them were a few spring beauties in bud; the roots were wet and slippery - I felt my hands growing numb & I could feel myself slipping - I cannot go up this way, I thot, but can I go down again?
      The next moment I was standing in the alley back of our home in Salem; a young man was coming toward me; he had formerly been our Hall’s Bakery man at Gardenville, but I could not think of his name, he greeted me effusively, & I knew he expected me to make a fuss over him, which I did. We were suddenly back again to the former scene, we were at the top of the hill now, looking down into a deep ravine thru which ran a stream swollen with melting snow. A third man was with us, whom I did not know. All at once I felt the cliff on which we were standing tremble; with a warning cry I sprang back, and just in time one foot was on the great mass of rock and earth which loosened by the winters frost was breaking away, the stranger leaped to safety too, but the Hall’s Man was caught and went hurtling through the air. Horrified we saw him strike a deep pool of crystal clear water. At first I thought he was unharmed and was going to clamber out, but he sank motionless to the bottom.
We hurried down and I waded into the icy water, and dragged him to the bank where the stranger helped me to pull him out. There was, oddly enough, a discarded cobbler’s bench lying on the bank over which I placed him to try & get the water from him. We finally, each taking a leg, turned him upside down. The water flowed freely from his mouth, and presently he opened his eyes, in a dazed