rushed to his face, his
chilled form became rigid with a sudden passionate protest against his
misfortunes and wrongs. Springing from the wagon, he left his team
standing at the barn door and rushed to the kitchen window. There
before him sat the whole tribe from the shanty, feasting at his
expense. The table was loaded with coarse profusion. Roast fowls
alternated with fried ham and eggs, a great pitcher of milk was flanked
by one of foaming cider, while the post of honor was occupied by the
one contribution of his self-invited guests--a villainous-looking jug.

They had just sat down to the repast when the weazen-faced patriarch of
the tribe remarked, by way of grace, it may be supposed, "Be jabers,
but isn't ould Holcroft givin' us a foine spread the noight! Here's
bad luck to the glowerin' ould skinflint!" and he poured out a bumper
from the jug.

The farmer waited to see and hear no more. Hastening to a parlor
window, he raised it quietly and clambered in; then taking his rusty
shotgun, which he kept loaded for the benefit of the vermin that
prowled about his hen-roost, he burst in upon the startled group.

"Be off!" he shouted. "If you value your lives, get out of that door,
and never show your faces on my place again. I'll not be eaten out of
house and home by a lot of jackals!"

His weapon, his dark, gleaming eyes, and desperate aspect taught the
men that he was not to be trifled with a moment, and they slunk away.

Bridget began to whine, "Yez wouldn't turn a woman out in the noight
and storm."

"You are not a woman!" thundered Holcroft, "you are a jackal, too! Get
your traps and begone! I warn the whole lot of you to beware! I give
you this chance to get off the premises, and then I shall watch for you
all, old and young!"

There was something terrible and flame-like in his anger, dismaying the
cormorants, and they hastened away with such alacrity that Bridget went
down the lane screaming, "Sthop, I tell yees, and be afther waitin' for
me!"

Holcroft hurled the jug after them with words that sounded like an
imprecation. He next turned to the viands on the table with an
expression of loathing, gathered them up, and carried them to the hog
pen. He seemed possessed by a feverish impatience to banish every
vestige of those whom he had driven forth, and to restore the apartment
as nearly as possible to the aspect it had worn in former happy years.
At last, he sat down where his wife had been ac