Francis Hopkinson Smith,
The Man In The High-Water Boots
“ We had started for the mill now, the Man from the Quarter lugging the boots, still hoping there might be some truth in the trout story, the Sculptor with the palette (big as a tea-tray) , Knight with the ladder, and I with the wet canvas. Again the cry rang out: “Marie! Marie!” and again the old woman started on a run—for the kitchen this time (she had been listening for this halloo—he generally came in wringing wet) —reappearing as we reached the hall door, her apron full of clothes swept from a drying line stretched before the big, all-embracing fireplace. ”
