Against the first of these annoyances we have always been able to guard
ourselves, at least in a measure, and our man and the cook declare that
they have become so used to them that they do not mind them; but to
guard against burglars is much more difficult, and to become used to
them would, I think, require a great deal of practice.

For several months before the period of this narrative our neighbourhood
had been subject to visits from burglars. From time to time houses had
been entered and robbed, and the offenders had never been detected.

We had no police force, not even a village organization. There was a
small railway station near our house, and six miles away was the county
town. For fire and police protection each household was obliged to
depend upon itself.

Before the beginning of the burglarious enterprises in our midst, we had
not felt the need of much protection in this direction; sometimes
poultry was stolen, but this was a rare occurrence, and, although
windows and doors were generally fastened for the night, this labour was
often considered much more troublesome than necessary. But now a great
change had taken place in the feelings of our community. When the first
robbery occurred the neighbours were inclined to laugh about it, and to
say that Captain Hubbard's habit of sitting up after the rest of his
family had gone to bed and then retiring and forgetting to close the
front door had invited the entrance of a passing tramp. But when a
second and a third house, where windows and doors had not been left
open, had been entered, and, in a measure, despoiled, people ceased to
laugh; and if there had been any merriment at all on the subject, it
would have been caused by the extraordinary and remarkable precautions