THE RANDALL FAMILY 95
down from Bethlehem through the White Mountain Notch, and walking back through Bartlett and Jackson to Gorham, where we took the railway train to return. On the walk from Jackson to Gorham, the road was fright- fully and continuously muddy, to the depth of some inches. In the discomfort of tramping through this Ser- bonian bog, we lost our tempers a little, separated, and for some hours splashed through the mire one behind the other, he in front and I some rods behind. I dare say the fault was wholly mine. When we reached the Glen House, we were on our usual terms, and neither of us ever referred to the matter again. That was our first, last, and only quarrel. Not a bad record that for a friendship of two score years !
But there never was and never could have been any excuse for quarrelling with John Randall, who, rigid as steel in resisting aggression or encroachment, was even painfully conscientious in refraining from disregard of the infinite or infinitesimal rights of others. If ever anybody loved justice more than his profit or his pleasure or even his whims, he was certainly the man ; and his sym- pathy for all who suffered, whether justly or unjustly, was quick and active even to the verge of weakness. That is, he not only refused to take revenge on any man, but even to inflict deserved penalties on poor or distressed offenders. I used to wonder at his leniency towards former agents of his who had cheated him in the management of his farm, especially in cutting down woods he loved and would have spared, and putting the proceeds into their own pockets. But he checked my indignation by saying he pitied them because they were poor as well as mean, and really in need of money for the sake of their families. In truth, fierce as he was against opposition from the
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