the sweetest children ever
lived. So, of course, though there are no houses near, I'm never
lonely. I'm busy, too, and to be busy is to be happy."

Jim wondered at the refined and cultured language of this isolated
countrywoman, until she explained, after a moment:

"I was a school teacher before we were married and we brought several
books with us here. I teach the children now, instead of a larger
school, and they're so bright! I'll have them recite to you in the
morning."

"What does Mr. Stillwell do, your husband, to tire him, so't he needs
the woods to rest him? Does he farm it?"

He had no sooner spoken the words than he was sorry; remembering the
description of himself that Corny had given on their way out. And he
was the more disturbed because his hostess left the question
unanswered. In the silence of the room he began to grow very drowsy.
His still wet clothing was uncomfortable and he would have been glad
to replenish the scanty fire. But delicacy prevented this, so he
settled back against the bench and was soon asleep. He was a sound
sleeper always, but that night his slumber lasted unbroken for many
hours.

He awoke at last in affright, throwing off a breadth of rag carpet
which, in want of something better, Mrs. Stillwell had folded about
him. Dazed by his sudden rousing from such a profound sleep he fancied
he was again mixed in a wild battle with somebody.

Shrieks and cries, of laughter and of pain, shrill voices of terrified
children, the groans of men, the anxious tones of a woman, all these
mingled in one hubbub of sound that was horrible indeed.

Then something leaped to his shoulders and he felt his hair pulled
viciously, while an ugly little face, absurdly human, leered into his
and sharp little teeth seized upon his ear.

With a yell of distress he put up his hand to choke the creature, and
saw on the other side of the room a bald-headed gentleman wrestling
with a duplicate of his own enemy.

"Oh! oh! oh!" cried poor Lucetta, and could find nothing else to say;
while a laughing face peered in from the field outside, enjoying the
pandemonium within.

"Nothing but monkeys, dear! Do 'let's keep them over night just to
show the blessed children'!" mocked the incorrigible Corny; while the
indignant gentleman struggling in the kitchen with his long-tailed
assailant, glared at him and yelled:

"Laugh, will you, you idle good-for-naught! I'll have you in the
lock-up for this! Rousing me ou