load of the meadow hay and I loading, for I still kept my
liking for that part of the work and was allowed to do it, although it
was in reality too hard for me. The Old Squire was raking after the
cart, and the others were raking hay into windrows a little way off. As
we were putting on the last "tumble," or the last but one, a peculiar
kind of large fly, or bee, of which cattle are strangely afraid, came
buzzing about old Line, the off ox. The instant the ox heard that bee,
he snorted, uttered a bellow and started to run. The very sound of the
bee's hum seemed to render the oxen quite frantic. Almost at the outset
they ran the offwheel over a rick of logs, nearly throwing me headlong
from the load. I thrust my fork down deep and held to that, and away
went the load down the meadow, both oxen going at full speed, with Asa
vainly endeavoring to outrun them, and Gramp shouting, "Whoa-hish!" at
the top of his voice. We went on over stumps and through water-holes,
while the rest ran across lots, to head off the runaways. At one time I
was tumbling in the hay, then jounced high above it; and such a whooping
and shouting as rose on all sides had never before disturbed that
peaceful meadow, at least within historic times.

Coming to a place where the brook made a broad bend partly across the
meadow, the oxen rushed blindly off the turfy bank, and landed, load and
all, in two or three feet of water and mud. When the load struck in the
brook, I went off, heels over head, and fell on the nigh ox's back. The
oxen were mired, and so was the load. We were obliged to get the horses
to haul the cattle out, and both the oxen and horses were required to
haul out the cart. Altogether, it was a very muddy episode; and though
rather startling while it lasted, we yet laughed a great deal over it
afterwards.

CHAPTER XVIII

APPLE-HOARDS

We heard a great deal concerning "Reconstruction" of the Union that
summer. The Old Squire was painfully concerned about it; he feared that
Congress had made mistakes which would nullify the results gained by the
Civil War. The low character of the men, sent to the South to administer
the government, revolted him. He used to bring his newspaper to the
table nearly every meal and would sometimes fling it down indignantly,
crying, "Wrong! wrong! all wrong!" Then he and Addison would discuss
current politics, while the rest of us listened, Theodora gravely,
Halstead scoffing, and I often very absent