influence at once; the pipe dropped from his mouth and he snored
peacefully.

He was awakened by a choking scream, and, starting up hastily, looked
about for the cause. Then in the water he saw the little white face of
Billy Clements, and wading in up to his middle he reached out and,
catching the child by the hair, drew him to the bank and set him on his
feet. Still screaming with terror, Billy threw up some of the water he
had swallowed, and without turning his head made off in the direction of
home, calling piteously upon his mother.

Mr. Blows, shivering on the bank, watched him out of sight, and, missing
his cap, was just in time to see that friend of several seasons slowly
sinking in the middle of the river. He squeezed the water from his
trousers and, crossing the bridge, set off across the meadows.


His self-imposed term of bachelorhood lasted just three months, at the
end of which time he made up his mind to enact the part of the generous
husband and forgive his wife everything. He would not go into details,
but issue one big, magnanimous pardon.

Full of these lofty ideas he set off in the direction of home again. It
was a three-days' tramp, and the evening of the third day saw him but a
bare two miles from home. He clambered up the bank at the side of the
road and, sprawling at his ease, smoked quietly in the moonlight.

A waggon piled up with straw came jolting and creaking toward him. The
driver sat dozing on the shafts, and Mr. Blows smiled pleasantly as he
recognised the first face of a friend he had seen for three months. He