So the joke is on ourselves , after all . '' But , as you and I know , that , with the exception of the last sentence , was not the truth of the matter at all . The Penningtons ' Girl Winslow had been fishing -- or pretending to -- all the morning , and he was desperately thirsty . He boarded with the Beckwiths on the Riverside East Shore , but he was nearer Riverside West , and he knew the Penningtons well . He had often been there for bait and milk and had listened times out of mind to Mrs. Pennington 's dismal tales of her tribulations with hired girls . She never could get along with them , and they left , on an average , after a fortnight 's trial . She was on the lookout for one now , he knew , and would likely be cross , but he thought she would give him a drink . He rowed his skiff into the shore and tied it to a fir that hung out from the bank . A winding little footpath led up to the Pennington farmhouse , which crested the hill about three hundred yards from the shore . Winslow made for the kitchen door and came face to face with a girl carrying a pail of water -- Mrs. Pennington 's latest thing in hired girls , of course . Winslow 's first bewildered thought was `` What a goddess ! '' and he wondered , as he politely asked for a drink , where on earth Mrs. Pennington had picked her up . She handed him a shining dipper half full and stood , pail in hand , while he drank it . She was rather tall , and wore a somewhat limp , faded print gown , and a big sunhat , beneath which a glossy knot of chestnut showed itself . Her skin was very fair , somewhat freckled , and her mouth was delicious . As for her eyes , they were grey , but beyond that simply defied description . `` Will you have some more ? '' she asked in a soft , drawling voice . `` No , thank you . That was delicious .
Is Mrs. XXXXX home ? ''
Beckwiths Pennington Shore Winslow first fortnight left morning sunhat tribulations