that he got a mere sprinkle in comparison with
their total immersion.

Then Stephen Ryder set out for home, followed by a dripping procession.
"I'll l'arn ye ter 'borry' my tools 'thout leave!" he vociferated as he
went along.

When they had reached the house, he faced round sternly on Ab. "Whyn't
ye kem an' tell me ez how the miller say I war a sneakin', deceivin'
critter, an'--an'--an' a thief!"

His wife dropped the dish she was washing, and it broke unheeded upon
the hearth. Ab stretched his eyes and mouth in amazement.

"Old Bob Peachin never tole me no sech word sence I been born!" he
declared flatly.

"Then what ailed ye ter go an' tell sech a lie ter Gryce's boys las'
night jes' down thar outside o' the shop?" Stephen Ryder demanded.

Ab stared at him, evidently bewildered.

"Ye tole 'em," continued the blacksmith, striving to refresh his memory,
"ez Bob Peachin say ez how ye mought know I war deceivin' by my bein'
named Stephen--an' that I war the hongriest critter--an'"--

"'Twar the t-a-a-a-rrier!" shouted Ab, "the little rat tarrier ez we war
a-talkin' 'bout. He hev been named Steve these six year, old Bob say. He
gimme the dog yestiddy, 'kase I 'lowed ez the rats war eatin' us out'n
house an' home, an' my mother hed fed up that old cat o' our'n till he
won't look at a mice. Old Bob warned me, though, ez Steve, _the
tarrier_, air a mighty thief an' deceivin' ginerally. Old Bob say he
reckons my mother will spile the dog with feedin' him, an' kill out what
little good he hev got lef' in him with kindness. But I tuk him, an'
brung him home ennyhow. An' las' night arter we hed got through talkin'
'bout borryin' (he looked embarrassed) the leetle hammer, we tuk to
talkin' 'bout the tarrier. An' yander he is now, asleep on the
chil'ren's bed!"

A long pause ensued.

"M'ria," said the blacksmith meekly to his wife, "hev ye tuk notice how
the gyarden truck air a-thrivin'? 'Pears like ter me ez the peas air
a-fullin' up consider'ble."

And so the subject changed.

He had it on his conscience, however, to explain the matter to the
miller. For the second time old Bob Peachin, and the men at the mill,
"laffed mightily at dad." And when Ab had recovered sufficiently from
the exhaustion attendant upon borrowing a hammer, he "laffed too."

THE CONSCRIPTS' HOLLOW

CHAPTER I

"I'm a-goin' ter climb down ter that thar ledge, an' slip round ter the
hollow whar them conscripts built thar fire in th