d be doing something! I want to go."

"This cord," said Mr. Linden, taking one up from the bottom of the
wagon--"is it wanted for any special purpose, Squire Deacon?"

"I guess if you ask Joe _he_ could tell you," said the Squire with a
glance that way. "'_Twas_ good for something, but he's tied it in forty
knots--just to see if I'd be fool enough to pick 'em out."

"It would be very useful about this harness," said Mr. Linden,--"will
you try and get rid of the knots?"--and he handed Faith the cord, with
a smile which said she must make that do instead of the lynch-pin.

Which Faith did not particularly like, for she had a strong hankering
for the ride back to the bushes. She dropped the bridle upon her
horse's neck, and began to exercise her patience and skill upon the
knots.

"I wish I had a knife!" she said as she did so, "and I'd shew you that
I am not afraid." And a little colour rose in her face, which rather
grew.

"_That's_ easy," said Squire Deacon, looking suddenly up and extending
his hand. "Here's one as'll cut through most things." Mr. Linden's head
was bent over the harness,--neither eye nor hand stirred from his work.

"Thank you, Mr. Deacon," said Faith, feeling the blood rise to her
brow,--"but I won't go for it now.--I'll do this first." In her
confusion Faith did not see another person that joined the group, till
he was standing at her horse's side.

"What sort of a bee are you gettin' up here on the high-way?" said Mr.
Simlins in his good-humoured growl (and he had a variety.) "What _air_
you doin' on horse-back?"

"There's harness to be mended here, Mr. Simlins--and I'm making rope
for it."

"You go 'long!" said he. "Who are you makin' rope for? Give that to
me?" But Faith held fast.

"No, Mr. Simlins, you can't have it--I am bound to get out these knots.
There is work doing round here, that perhaps you can help."

Mr. Simlins stooped under her horse's head and went round to the other
side, and then for the first time he got a full view.

"That's the way you perform actions!" he said; seeming too profoundly
struck to be at all wordy. "'Say and Seal' I guess you be! What's the
matter with you, Squire?"

"If anything is, I haint heard of it," said Mr. Deacon, with the knife
lying heavy against his ribs. "Mr. Linden's turned
harness-maker--that's the last news."

"O are you there, Mr. Simlins?" said the new mechanic, looking up from
his work.

"Can't be more unlikely than you," sai