Old Man
Fewkes said they named him this because a well-read man had told them it
might give him force of character; but it failed. He was a harmless
little chap, and there was nothing bad about him except that he was
addicted to inventions. When they came into camp that day he was
explaining to Celebrate a plan for catching wild geese with fish-hooks
baited with corn, and that evening came to me to see if he couldn't
borrow a long fish-line.
"I can ketch meat for a dozen outfits with it," he said, "if I can
borrow a fish-hook."
Walking along behind the wagon came the fifth member of the family,
Rowena, a girl of seventeen. She went several rods behind the wagon, and
as they rushed and plodded along according to old Tom's temper, I
noticed that she rambled over the prairie a good deal picking flowers;
and you would hardly have thought to look at her that she belonged to
the Fewkes outfit at all. I guess that was the way she wanted it to
look. She was as vigorous as the others were limpsey and boneless; and
there was in her something akin to the golden plovers that were running
in hundreds that morning over the prairies--I haven't seen one for
twenty-five years! That is, she skimmed over the little knolls rather
than walked, as if made of something lighter than ordinary human clay.
Her dress was ragged, faded, and showed through the tears in it a
tattered quilted petticoat, and she wore no bonnet or hat; but carried
in, her hand a boy's cap--which, according to the notions harbored by us
then, it would have been immodest for her to wear.
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