“Now I’ll relieve Flint, and he will give you a laugh.  Come on Hiram and tell us about your Beulah.”

The gentleman addressed had performed his duty, by sitting on a fence and “righting up” his pockets, to beguile the tedium of his exile.  Before his multitudinous possessions could be restored to their native sphere, Thorn was himself again, and on his feet.

“Stay where you are Phil; I like to tramp, it seems like old times, and I know you’re tired.  Just forget all this I’ve been saying, and go on as before.  Thank you, boys! thank you!” and with a grasp of the two hands extended to him, he strode away along the path already worn by his own restless feet.

“It’s done him good, and I’m glad of that; but I’d like to see the little baggage that bewitched the poor old boy, wouldn’t you, Phil?”

“Hush! here’s Flint.”

“What’s up naow? want me tew address the meetin’, hey?  I’m willin’, only the laugh’s ruther ag’inst me, ef I tell that story; expect yeu’ll like it all the better fer that.”  Flint coiled up his long limbs, put his hands in his pockets, chewed meditatively for a moment, and then began with his slowest drawl—­

“Waal, sir, it’s pretty nigh ten year ago, I was damster daown tew Oldtaown, clos’t tew Banggore.  My folks lived tew Bethel; there was only the old man, and Aunt Siloam, keepin’ house fer him, seein’ as I was the only chick he hed.  I hedn’t heared from ’em fer a long spell, when there come a letter sayin’ the old man was breakin’ up.  He’d said it every spring fer a number er years, and I didn’t mind it no more’n the breakin’ up er the river; not so much jest then; fer the gret spring drive was comin’ on, and my hands was tew full to quit work all tew oncet.  I sent word I’d be ’long fore a gret while, and bymeby I went.  I ought tew hev gone at fust; but they’d sung aout ‘Wolf!’ so often I wasn’t scared; an’ sure ’nuff the wolf did come at last.  Father hed been dead an’ berried a week when I got there, and aunt was so mad she wouldn’t write, nor scurcely speak tew me fer a consider’ble spell.  I didn’t blame her a mite, and felt jest the wust kind; so I give in every way, and fetched her raound.  Yeou see I hed a cousin who’d kind er took my place tew hum while I was off, an’ the old man hed left him a good slice er his money, an’ me the farm, hopin’ to keep me there.  He’d never liked the lumberin’ bizness, an’ hankered arfter me a sight, I faound.  Waal, seein’ haow ’twas, I tried tew please him, late as it was; but ef there was ennything I did spleen ag’inst, it was farmin, ’specially arfter the smart times I’d ben hevin, up Oldtaown way.  Yeou don’t know nothin’ abaout it; but ef yeou want tew see high dewin’s, jest hitch onto a timber-drive an’ go it daown along them lakes and rivers, say from Kaumchenungamooth tew Punnobscot Bay.  Guess yeou’d see a thing or tew, an’ find livin’ on a log come as handy as ef yeou was born a turtle.