fisherman first, an' a farmer afterward;" returned the deacon, grimly.

The real truth was that the deacon had an idea of the wonderful casket's
being hidden somewhere in that barn. As he reasoned with himself: "A
barn's the least likely place for robbers to search for hid treasure,
whether it is a gold box or a gold mine. Eunice, she is long-headed. She
wouldn't want things in the house that might induce folks' breakin's in,
more particular sence Widow Sprigg seen that tramp. She was tellin' me
'bout it when I come on the place this mornin'; an' nobody needn't tell
me it was just to get a girl out the bay that that winder was stove in.
That's all cock-an'-bull yarn; to throw me an' others off the track. But
I'll find out, I'll find out."

Which shows how far one's imagination may lead in the wrong direction;
and also explains why the curious, but well-meaning, man put himself to
endless trouble, yet also did his own part in silencing the rumors of
the previous day. Though, of course, his labors occupied him for several
days, since the barn was big and his work so thorough. After emptying
and refilling every bin and box, after cleaning every set of harness
which had or had not been used for years, brushing the few cobwebs from
the rafters, sweeping the floors over and over, he repaired to the
hay-mow and industriously forked over the whole mass.

While he was engaged in this operation Susanna visited the barn and
asked if he had gone crazy. His answer was:

"No, not crazy, but come to common sense. Don't suppose I'd feel very
Christian-like, do ye, to loaf around doin' next to nothin' an' lettin'
a neighbor's hay heat? Might burn ye all up in your beds."

The widow reentered the house laughing, but indignant. "Says your hay's
in danger o' heatin', Moses! As if you hadn't cured it till it was dry
as tinder 'fore you mowed it up. Well, 'twon't do no harm, an' will keep
him out of mischief. He's a reg'lar poke-noser, Deacon Meakin is. But
he's routed them hens so there won't be no more egg-layin' in high
places, breakin' a body's neck to hunt 'em. But, my suz! I wish you
could ha' seen that man's face when he handed me over your
fishin'-tackle. You'd ha' thought 'twas poison, the way he touched it."

Moses was both angry and amused, but contented himself with remarking:

"Si Meakin never could catch fish even when he was boy goin' to school.
He was always a gabbler, an' fish has got sense. They won't bite for
noisy