out, my appetite failed me, an' I wa'n't wuth a day's wages. I'd
learned engineerin' when I was a boy, an' I thought I'd try
runnin' on the road a spell, but it didn't suit my constitution.
My kidneys ain't turrible strong, an' the doctors said I'd have
Bright's disease if I didn't git some kind o' work where there
wa'n't no vibrations."

"Hard to find, Mr. Wiley; hard to find!" said Jed Towle.

"You're right," responded the old man feelingly. "I've tried all
kinds o' labor. Some of 'em don't suit my liver, some disagrees
with my stomach, and the rest of 'em has vibrations; so here I
set, high an' dry on the banks of life, you might say, like a
stranded log."

As this well-known simile fell upon the ear, there was a general
stir in the group, for Turrible Wiley, when rhetorical, sometimes
grew tearful, and this was a mood not to be encouraged.

"All right, boss," called Ike Billings, winking to the boys;
"we'll be there in a jiffy!" for the luncheon hour had flown, and
the work of the afternoon was waiting for them. "You make a
chalk-mark where you left off, Mr. Wiley, an' we'll hear the rest
to-morrer; only don't you forgit nothin'! Remember't was the
Kennebec you was talkin' about."

"I will, indeed," responded the old man. "As I was sayin' when
interrupted, I may be a stranded log, but I'm proud that the mark
o' the Gard'ner Lumber Comp'ny is on me, so't when I git to my
journey's end they'll know where I belong and send me back to the