't want you to favour me in the least, though I
appreciate your thoughtfulness."

After breakfast, Jake and Douglas went out into the woodhouse to grind
a scythe and a cutter-bar.

"We might as well git them done while it's rainin'," Jake had said,
"an' there's nuthin' else we kin do this mornin'."

Douglas turned the stone while Jake did the grinding. He was not new
to the job, as he had often done it as a boy. Then, it had been a
wearisome task, and it seemed to him that the hired man always pressed
as hard as he could upon the stone. But now he enjoyed the task, as it
was a change from the pitching of hay.

"Have you many near neighbours?" he presently asked.

"Yes, a few," was the reply. "Sandy Barker lives below me, and Caleb
Titus jist above. Of course, there's the corner with a whole bunch of
houses. It's pretty well settled all along the river."

"Has Caleb Titus much of a family?"

"Naw. Jist himself an' one daughter, Polly."

"Has he a large farm?"

"Not overly large; though he doesn't attend to it. He works in the
woods in the winter time, an' scratches the ground a little in the
spring, an' tries to raise something, though he doesn't succeed very
well. He sold a piece off the front of his place a few years ago to
old Andy Strong, an' got a good price for it, so I heard."

"Who is this man Strong?" Douglas enquired.

Jake lifted the scythe from the stone and felt its edge very carefully
with his thumb before answering. He seemed to be pondering something,
and a peculiar smile lurked about the corners of his mouth.

"I can't jist tell ye who he is," he eventually replied. "He came off
an' on to Rixton for several years until at last he settled down here
for good with his daughters."

"How many has he?"

"Two; Nell an' Nan. My, they're beauties, an' the young fellers in the
whole parish are about crazy over them, especially Nell. She's a
wonder, an' looks after everything, the old man included."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, he's blind as a bat, an' as queer a critter as ye ever sot eyes
on."

"In what way?"

"Well, he's an unbeliever, an' has a great deal to say about churches,
'ligion, an' parsons. He's down on 'em all. The young fellers
hereabouts git him to talk to them, an' make believe they are mighty
interested in his views. That is only their excuse fer visitin' the
place, so's they kin meet Nell an' Nan. Ho, ho! it's a great joke.
The old boy thinks they're li