and reached the camp-ground without breaking so much as a teacup.
Old John helped me pitch the tent, and as neither of us understood
the matter very well, it took us some time. It was, indeed, nearly
noon when old John left us, and it may have been possible that he
delayed matters a little so as to be able to charge for a full
half-day for himself and horse. Euphemia got into the wagon to
ride back with him, that she might give some parting injunctions to
Pomona.

"I'll have to stop a bit to put up the fences, ma'am," said old
John, "or Misther Ball might make a fuss."

"Is this Mr. Ball's land?" I asked.

"Oh yes, sir, it's Mr. Ball's land."

"I wonder how he'll like our camping on it?" I said, thoughtfully.

"I'd 'a' thought, sir, you'd 'a' asked him that before you came,"
said old John, in a tone that seemed to indicate that he had his
doubts about Mr. Ball.

"Oh, there'll be no trouble about that," cried Euphemia. "You can
drive me past Mr. Ball's,--it's not much out of the way,--and I'll
ask him."

"In that wagon?" said I. "Will you stop at Mr. Ball's door in
that?"

"Certainly," said she, as she arranged herself on the board which