n so constrained an attitude. Their effort was
heroic, but self-control at last gave way. As it were with a snap, one
of the globes of quills straightened itself out, and sneezed and
sneezed and sneezed. Then the other went through the same spasmodic
process, while Mrs. Gammit, leaning halfway out of the window,
squealed and choked with delight. But the porcupines were obstinate,
and would not run away. Very slowly they turned and retired down the
yard, halting every few feet to sneeze. With tears streaming down her
cheeks Mrs. Gammit watched their retreat, till suddenly some of the
vagrant pepper was wafted back to her own nostrils, and she herself
was shaken with a mighty sneeze. This checked her mirth on the
instant. Her face grew grave, and drawing back with a mortified air
she slammed the window down.

"Might 'a' knowed I'd be aketchin' cold," she muttered, "settin' in a
draught this time o' night."

Not until she had thoroughly mastered the tickling in her nostrils did
she glance forth again. Then the porcupines were gone, and not even an
echo of their far-off sneezes reached her ears.

In the days that followed, neither weasel, wildcat, nor porcupine came
to Mrs. Gammit's clearing, and the daily harvest of strictly fresh
eggs was unfailing. At the end of a week, the good lady felt justified
in returning the traps to Joe Barron, and letting him know how
mistaken he had been.

"There, Mr. Barron," said she, handing him the three traps, "I'm
obleeged to you, an' there's yer traps. But there's one of 'em ain't
no good."

"Which one be it?" asked the woodsman as he took them.

"I've marked it with a bit of string," replied Mrs. Gammit.

"What's the matter with it? I don't see nawthin' wrong with it!" said
Barron, examining it critically.

"Tain't no good! You take my word fer it! That's all I've got to
say!" persisted Mrs. Gammit.

"Oh, well, seem' as it's you sez so, Mrs. Gammit, that's enough,"
agreed the woodsman, civilly. "But the other is all right, eh? What
did they ketch?"

"Well, they ketched a big weasel!" said Mrs. Gammit, eyeing him with
challenge.

A broad smile went over Barron's face.

"I knowed it," he exclaimed. "I knowed as how it was a weasel."

"An' _I_ knowed as how ye'd say jest them very words," retorted Mrs.
Gammit. "But ye don't know everythin', Joe Barron. It wa'n't no weasel
as was takin' them there aigs!"

"What were it then?" demanded the woodsman, incredulously.

"It w