us. Away down by the edge of the lake was a little barn,
filled up to the roof with grain and hay, and there was no standin' room
or shelter in it for the hosses. So the lawyer hitches his critter to
a tree, and goes and fetches up some fodder for him, and leaves him for
the night, to weather it as he could. As soon as he goes in, I takes
Old Clay to the barn, for it's a maxim of mine always to look out arter
number one, opens the door, and pulls out sheaf arter sheaf of grain as
fast as I could, and throws it out, till I got a place big enough for
him to crawl in.

"'Now,' sais I, 'old boy,' as I shot to the door arter him, 'if that
hole ain't big enough for you, eat away till it is, that's all.'

"I had hardly got to the house afore the rain, that had threatened all
day, came down like smoke, and the wind got up, and it blew like a young
hurricane, and the lake roared dismal; it was an awful night, and it was
hard to say which was wus, the Storm or the shelter.

"'Of two evils,' sais I to the lawyer, 'choose the least. It ain't a bad
thing to be well housed in a night like this, is it?'

"The critter groaned, for both cases was so 'bad he didn't know which
to take up to defend, so he grinned horrid and said nothin'; and it was
enough to make him grin too, that's a fact. He looked as if he had got
hold on a bill o' pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs that
time, you may depend.

"Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin' room, where we was all
half circled round the fire, and two sleepin' rooms off of it. One of
these Obi had, who was a-bed, groanin', coughin', and turnin' over and
over all the time on the creakin' bedstead with pleurisy; t'other was
for the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his mother, and the
hearth, or any other soft place we could find, was allocated for lawyer
and me.

"What a scarecrow lookin' critter old aunty was, warn't she? She was all
in rags and tatters, and though she lived 'longside of the lake the
best part of her emigrant life, had never used water since she was
christened. Her eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like two
burnt holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied so tight
with an eel-skin behind her head, it seemed to take the hide with it.
I 'most wonder how she ever shot to her eyes to go to sleep. She had no
stockins on her legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn't lift
her feet up, for fear of droppin' off her slippers; b