University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
UNCLE AMOS AND AUNT POLLY.

Many years ago, before I was born, or you either, perchance,
gentle reader, there lived, far away among the tall
mountains of New England, a sturdy farmer, Uncle Amos
Carey, and his good wife Polly. This worthy couple,
who seemed to be every body's uncle and aunt, were
known for many miles around, and their “old red house
among the mountains” was long the rendezvous for all
the young mountaineers, who, with their rosy cheeked
lasses, congregated there on all “great days,” and on many
days which were not great.

There was some strong attraction about that low, red
building. Perhaps it was because the waters of the well
which stood in the rear were colder, or the grass in the
little yard was greener, and the elm trees and lilac bushes
taller there than elsewhere. Or it might have been because
Aunt Polly was deeply skilled in the mysteries of
fortune-telling, by means of teacups and tea-grounds.

Many a time might the good dame have been seen, surrounded
by half a dozen girls, all listening eagerly, while
Aunt Polly, with a dolefully grave expression about her

long nose, peered into some teacup, in the bottom of
which lay a mass of tea-leaves in helter-skelter form.
Slowly and solemnly would she unfold the shining future
to some bright-eyed maiden, whose heart beat faster as
the thoughts of a rich husband, fine house, and more
dresses than she knew what to do with, were presented
to her imagination. At other times, the end of Aunt
Polly's nose would perceptibly flatten, and her voice would
become fearfully low, as, with an ominous shake of her
head, she dove into the teacup of some luckless wight,
who was known to have pilfered her grapes and plundered
her water-melon patch! On such occasions, dreadful was
the fortune given to the unfortunate offender. A broken
heart, broken leg, and most likely a broken neck, were
awarded to him for his delinquencies.

Notwithstanding these occasional ill fortunes, Aunt
Polly was a great favorite with the young folks, who, as
we have said, were frequent visitors at “the old red house
among the mountains.”