said Strout rising, "is to go hunt
Pettengill up myself."

"I guess you've struck it right this time," assented Mandy, as Strout
left the room and started for the wood-shed.

As he closed the door, Mandy resumed her singing as though such
conversations were of everyday occurrence.

She finished her work at the sink and was fixing the kitchen fire when
Hiram returned.

"All I could find," said he, holding an egg in each hand. "The hens must
have struck or think it's a holiday. S'pose there's any out in the barn?
Come, let's go look, Mandy. Where's old Strout?"

"I guess he's gone to look for Mr. Pettengill," replied Mandy, with a
laugh.

"I kinder thought he would if I stayed long enough," said Hiram, with a
grin; "but come along, Mandy, no hen fruit, no puddin'."

"Mr. Maxwell," said Mandy, soberly, "I wish you'd be more particular
about your language. You know I abominate slang. You know how careful I
try to be."

"You're a dandy," said Hiram, taking her hand.

They ran as far as the wood-shed, when seeing the door open, they hid
behind it until Strout came out and walked down towards the lane to meet
Ezekiel, whom he had seen coming up from the road. Then Hiram and Mandy
sped on their way to the barn, which they quickly reached and were soon
upon the haymow, apparently searching intently for eggs.

When Strout reached Ezekiel he shook hands with him and said, "Come up
to the barn, Pettengill, I've got a little somethin' I want to tell you
and it's kinder private. It's about that city feller that's swellin'
round here puttin' on airs and tryin' to make us think that his father
is a bigger man than George Washington. He about the same as told me
down to the grocery store that the blood of all the Quincys flowed in
one arm and the blood of all the Adams in the other, but I kinder guess
that the rest of his carcass is full of calf's blood and there's more
fuss and feathers than fight to him."

By this time they had reached the barn and they sat down upon a pile of
hay at the foot of the mow.

"Now my plan's this," said Strout. "You know Bob Wood; well, he's the
biggest feller and the best fighter in town. I'm goin' to post Bob up as
to how to pick a quarrel with that city feller. When he gets the lickin'
that he deserves, I rayther think that Deacon Mason will lose a
boarder."

"But s'posin' Mr. Sawyer licks Bob Wood?" queried Ezekiel.

"Oh! I don't count much on that," said Strout; "but if it should tur