t' fowls ... shot him ... good riddance."

We made no comment beyond a polite and inquiring "Oh?" and he continued
to be communicative.

"Just swore, did Jake ... swore an' stamped about ... but t' missus ...
now there's a woman for you ... she played Old 'Arry wi' him ... set a
trap herself ... caught him."

Mother Hubbard ventured to surmise that it was the fox which had been
captured and not the husband, and Mr. Higgins acquiesced.

"Nought like women for ... settin' traps," he continued, with a
chuckle, shaking his head slowly for emphasis; "they're all alike ...
barrin' they don't catch foxes... Man-traps mostly ... aye, man-traps."

"That is just like Barjona, love," Mother Hubbard whispered; "he has
never a good word for the women."

"You have managed to evade them so far, Mr. Higgins?" I suggested
meekly.

"Nay ... bad job ... bad job ... been as big a fool as most ... dead
this many a year ... dead an' buried twenty year ... wide awake now ...
old fox now ... no traps ... no, no, no!"

He strode forward to the mare's side again, but I saw him wagging his
head for many a minute as he chewed the cud of his reflections.
Meanwhile Mother Hubbard, with some hesitation and many an apprehensive
look ahead, told me something of his story.

"His mother was a very religious woman, love, but she was no scholar,
though she knew her Bible well. And you know, love, the best of people
have generally their little fads and failings, and she _would_ call all
her boys after the twelve Apostles. At least, love, you understand,
she had four sons--not twelve--but she called the first John because he
was the beloved disciple, and the next James because he was John's
brother. Then came Andrew and afterwards Simon Barjona. They do
say--but you know, love, how people talk--that she would have liked
eleven boys, missing out Judas because he was a thief and betrayed his
Master, but she had only nine children, and five of them were girls.

"I have heard my husband say, love, that when they came to christen the
youngest boy the minister was quite angry, and would not have the
'Barjona,' but the mother was much bent on it, and would not substitute
Peter, which was what the parson suggested. Anyhow, she registered him
in his full name."

"Which name was he called by?" I inquired.

"Oh, Barjona, love, always. And behind his back he is Barjona yet,
though he likes to be called Mr. Higgins. But you may give a man a
good na