"The beautiful summer of All Saints" was at its height, and the soft haze lay upon the blue hills and rested lightly over the meadows along the river. Such days were tempting enough to entice a hermit from his cell, and Mrs. Adams and the young people had agreed to devote Saturday afternoon to a long drive. Soon after their early lunch they had started off, Job leading the way, with Mrs. Adams, Jessie, Molly, and Jean, followed by Cob, the wiry little mustang that Mr. Shepard had sent East for his daughters' use, drawing Katharine, Florence, Polly, and Alan. Their destination was the nearer of the two mountains, a drive to the foot and then a scramble to the tip-top house, for the sake of one last look down upon the beautiful valley, before winter should shut it in. Unfortunately, Job was in one of his languid moods that day, and in spite of warning checks and flapping of lines, and even a mild application of the whip, he refused to break into a trot; but, with bowed head and discouraged mien, he plodded onward with as much apparent effort as if each motion of his aged frame were to be his last. In vain Katharine again and again reined in Cob, to wait for his companion; the old horse lagged farther and farther in the rear. At length Mrs. Adams called,-- "This is unbearable, Katharine! I am afraid we shall have to give up and go home. Job acts as if he couldn't crawl another step. I'm sorry," she added to her passengers, "to spoil our plan, but I dare not drive this old fellow any further, for fear he might never get home."