and then I begins to wind and wind away ever so slow, and drops the ball every now and then, so as to keep her down stairs.  Sam, says she, I do believe you won’t wind that are twine off all night, do give it to January, I won’t stay no longer, I’m een a most dead asleep.  The old feller’s arm is so plaguy onsteady, says I, it won’t do; but hark, what’s that, I’m sure I heerd something in the ash saplin, did’nt you Sall?  I heerd the geese there, that’s all, says she, they always come under the windows at night; but she looked scared enough, and says she, I vow I’m tired a holdin out of arms, this way, and I won’t do it no longer; and down she throw’d the hank on the floor.  Well, says I, stop one minute, dear, till I send old January out to see if any body is there; perhaps some o’ neighbour Dearborne’s cattle have broke into the sarce garden.  January went out, tho’ Sall say’d it was no use, for she knew the noise of the geese, they always kept close to the house at night, for fear of the varmin.  Presently in runs old Snow, with his hair standin up an eend, and the whites of his eyes lookin as big as the rims of a soup plate; oh!  Gor Ormity, said he, oh massa, oh Miss Sally, oh!!  What on airth is the matter with you, said Sally, how you do frighten me, I vow I believe you’r mad—­oh my Gor said he, oh!! massa Jim Munroe he hang himself, on the ash saplin under Miss Sally’s window—­oh my Gor!!!  That shot was a settler, it struck poor Sall right atwixt wind and water; she gave a lurch ahead, then healed over and sunk right down in another faintin fit; and Juno, old Snow’s wife, carried her off and laid her down on the bed—­poor thing, she felt ugly enough, I do suppose.

Well, father, I thought he’d a fainted too, he was so struck up all of a heap, he was completely bung fungered; dear, dear, said he, I did’nt think it would come to pass so soon, but I knew it would come; I foretold it; says I, the last time I seed him, Jim, says I, mind what I say, you’ll swing for it yet.  Give me the sword I wore when I was at Bunker’s hill, may be there is life yet, I’ll cut him down.  The lantern was soon made ready, and out we went to the ash saplin.  Cut me down, Sam, that’s a good fellow, said Jim, all the blood in my body has swashed into my head, and’s a runnin out o’ my nose, I’m een a most smothered, be quick for heaven’s sake.  The Lord be praised, said father, the poor sinner is not quite dead yet.  Why, as I’m alive—­well if that don’t beat all natur, why he has hanged himself by one leg, and’s a swingin like a rabbit upside down, that’s a fact.  Why, if he aint snared, Sam; he is properly wired I declare—­I vow this is some o’ your doins, Sam—­well it was a clever scheme too, but a little grain too dangerous, I guess.  Don’t stand staring and jawin there all night, said Jim, cut me down, I tell you—­or cut my throat and be damned to you, for I am choakin with blood.  Roll over that are hogshead, old Snow,