We hitched our team to the grasshopper spring wagon and set out on our journey. It was a warm, hazy Indian-summer day in November. My uncle looked very stiff and sober in his "new" clothes. Such breathless excitement as that I felt when we were riding down the hills and could see the distant spires of Canton, I have never known since that day. As we passed "the mill" we saw the Silent Woman looking out of the little window of her room above the blacksmith shop--a low, weather-stained, frame building, hard by the main road, with a narrow hanging stair on the side of it. "She keeps watch by the winder when she ain't travelin'," said Uncle Peabody. "Knows all that's goin' on--that woman--knows who goes to the village an' how long they stay. When Grimshaw goes by they say she hustles off down the road in her rags. She looks like a sick dog herself, but I've heard that she keeps that room o' hers just as neat as a pin." Near the village we passed a smart-looking buggy drawn by a spry-footed horse in shiny harness. Then I noticed with a pang that our wagon was covered with dry mud and that our horses were rather bony and our harnesses a kind of lead color. So I was in an humble state of mind when we entered the village. Uncle Peabody had had little to say and I had kept still knowing that he sat in the shadow of a great problem. There was a crowd of men and women in front of Mr. Wright's office and through its open door I saw many of his fellow townsmen. We waited at the door for a few minutes. I crowded in while Uncle Peabody stood talking with a villager. The Senator caught sight of me and came to my side and put his hand on my head and said: "Hello, Bart! How you've grown! and how handsome you look! Where's your uncle?" "He's there by the door," I answered. "Well, le's go and see him." Then I followed him out of the office. Mr. Wright was stouter and grayer and grander than when I had seen him last. He was dressed in black broadcloth and wore a big beaver hat and high collar and his hair was almost white. I remember vividly his clear, kindly, gray eyes and ruddy cheeks. "Baynes, I'm glad to see you," he said heartily. "Did ye bring me any jerked meat?" "Didn't think of it," said Uncle Peabody. "But I've got a nice young doe all jerked an' if you're fond o' jerk I'll bring ye down some to-morrer." "I'd like to take some to Washington but I wouldn't have you bring it so far." "I'd like to bring it--I want a chance to talk with ye for half an hour or such a matter," said my uncle. "I've got a little trouble on my hands."