and the bells jingled. It was a joyful day and old Shep was as merry and
well fed as the rest of us.

How cold and sad and still the house seemed when we got back to it in
the evening! We had to drive to a neighbor's and borrow fire and bring
it home with us in a pail of ashes as we were out of tinder. I held the
lantern for my uncle while he did the chores and when we had gone to bed
I fell asleep hearing him tell of Joseph and Mary going to pay their
taxes.

In the spring my uncle hired a man to work for us--a noisy, brawny,
sharp-featured fellow with keen gray eyes, of the name of Dug Draper.
Aunt Deel hated him. I feared him but regarded him with great hope
because he had a funny way of winking at me with one eye across the
table and, further, because he could sing and did sing while he
worked--songs that rattled from his lips in a way that amused me
greatly. Then, too, he could rip out words that had a new and wonderful
sound in them. I made up my mind that he was likely to become a valuable
asset when I heard Aunt Deel say to my Uncle Peabody:

"You'll have to send that loafer away, right now, ayes I guess you
will."

"Why?"

"Because this boy has learnt to swear like a pirate--ayes--he has!"

Uncle Peabody didn't know it but I myself had begun to suspect it, and
that hour the man was sent away, and I remember that he left in anger
with a number of those new words flying from his lips. A forced march to