One fine afternoon, in the spring of the year
when the water was high, two of her friends came to see her. They were
considered very fine young ladies. One was Miss Lucy Lord, the other I
will call nameless, but she is an old resident and lives near by. If at
any time this should meet her eye she will vouch for the truth of it.
They came to spend the afternoon with sister.
Of course (as all young men do, I believe) I felt a little flattered, and
thought, no doubt, one object of their visit was to see me. Whether my
humble self was once in all their thoughts, when they were making their
toilet that day or not, I gave them the credit of it. I thought I had
never seen one of them, at least, look any better than she did that
afternoon. Her hair was arranged very nicely and she was very graceful.
Of course, when my sister told me they wished very much for a boat ride,
I could not very well to refuse to go with them. I hoped to let them see
with how much skill I could manage my canoe. But alas for my skill! The
flat was covered with water from our little ridge to the creek, a
distance of twenty rods. It looked like a large river.
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