l garment, apparently cut by one pattern and not
at all according to the wearer's years or length of limb, tumbled forth
from their shelter.

"Sho', Polly, he's senseless! But you dress and come here quick. Now,
you young folks, don't you tetch him!" for the six small Cavendishes,
excited beyond measure, were crowding and shoving for a nearer sight of
Yancy. They began to pelt their father with questions. Who was it? Sho',
in the river? Sho', all cut up like that--who'd cut him? Had he hurt
himself? Was he throwed in? When did pop fish him out? Was he dead? Why
did he lay like that and not move or speak--sho'! This and much more
was flung at Mr. Cavendish all in one breath, and each eager questioner
seized him by the hand, the dangling sleeve of his shirt, or his
trousers--they clutched him from all sides. "I never seen such a
family!" said Mr. Cavendish helplessly. "Now, you-all shut up, or I 'low
I'll lay into you!"

Mrs. Cavendish's appearance created a diversion in his favor. The six
rushed on her tumultously. They seized her hands or struggled for a
fragment of her skirt to hold while they poured out their tale. Pop had
fished up a man--he'd been throwed in the river! Pop didn't know if he
was dead or not--he was all cut and bloody.

"I declare, I've a mind to skin you if you don't keep still! Miss
Constance," Polly addressed her eldest child, "I'm surprised at you! You
might be a heathen savage for all you got on your back--get into some
duds this instant!" Cavendish was on his knees again beside Yancy, and
Polly, by a determined effort, rid herself of the children. "Why, he's a
grand-looking man, ain't he?" she cried. "La, what a pity!"

"You can feel his heart beat, and he's bleeding some," said Cavendish.

"Let me see--just barely flutters, don't it? Henry, go mind the sweep
and see we don't get aground! Keppel, you start a fire and warm some
water! Connie, you tear up my other petticoat for bandages now, stir
around, all of you!" And then began a period of breathless activity.
They first lifted Yancy into the circle of illumination cast by the fire
Keppel had started on the hearth of flat stones before the shanties.
Then, with Constance to hold a pan of warm water, Mrs. Cavendish deftly
bathed the gaping wound in Yancy's shoulder where Murrell had driven his
knife. This she bandaged with strips torn from her petticoat. Next she
began on the ragged cut left by Slosson's club.

"He's got a right to be dead