gives the first squeak, I sets right deown with 'er and examines of
'er, and then I takes a swab-cloth and I swabs her.
Forced-to-go--'specially ef she ain't iled--never gits far, ye know."

O delicious sound of uncorrupted philosophy once more!

Mrs. Leezur came out to welcome me, and sat on the doorstep near. She
was chopping salt codfish in a tray for dinner. When her knife struck
a bone, she put on her glasses, and after deliberate and kindly
research extracted it.

"Did ye hear anything from Jaffy?" said the mellow, glad voice of
Captain Leezur.

"I'm inclined to think what you heard was true, captain. It seems to
be confirmed from every source; she is gone."

"Thar' neow! I told 'em 't you'd make inquiries. I could see, says I,
when I was talkin' to him 'beout it, 't he'd got waked up to more 'n
common interest in the subjec'. Wal, I'm glad on 't; she'd sot there
so long neow--didn't ye hit a bone then, mother? Seounded kind o' as
though ye struck a bone, but mebbe 'twas only the bottom o' the tray."

"We've been threatenin' to clean dooryard," said Mrs. Leezur, looking
about on a scene that demanded no more particular explanation.

"Thar' 's three times," said Captain Leezur, "that I've had them bresh
'n' things all hove up into piles, 'n' every time the wind 's raked in
and swep' 'em areound all over the farmimunt ag'in."

"Perhaps, father," said Mrs. Leezur, in a mildly suggestive tone, as
far from sarcasm as heaven is from earth; "perhaps, if 't when you'd
got 'em up in piles, you'd keeried of 'em off, they wouldn't 'a' got
swep' areound ag'in."

"Wal, I don' know 's they would, mother; but it 's been a dreadful busy
time o' year, ye know," said Captain Leezur, mellifluously. "Didn't ye
strike a bone then, mother? Seounded 's though ye run afoul of a bone,
but mebbe, arfter all, 'twas only the bottom o' the tray."

"I like the yard," I said. "I wouldn't like to miss those--things."

"I guess you're kind o' like that artis' that was here, 't was so
keeried away with the picturusque. He run afeoul o' a couple o' old
sheep o' mine up on the headlan's somewheres, an' spent a 'tarnal three
months a-paintin' of 'em deown onto some canvarss. I told 'im, says I,
'Thar'!' says I, 'I'm glad to see them sheep put somewheres 't they'll
stay,' says I. 'It'll be the first time in existence 't they hain't
broke fence,' says I. 'I'm r'a'ly obleeged to ye. I hain't seen the
livin' presence o' them sh