"You are the same old Martine," cried Peggy, as they turned away, while Priscilla, reddening, added as the two walked on, "Oh, Martine, how silly you can be!" Amy was delighted with everything that they saw in the course of that morning walk, from the beautiful view of the Basin, surrounded by hills that looked mountains, to the little fish-houses, the quintessence of neatness, in front of which quantities of cod were drying. As to the Basin, when she said she felt as though she had seen it before, Mrs. Redmond reminded her that it resembled closely the harbor of Santiago, with which she was familiar through pictures. "Ah, yes," rejoined Amy, "and that little opening into the Bay of Fundy that they call 'The Gut' is like the passage where Hobson tried to sink the Merrimac." "It isn't such a very little passage; somebody told me that it is nearly a mile wide; it was there that the ships of De Monts entered the Basin in 1604, when they discovered Acadia," Mrs. Redmond added. "Sixteen hundred and four!" cried Martine. "Oh, dear, we're going backwards in our history. It was seventeen hundred and something when the Acadians were expelled, and I shall never be able to remember earlier dates." "At present we may put dates aside. For a day or two we can merely enjoy ourselves." "I hope we are coming to some English history," said Priscilla; "I am tired of the French. I always supposed Nova Scotia was a British province, but this whole week we have heard very little about the English." "I tell you what we'll do, Priscilla," cried Amy; "while mamma and Martine sit here to make a sketch of something or other, you and I can set out in search of some English history. Undoubtedly there's an historic house or two to discover. That's the kind of thing I never let escape me." At first it seemed as if Amy's search would be unsuccessful. One person after another whom she asked said that there were no historic houses in Digby. "There's an old shop over across the way," one added, "the frame of which, they say, was brought out from England; I'll point it out to you, though it doesn't look very old." This last statement was true enough, for the old house had been reshingled and reclapboarded and repainted, so that it retained hardly a vestige of antiquity in its appearance. To compensate Amy for her disappointment, the obliging native made a suggestion that in the end proved valuable. "What you ought to do is to see Mrs. Sally Tatem; her house isn't much to look at, but it's old enough, and she knows more about the history of Digby than any one else here." "Where does she live?" "Oh, just a little way up that street and round the next corner and up the hill and you will see a little cottage at the end of the lane; just knock at the door, and if she's at home she'll be very obliging."