t. We first ketched a
smack on the soles of our feet, and then that mill flew to a fiery
finish. Jeehoopidderammity! It was simply gorgeous.

"We didn't have time to take it all in, howsomever, for after the
first blast a big, black thing sailed over our heads with the
fearfullest screech that ever scart a man to death.

"'Zeke,' says William, hangin' on to my neck, 'did I hear
somethin', or is it that cussed green ink workin'?'

"'I thought I observed a sound,' says I; 'and whatever it was lit
yonder. Let's go see.

"William hadn't intended to go and see at all. In fact, I dragged
him by the hair and belt the hull distance--not that I was exactly
afraid, but nothin' is so lonesome when you have company.

"There was a hole in a snowbank where whatever it was went in. I
started to paw down, but William was for bunchin' it.

"'I tell you, let it be and hump yourself out'n here,' says he.
'It's after me because I blew up the mill; it's the devil, that's
what it is.'

"'Is it?' says I. 'Well, let's have a look at him. My veins is
full of cream de menthy, and I'll knock his horns off'n him if he
gives me any lip.'

"Just then the snowbank heaved up. It wasn't no devil--that is,
not exactly. It was a lady. I'd a bet on it if I'd had time to
think. I might have known there was no place on top of this
footstool where E. G. W. Scraggs could rest his weary feet without
some female happenin' in the same spot at the same time. I should
have took William's advice, but it was now too late.

"We stood around kinder awk'ard, with her brushin' snow from
herself, till I says, 'Well, good-evenin', ma'am.'

"First off she says good-evenin', too, out of surprise. Then she
begun to talk altogether different. She described William and me
by sections, goin' into particulars, and nobuddy'd loaned us money
on her recommend. I was used to this at home, so I spoke up nice
and silent in our defense. There ain't quite so much noise when
only one is talkin.'

"Finally, when her breath give out, William says very humble,
'Would you mind informin' us, ma'am, how you come to be in these
parts just now?'

"She explained fully that, in answer to an advertisement in the
paper, she was slidin' over to Squaw Creek. The advertisement
called for a wife for a farmer, to be forty years old, or
thereabouts, able to cook, plow, do washing and light blacksmith's
work, and to have a capital of five hundred dollars to invest in
the