when the weather is cold, and a body is weakly, as Tom is now;
it's so easy to rest upon. There, Eliza, you may pass me the one that
is picked, and I'll dress it. How fat it is! and so tender! What a
feast we shall have! How thankful we ought to be that Tom's eyes were
not put out when he shot these hens! How good he was to think of
getting them for us! I hope, girls, you'll help him all you can, when
he gets about, and not let him do all the chores."

Mrs. Jones was very handy at such work, and she took care to face the
bed so that he might see every part of the operation.

"There's the heart, and there's the liver--sweet as a nut!" and she
smelled of them with the air of an epicure. "We must keep them by
themselves for the present." Then, deftly jointing the fowl, she put
the parts to soak in cold water, strongly salted. "That will take out
the _wild_ taste," said she. "How I do wish Tom could eat some of this
when it is cooked, it will be so strengthening! But I guess, if
nothing happens, the doctor will let him have a taste to-morrow!"

CHAPTER III.

WHERE CAN HE BE?--A HEART REVELATION.

"Where can he be?" sighed Mrs. Jones, as she looked anxiously out of
the little cabin window. Many times a day had she done the same, save
that she _thought_ the question, but did not utter it, as now. Her
husband had been away for more than a week, and no tidings from him.
What could it mean? When would he return? Had any evil befallen him?
These and similar inquiries were continually arising in her mind,
filling her with disquiet. She was one of those singularly-constituted
persons who are given to presentiments, and who, when they are under
the spell of a deep, controlling conviction that something unusual is
to transpire,--a persuasion that comes to them, not through reason or
evidence, or the probabilities of things, but, as some express it, "as
if a voice had spoken to them" when no human being was near, or by a
secret whispering to the soul by some unseen and seemingly superhuman
authority,--when she had such a presentiment it never deceived her.
For some time she had foreboded trouble. The foreboding grew upon her
till its dark shadow cast a gloom upon all her feelings; it thrilled
her at times with fear. She would start at the veriest trifles, as if
affrighted. Particularly at night did she cower under the feeling, and
of late it had been hard for her to sleep; and when she slept, it was
wakefully: often would