out any further adventure.
It was so smooth and level under foot that Uncle Eb let me get in the
wagon after Fred was hitched to it The old dog went along soberly and
without much effort, save when we came to hills or sandy places, when
I always got out and ran on behind. Uncle Eb showed me how to brake the
wheels with a long stick going downhill. I remember how it hit the dog's
heels at the first down grade, and how he ran to keep out of the way
of it We were going like mad in half a minute, Uncle Eb coming after us
calling to the dog. Fred only looked over his shoulder, with a wild eye,
at the rattling wagon and ran the harder. He leaped aside at the bottom
and then we went all in a heap. Fortunately no harm was done.

'I declare!' said Uncle Eb as he came up to us, puffing like a spent
horse, and picked me up unhurt and began to untangle the harness of old
Fred, 'I guess he must a thought the devil was after him.'

The dog growled a little for a moment and bit at the harness, but
coaxing reassured him and he went along all right again on the level. At
a small settlement the children came out and ran along beside my wagon,
laughing and asking me questions. Some of them tried to pet the dog, but
old Fred kept to his labour at the heels of Uncle Eb and looked neither
to right nor left. We stopped under a tree by the side of a narrow brook
for our dinner, and one incident of that meal I think of always when
I think of Uncle Eb. It shows the manner of man he was and with what
understanding and sympathy he regarded every living thing. In rinsing
his teapot he accidentally poured a bit of water on a big bumble-bee.
The poor creature struggled to lift hill, and then another downpour
caught him and still another until his wings fell drenched. Then his
breast began heaving violently, his legs stiffened behind him and he
sank, head downward, in the grass. Uncle Eb saw the death throes of the
bee and knelt down and lifted the dead body by one of its wings.

'Jes' look at his velvet coat,' he said, 'an' his wings all wet n'
stiff. They'll never carry him another journey. It's too bad a man has
t' kill every step he takes.'

The bee's tail was moving faintly and Uncle Eb laid him out in the warm
sunlight and fanned him awhile with his hat, trying to bring back the
breath of life.

'Guilty!' he said, presently, coming back with a sober face. 'Thet's a
dead bee. No tellin' how many was dependent on him er what plans he bed.
Mus