nk from beneath blackened and swollen eyelids.

"The women-folks said that you'd be wantin' to make your place look
peart, bein' as the new minister is goin' to stay here with you,"
explained Hank, who was apparently the leader of the group. "When we
men-folks heard that they was goin' to clean up on the inside we thought
it wouldn't be no more than neighborly for us to pitch in and give you a
hand with the outside."

It was evident that the Captain did not relish the explanation, for he
bristled with dangerous hostility as he took a step forward. But before
he could refer Hank Simpson and his entire male army to a certain warm
climate where he thought they might go with mutual advantage to himself
and them, the morning breeze carried within earshot another note, higher
in the scale, but unmistakable in significance. Silently the old man
stood and dumbly watched a procession of petticoats march up to his gate
and turn into the cinder path.

The female army took possession of the house even as the men had taken
possession of the yard, and he who had commanded mutinous crews on the
briny deep fled and took refuge in the shade of a spreading elm near the
well. Mrs. Eadie Beaver, the Captain's next-door neighbor, approached
him, requested that he pitch in and help, and then as quickly beat a
retreat before the fierce glare. Hank Simpson once asked where they
might burn the accumulated trash. The answer was unsatisfactory though
forceful. Hank declared, "Them instructions is wuth a heap, Cap'n, but
unless you've got a trap-door to them parts hereabout, I reckon we'll
have to do the crematin' some other way."

All the shutters on the old house were thrown wide open, and sunshine
and air were allowed to penetrate corners where dust and cobwebs had
held undisputed sway for years. Through the open windows came the sound
of tack-hammer and puller, the moving of tables, sideboards, and chairs,
and of every other article of furniture that was not actually built into
the walls. From his place beneath the elm the Captain heard all these
sounds, and watched his old pieces being piled in a confused mass about
the front yard. He was smoking incessantly, and swearing no less
frequently.

From up the road came the sharp thud of beating hoofs. As horse and
rider came into view he deliberately turned in the opposite direction.
At the gate the rider drew rein and swung lithely to the ground. Many
young admirers gathered quickly about th