f a
book, kneeling, bowing, and changing gowns, is religion! Thank
Heaven, I'm pretty indifferent to the opinions of such people.
Harkee, Jenny; if I thought I was no better than some persons I could
name, I'd give the point of salvation up, in despair!"

"Miss Abbott," roared a rugged, dirty-faced, bare-footed boy, who
entered without knocking, and stood in the middle of the room, with
his hat on, with a suddenness that denoted great readiness in
entering other people's possessions; "Miss Abbott, ma' wants to know
if you are likely to go from home this week?"

"Why, what in nature can she want to know that for, Ordeal Bumgrum?"
Mrs. Abbott pronounced this singular name, however, "Ordeel."

"Oh! she _warnts_ to know."

"So do I _warnt_ to know; and know I will. Run home this instant, and
ask your mother why she has sent you here with this message. Jenny, I
am much exercised to find out the reason Mrs. Bumgrum should have
sent Ordeal over with such a question."

"I did hear that Miss Bumgrum intended to make a journey herself, and
she may want your company."

"Here comes Ordeal back, and we shall soon be out of the clouds. What
a boy that is for errands. He is worth all my sons put together. You
never see him losing time by going round by the streets, but away he
goes over the garden fences like a cat, or he will whip through a
house, if standing in his way, as if he were its owner, should the
door happen to be open. Well, Ordeal?"

But Ordeal was out of breath, and although Jenny shook him, as if to
shake the news out of him, and Mrs. Abbott actually shook her fist,
in her impatience to be enlightened, nothing could induce the child
to speak, until he had recovered his wind.

"I believe he does it on purpose," said the provoked maid.

"It's just like him!" cried the mistress; "the very best news-carrier
in the village is actually spoilt because he is thick-winded."

"I wish folks wouldn't make their fences so high," Ordeal exclaimed,
the instant he found breath. "I can't see of what use it is to make a
fence people can't climb!"

"What does your mother say?" cried Jenny repeating her shake, _con
amore_.

"Ma, wants to know, Miss Abbott, if you don't intend to use it
yourself, if you will lend her your name for a few days, to go to
Utica with? She says folks don't treat her half as well when she is
called Bumgrum, as when she has another name, and she thinks she'd
like to try yours, this time."

"Is tha