ful.

And for the rest of that evening they were absorbed in making a great
dust and racket amongst lumber boxes far away from their grandmother's
hearing.

IV

AN AWKWARD VISIT

"And how do you know a river has been here?"

"By the soil and by the relics I have found. Look at this fossil. Do you
see the outline of the fish? Fish don't live on dry ground."

"There might have been a fishman passing by who dropped one out of his
cart."

Old Principle laughed at Dudley's sceptical notion, and went on
shovelling out earth with great alacrity. It was Saturday afternoon: old
Principle had shut up his shop and taken the boys up to the hills
surrounding the little village, where in a ravine between two
precipitous crags, in the midst of a green bower of ferns and moss, he
was hard at work excavating an old cave that had been buried for many
years out of sight.

Dudley and Roy were eagerly helping and chattering as only boys know
how.

"This little ravine has been formed by a mountain stream rushing down,"
continued the old man, resting on his spade for a minute; "'tis a good
principle, Master Dudley, to trust grown-up folks' knowledge better than
your own."

[Illustration: "Old Principle laughed at Dudley's notion."]

"I wish," said Roy, reflectively, "that this cave was nearer home; it
would be so lovely to come out whenever we wanted to, wouldn't it, Dudley?
Perhaps some king has hidden away in it, or soldier when he was pursued
by his enemies!"

"Hulloo," said Dudley, looking up the hill; "here is such a funny
looking woman coming down with a donkey, her skirt is nearly up to her
knees, and she has a man's boots on."

Old Principle paused in his work, and in a minute or two greeted the
newcomer.

"Good-afternoon, Mrs. Cullen, how's your husband to-day?"

"Badly, very badly, but I's forced to leave he. I lock the door and put
the key in me pocket, for I's bin up the hill yonner cuttin' peat sin
seven o'clock this mornin'. He do get awfu' lonesome, he say, an' if me
niece hadn't a married and gone to 'Merica, I should have kept she to
tend him."

"Who is she?" asked Roy, as after a few more words the woman moved on.

"She lives at the bottom of the hill over there. Her husband has been
ill of consumption these last two years, and she works to support them
both. She's a hard-working woman, is Martha Cullen; she works in the
fields harvesting just now; if I could feel I'd be welcome I would go to