\"ItlooksallrightonthecolumbinesintheIndianCellar，\"
repliedPatty，turningandtwistingthehatonherhead。\"Ifwecan’tgetapeekattheBostonfashions，wemustjustfindourstyleswherewecan！\"
ThevariousroadstoToryHillwerealivewithvehiclesonthisbrightSundaymorning。UncleBartandAbelDay，withtheirrespectivewivesonthebackseatoftheCole’sdoublewagon，werepassedbyDeaconBaxterandhisdaughters，Waitstillbeingdueatmeetingearlierthanothersbyreasonofhersinginginthechoir。TheDeacon’sone—horse，two—wheeled\"shay\"couldholdthreepersons，withcomfortonitsbroadseat，andthetwenty—year—oldmare，althoughshewasalwaysashollowasagourd，couldgenerallydothemile，uphillalltheway，inhalfanhour，ifurgedcontinually，andtheDeacon，beitsaid，ifnotgoodatfeeding，wasunsurpassedaturging。
AuntAbbyColecouldgetonlyapassingglimpseofPattyinthedepthsofthe\"shay，\"butaglimpsewasalwaysenoughforher，asheropinionofthegirl’scharmswasconsiderablyaffectedbytheforlornconditionofhersonCephas，whomshesuspectedofbeinghopelesslyinlovewiththeyoungpersonaforesaid，towhomshecommonlyalludedas\"thatred—headedbag—gage。\"
\"PatienceBaxter’sgotthekindoflooksthatmightdowellenoughatataverndance，orahusking，butthey’reentirelyunsuitedtotheSabbathdayorthemeetin’—house，\"soAuntAbbyremarkedtoMrs。Dayinthewayofbackseatconfidence。\"It’sunfortunatethatadeacon’sdaughtershouldbeafflictedwiththatboldstyleofbeauty！Herhair’sallbutred；infact，youmightaswellcallitred，whenthesunshinesonit：butifshe’deversmackitdownwithbear’sgreaseshemightdarkenitsome；oranyhowshe’dmakeitlayslicker；butit’sthekindofhairthatjustmatchesthatkindofagirl，——sortofupan’