ould have thought that he had lost his mind.

With a swift and brave fling he threw the pill far into the night. Then,
in an access of energy born of internal panic, he slid nimbly from his
perch and started in a steady jog-trot into the road, wiping away the
tears as he went, and stammering between sobs as he stumbled over the
ruts:

"No, I won't--yas, I will, too--doggone shame, and she frettin' her life
out--of co'se I will--I'll sell 'im for anything he'll fetch--an' I'll
be a better man, yas, yas I will--but I won't swaller another one o'
them blame--not ef I die for it."

This report, taken in long-hand by an amused listener by the road-side,
is no doubt incomplete in its ejaculatory form, but it has at least the
value of accuracy, so far as it goes, which may be had only from a
verbatim transcript.

It was perhaps three-quarters of an hour later when Enoch entered the
kitchen, wiping his face, nervous, weary, embarrassed. Supper was on the
table. The blue-bordered dish, heaped with side bones and second joints
done to a turn, was moved to a side station, while in its accustomed
place before Enoch's plate there sat an ominous bowl of gruel. The old
man did not look at the table, but he saw it all. He would have realized
it with his eyes shut. Domestic history, as well as that of greater
principalities and powers, often repeats itself.

Enoch's fingers trembled as he came near his wife, and standing with his
back to the table, began to untie a broad flat parcel that he had
brought in under his arm. She paused in one of her trips between the
table and stove, and regarded him askance.

"Reckon I'll haf to light the lantern befo' I set down to eat, wife," he
said, by way of introduction. "Isrul'll be along d'rec'ly to rope that
steer. I've done sold him." The good woman laid her dish upon the table
and returned to the stove.

"Pity you hadn't 'a' sold 'im day befo' yesterday. I'd 'a' had a heap
less pain in my shoulder-blade." She sniffed as she said it; and then
she added, "That gruel ought to be e't warm."

By this time the parcel was open. There was a brief display of colored
zephyrs and gleaming card-board. Then Enoch began re-wrapping them.

"Reckon you can look these over in the morn-in', wife. They're jest a
few new cross-stitch Bible texts, an' I knowed you liked Scripture
motters. Where'll I lay 'em, wife, while I go out an' tend to lightin'
that lantern? I told Isrul I'd set it in the stable door s