son, instead of standin' and gawkin' at me?" she suddenly
exclaimed, glaring at Sam.

"I didn't know as you was ready," said Sam. "You might have been out
before this, ef you hadn't let go. Here, Pomp, lend a hand." Pomp shook
his head decisively.

"Don't catch dis chile again," he said. "I'm goin' home. Ole woman wants
to lick me."

Sam endeavored to persuade Pomp, but he was deaf to persuasion. He
squatted down on the snow, and watched the efforts his companion made to
extricate the old lady. When she was nearly out he started on a run, and
was at a safe distance before Mrs. Payson was in a situation to pursue
him.

The old lady shook herself to make sure that no bones were broken. Next,
she sent Sam down into the hole to pick up her bag, and then, finding,
on a careful examination, that she had recovered everything, even to the
blue umbrella, fetched the astonished Sam a rousing box on the ear.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded in an aggrieved tone.

"'Taint half as much as you deserve," said the old lady. "I'm goin' to
your house right off, to tell your mother what you've been a-doin'. Ef
you was my child, I'd beat you black and blue."

"I wish I'd left you down there," muttered Sam.

"What's that?" demanded Mrs. Payson sharply. "Don't you go to bein'
sassy. It'll be the wuss for ye. You'll come to the gallows some time,
ef you don't mind your p's and q's. I might 'ave stayed there till I
died, an' then you'd have been hung."

"What are, you jawing about?" retorted Sam. "How could I know you was
comin'?"

"You know'd it well enough," returned the old lady. "You'll bring your
mother's gray hairs with sorrer to the grave."

"She ain't got any gray hairs," said Sam doggedly.

"Well, she will have some, ef she lives long enough. I once know'd a boy
just like you, an' he was put in jail for stealin'."

"I ain't a-goin to stay and be jawed that way," said Sam. "You won't
catch me pulling you out of a hole again. I wouldn't have you for a
grandmother for all the world. Tom Baldwin told me, only yesterday, that
you was always a-hectorin' him."

Tom Baldwin was the son of Cynthy Ann, and consequently old Mrs.
Payson's grandson.

"Did Tom Baldwin tell you that?" demanded the old lady abruptly, looking
deeply incensed.

"Yes, he did."

"Well, he's the ungratefullest cub that I ever sot eyes on," exclaimed
his indignant grandmother. "Arter all I've done for him. I'm knittin' a
pair of socks for him