"I think the longest night of my life was spent in that house about sixteen years ago. It's the only house I was ever in where there was nothing at all to read. There wasn't even an almanac." Mary laughed. "An almanac is a great deal better than nothing, my dear. I found that out once upon a time when I had to stay in a house for several hours where there was just one almanac and not another printed page. I read the jokes two or three times till they began to pall and then set to work on the signs. I'll always have a regard for them because they gave me a lift through those tedious hours." They were not far from the western edge of the piece of woodland they were traversing and all about them was the soft red light of the setting sun. They could see the sun himself away off through the straight and solemn trunks of the trees. A mile farther on Mary uttered a sudden exclamation of delight. "See that lovely bittersweet!" "I see, but don't ask me to stop and get you some." "I won't, but I'll ask you to stop and let _me_ get some." "I wouldn't bother about it. You'll have to scramble over that ditch and up the bank--" "I've scrambled over worse things in my life," she said, springing from the buggy and picking her way down the intervening ditch. The bright red berries in their flaring yellow hoods were beautiful. She began breaking off the branches. When she had gathered a large bunch and was turning toward the buggy she saw a vehicle containing two women approaching from the opposite direction. There was a ditch on either side of the road which, being narrow at this point, made passing a delicate piece of work. The doctor drew his horse to one side so that the wheels of the buggy rested on the very brink and waited for them to pass; he saw that there was room with perhaps a foot or two to spare. On came the travelers and--the front wheels of the two vehicles were locked in a close embrace. For a minute the doctor did some vigorous thinking and then he climbed out of the buggy. It was a trying position. He could not say all of the things he wanted to--it would not be polite; neither did he want to act as if it were nothing because Mary might not understand the extent of the mischief she had caused and how much out of humor he was with her. It would be easier if she were only out of hearing instead of looking at him across the ditch with apologetic eyes. The doctor's horse began to move uneasily but the other stood perfectly still. "He's used to this sort of thing, perhaps," said the doctor with as little sarcasm as possible. "Yes, we have run into a good many buggies and things," said one of the women, cheerfully.