lence with his back
toward us. He turned and nervously blew out his breath. His lips
trembled a little as he said.

"I dunno but what it's goin' to rain."

I watched them as they walked to the tavern sheds, both looking down at
the ground and going rather unsteadily. Oh, the look of that beloved
pair as they walked away from me!--the look of their leaning heads!
Their silence and the sound of their footsteps are, somehow, a part of
the picture which has hung all these years in my memory.

Suddenly I saw a man go reeling by in the middle of the road. His feet
swung. They did not rise and reach forward and touch the ground
according to the ancient habit of the human foot. They swung sideways
and rose high and each crossed the line of his flight a little, as one
might say, when it came to the ground, for the man's movements reminded
me of the aimless flight of a sporting swallow. He zig-zagged from one
side of the street to the other. He caught my eye just in time and saved
me from breaking down. I watched him until he swung around a corner.
Only once before had I seen a man drunk and walking, although I had seen
certain of our neighbors riding home drunk--so drunk that I thought
their horses were ashamed of them, being always steaming hot and in a
great hurry.

Sally Dunkelberg and her mother came along and said that they were glad
I had come to school. I could not talk to them and seeing my trouble,
they went on, Sally waving her hand to me as they turned the corner
below. I felt ashamed of myself. Suddenly I heard the door open behind
me and the voice of Mr. Hacket:

"Bart," he called, "I've a friend here who has something to say to you.
Come in."

I turned and went into the house.

"Away with sadness--laddie buck!" he exclaimed as he took his violin
from its case while I sat wiping my eyes. "Away with sadness! She often
raps at my door, and while I try not to be rude, I always pretend to be
very busy. Just a light word o' recognition by way o' common politeness!
Then laugh, if ye can an' do it quickly, lad, an' she will pass on."

The last words were spoken in a whisper, with one hand on my breast.

He tuned the strings and played the _Fisher's Hornpipe_. What a romp of
merry music filled the house! I had never heard the like and was soon
smiling at him as he played. His bow and fingers flew in the wild frolic
of the Devil's Dream. It led me out of my sadness into a world all new
to me.

"Now, God bless yo