obliged to make one circuit of the track before
he could control his steeds, but the triumphal rush down the length
of the yelling grand-stand was an ovation that Cap'n Sproul did not
relish. He concealed the hateful plug hat between his knees, and
scowled straight ahead.

Parrott did not go back after the Honorable Bickford.

The loyal and apologetic Kitchen assisted that gentleman to rise,
brushed off his clothes--what were left of them--and carried him to
"Bickburn Towers" in his buggy, with Hector wagging sociably in the
dust behind.

Mr. Bickford fingered the ragged edge of his severed coat-tails, and
kept his thoughts to himself during his ride.

When the old lady Sampson called at the Towers next day with a
subscription paper to buy a carpet for the Baptist vestry, James
informed her that Mr. Bickford had gone out West to look after his
business interests.

When Hiram Look set Cap'n Aaron Sproul down at his door that afternoon
he emphasized the embarrassed silence that had continued during the
ride by driving away without a word. Equally as saturnine, Cap'n
Sproul walked through his dooryard, the battered plug hat in his hand,
paying no heed to the somewhat agitated questions of his wife. She
watched his march into the corn-field with concern.

She saw him set the hat on the head of a scarecrow whose construction
had occupied his spare hours, and in which he felt some little pride.
But after surveying the result a moment he seemed to feel that he
had insulted a helpless object, for he took the hat off, spat into
it, and kicked it into shapeless pulp. Then he came back to the house
and grimly asked his wife if she had anything handy to take the poison
out of hornet stings.

XIII

In Newry, on the glorious Fourth of July, the Proud Bird of Freedom
wears a red shirt, a shield hat, and carries a speaking-trumpet
clutched under one wing. From the court-house--Newry is the county's
shire town--across to the post-office is stretched the well-worn
banner:

WELCOME TO THE COUNTY'S
BRAVE FIRE-LADDIES

That banner pitches the key for Independence Day in Newry. The shire
patriotically jangles her half-dozen bells in the steeples at
daylight in honor of Liberty, and then gives Liberty a stick of candy
and a bag of peanuts, and tells her to sit in the shade and keep her
eye out sharp for the crowding events of the annual firemen's muster.
This may be a cavalier way of treating Liberty, but perhap