usy souses," he enjoined them. "There's a big
play up at the old tree goin' to happen right away. Guess that old
crow bait, Ma Day'll need all the youth an' beauty o' Rocky Springs
around to get eyes on her glory. I can't say either o' you boys fit
in with these things, but if you don't git too near hoss soap and
cold water mebbe you'll pass for the picturesque."

After a brief interval of blasphemous upbraiding and protest, after
these two men had exhausted their complimentary vocabulary on the
subject of the charms of the lumber merchant's wife, to all of which
O'Brien turned a more or less deaf ear, the three set out for the
scene of action, and took up an obscure position whence they could
watch every detail of the proceedings without, themselves, being too
closely observed.

As O'Brien looked out upon the preparations already made, and while
his two friends stood chewing the silent cud of angry discontent, with
a diluting of black plug tobacco, he had to admit that the moment
certainly was a moment, and the scene had assumed a fascination which
even contrived to take possession of his now somewhat rusty
imagination.

There, in the center of all, stood the villainous old pine, clothed in
all its atmosphere of unconscionable evil. It stood out quite by
itself in the midst of a clearing, which had been carefully prepared.
Every tree and every bush had been cut away, so that nothing should
interfere with the impressive fall of the aged giant.

O'Brien studied the position closely. His eye was measuring, and he
was forced to admit that the setting was impressive. More than that,
he felt constrained to appreciate the imagination of Mrs. John Day.
With a view to possibilities the approximate height of the tree had
been taken, and a corresponding radius had been cleared of all lesser
growths. This was excellent. But--and he contrived to find one
objection--the old Meeting House was well within the radius. It was
the preparation for its defense to which he took exception. He scorned
the surrounding of lesser trees which had been left to guard it from
the crushing impact should the tree fall that way. Nor was he slow to
air his opinions.

He eyed the discontented features of his companions, and snorted
violently.

"Say," he cried, forcefully. "Look at that, you two bokays o' beauty."
He pointed at the Meeting House. "There--right there. If that
darnation stack o' kindlin' was to fall that aways, why, I guess them
ve