“Now ain’t it, dough, honey? And de most aggravokingest part if it is to think as I’m her lawful lord and marster, as she swore beore de holy altar to lub, honor and obey! But law! what’s de use o’ talking? De wimmen don’t ’member dem wows no longer’n dey get out’n de church! Leastways, I know Sereny didn’t! Purty way she lub me to pull all de ha’r out’n my head! Purty way she honor me to kick me out’n de house and slam de door and bolt it on me. And I her lord and marster! But you see, chile, dough I is her s’preme ruler, she’s de strongest ob de two, and dat’s de way she gets de better ob me! Now, I tell you what, Miss Em., if it should please de Lord to take Sereny, I think as I should be ’signed to His holy will, and I never would get another young wife to keep me warm in my ole age, ’cording to King David nor no other king! So dere, now! ’Cause de way dey hab o’ keepin’ you warm is by pummeling and scalpin’ of you, and I don’t like it! So no young cullered gal needn’t be coming arter me if ebber I’m a widderer ag’n! ’Deed and ’deed needn’t dey!” They had by this time reached the water’s edge, where the little boat lay moored and rocking. “Shall I put up de sail, Miss Em.? But dere ain’t a breaf ob breeze, neider!” said ’Sias as he began to unmoor. “Oh, no! We will row. You take the oars, I the tiller, and we shall skim the water like a bird,” said Em. “So we will, Miss Em., and won’t that be sociable?” cried old ’Sias gleefully as he threw the chain ashore and took up the oars and placed them in their rests. Em. nodded, entered the boat, seated herself, took the tiller and steered for the island. Old ’Sias laid himself sturdily to the oars, and the little boat sped on its way down the river. “Oh, how glorious this is in autumn!” exclaimed the girl, as, forgetting all her troubles in the moment, she gazed with enthusiastic delight on the magnificent scene before her. The mighty river, rolling on in calm strength to the sea; the lofty precipices on the left, with their gray rocks dappled with clumps of evergreen trees and parterres of variegated moss, and brightened by springs and fountains of sparkling water dancing down their sides and losing themselves in the river; the undulating, wooded hills on the right, now changing into all the most brilliant colors of the autumn foliage—crimson, orange, purple, golden, scarlet—all blended and contrasted on the shore, and reflected in the shining river; the distant island, midway between the banks, resting on the bosom of the river and looking in the autumn dress of its groves like an immense bouquet of gorgeous exotics. Em. sat and absorbed the beauty and glory of the scene into her soul, and never spoke again until they had reached the landing at Edengarden.