THE TOWN THAT LOST ITSELF
very air seemed ancient and somnolent, as we looked on the houses, built largely of logs, and observed that the inhabitants who came out to meet us were garbed in the styles of half a century back.
"‘I should say we are two scampish Rip Van Winkles and that this is a dress-rehearsal,' observed Tib, as he gravely bowed to an ancient master-piece whose face was covered with a luxuriant growth of breakfast-food.
"The white-whiskered tease eyed us in surprise, and at last asked:
"‘Not French? You must have wandered far from your course to get here.'
"Tib told him how we'd been fishing, and were strangers to the country; how we were tired of the world and would like to rest a bit.
"‘If you stay you'll go back and tell what you've seen, and a crowd of curious folks will be tramping up here to look us over,' objected a younger man.
"‘Silence, Reuben; let me talk to the strangers,' commanded grandpa, sternly, and the other slunk back abashed.
"I was surprised. The respect for gray hairs, I've noticed, is not as strong to-day as it was in the Rollo books.
"Then the old man drew Tib aside—I reckon he considered my striped shirt to be too frivolous—
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