much giggling and comment and many
questions, all of which culminated, by and
by, in a chorus of shrieking laughter.
That climax, as I learned next morning,
was over the Blight's hot-water bag.
Never had their eyes rested on an article
of more wonder and humor than that
water bag.

By and by, the feminine members came
back and we sat around the fire. Still
Mart did not appear, though somebody
stepped into the kitchen, and from the
warning glance that Mollie gave Buck
when she left the room I guessed that the
newcomer was her lover Dave. Pretty
soon the old man yawned.

``Well, mammy, I reckon this stranger's
about ready to lay down, if you've got a
place fer him.''

``Git a light, Buck,'' said the old
woman. Buck got a light--a chimneyless,
smoking oil-lamp--and led me into the
same room where the Blight and my little
sister were. Their heads were covered
up, but the bed in the gloom of one corner
was shaking with their smothered laughter.
Buck pointed to the middle bed.