th soft paper an' put it in a box, an' I paid for't an' moseyed
along up home, feelin' that ev'ry man, woman, an' child had their eyes
on my parcel, but thinkin' how tickled my wife would be."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

The road they were on was a favorite drive with the two men, and at the
point where they had now arrived David always halted for a look back and
down upon the scene below them--to the south, beyond the intervening
fields, bright with maturing crops, lay the village; to the west the
blue lake, winding its length like a broad river, and the river itself a
silver ribbon, till it was lost beneath the southern hills.

Neither spoke. For a few minutes John took in the scene with the
pleasure it always afforded him, and then glanced at his companion, who
usually had some comment to make upon anything which stirred his
admiration or interest. He was gazing, not at the landscape, but
apparently at the top of the dashboard. "Ho, hum," he said,
straightening the reins, with a "clk" to the horses, and they drove
along for a while in silence--so long, in fact, that our friend, while
aware that the elder man did not usually abandon a topic until he had
"had his say out," was moved to suggest a continuance of the narrative
which had been rather abruptly broken off, and in which he had become
considerably interested.

"Was your wife pleased?" he asked at last.

"Where was I?" asked the other in return.

"You were on your way home with your purchase," was the reply.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Harum resumed. "It was a little after tea time when I got
to the house, an' I thought prob'ly I'd find her in the settin' room
waitin' fer me; but she wa'n't, an' I went up to the bedroom to find
her, feelin' a little less sure o' things. She was settin' lookin' out
o' winder when I come in, an' when I spoke to her she didn't give me no
answer except to say, lookin' up at the clock, 'What's kept ye like
this?'

"'Little matter o' bus'nis,' I says, lookin' as smilin' 's I knew how,
an' holdin' the box behind me.

"'What you got there?' she says, slewin' her head 'round to git a sight
at it.

"'Little matter o' bus'nis,' I says agin, bringin' the box to the front
an' feelin' my face straighten out 's if you'd run a flat iron over it.
She seen the name on the paper.

"'You ben spendin' your time there, have ye?' she says, settin' up in
her chair an' pointin' with her finger at the box. '_That's_ where you
ben the last half hour, hangi