took two or three stalks, and was about to return the rest, when John said: 

“Please keep it all, ma’am.  I can get lots more.”

“I know where it’s ever so thick.”

“Thank you, thank you,” said the lady; and as the carriage started, she reached out her hand to John.  He did not understand the motion, until he saw a cent drop in the road at his feet.  Instantly all his illusion and his pleasure vanished.  Something like tears were in his eyes as he shouted: