Why not take seats here on the cellar wall And dangle feet among the raspberry vines?" "Under the shelter of the family tree." "Just so--that ought to be enough protection." "Not from the rain. I think it's going to rain." "It's raining." "No, it's misting; let's be fair. Does the rain seem to you to cool the eyes?" The situation was like this: the road Bowed outward on the mountain half-way up, And disappeared and ended not far off. No one went home that way. The only house Beyond where they were was a shattered seedpod. And below roared a brook hidden in trees, The sound of which was silence for the place. This he sat listening to till she gave judgment. "On father's side, it seems, we're--let me see----" "Don't be too technical.--You have three cards." "Four cards, one yours, three mine, one for each branch Of the Stark family I'm a member of." "D'you know a person so related to herself Is supposed to be mad." "I may be mad." "You look so, sitting out here in the rain Studying genealogy with me You never saw before. What will we come to With all this pride of ancestry, we Yankees? I think we're all mad. Tell me why we're here Drawn into town about this cellar hole Like wild geese on a lake before a storm? What do we see in such a hole, I wonder." "The Indians had a myth of Chicamoztoc, Which means The Seven Caves that We Came out of. This is the pit from which we Starks were digged." "You must be learned. That's what you see in it?" "And what do you see?" "Yes, what do I see? First let me look. I see raspberry vines----" "Oh, if you're going to use your eyes, just hear What I see. It's a little, little boy, As pale and dim as a match flame in the sun; He's groping in the cellar after jam, He thinks it's dark and it's flooded with daylight." "He's nothing. Listen. When I lean like this I can make out old Grandsir Stark distinctly,-- With his pipe in his mouth and his brown jug-- Bless you, it isn't Grandsir Stark, it's Granny, But the pipe's there and smoking and the jug. She's after cider, the old girl, she's thirsty; Here's hoping she gets her drink and gets out safely." "Tell me about her. Does she look like me?" "She should, shouldn't she, you're so many times Over descended from her. I believe She does look like you. Stay the way you are. The nose is just the same, and so's the chin-- Making allowance, making due allowance." "You poor, dear, great, great, great, great Granny!" "See that you get her greatness right. Don't stint her." "Yes, it's important, though you think it isn't. I won't be teased. But see how wet I am." "Yes, you must go; we can't stay here for ever. But wait until I give you a hand up. A bead of silver water more or less