Annie Trumbull Slosson

FISHIN' JIMMY It was on the margin of Pond Brook, just back of Uncle Eben's, thatI first saw Fishin' Jimmy. It was early June, and we were again atFranconia, that peaceful little village among the northern hills. The boys, as usual, were tempting the trout with false fly or real worm, and I was roaming along the bank, seeking spring flowers, and hunting early butterflies and moths.... more...

Story-Tell Lib That was what everybody in the little mountain village called her. Her real name, as she often told me, ringing out each syllable proudly in her shrill sweet voice, was Elizabeth Rowena Marietta York. A stately name, indeed, for the little crippled, stunted, helpless creature, and I myself could never think of her by any name but the one the village people used, Story-tell Lib. I had... more...