cause of the horrid noise. Every one ran to the sick man's door, to
listen if it was from there that the frightful noise came. When the
door was opened, there stood all the terrified family, and, among
the rest, poor Ned with the culprit in his arms.

"It's only my new fancy rooster in my closet," said he; "I never
thought of his crowing. Poor father and mother, I am so sorry! O,
dear! dear! what shall I do? I'll carry him right down, this minute;
and I never, dear father, will do such a thing again. Who'd a'
thought of his crowing so early? and then he's such an awful buster
when he crows. Do look at him."

Ned's father was the best tempered man that ever lived, and he was
really getting well; so, after a minute or two, he burst into a fit
of laughter at the droll group assembled in his room, with poor Ned
in the midst of them in his night shirt. As soon as Ned heard his
father laugh, he scampered off on his bare feet, with his fancy
rooster in his arms, covering its head with his shirt to keep down
the crowing. He shut the creature up in the cellar, where it shouted
and screeched till morning."

Some of my most amusing recollections are of the queer scenes and
conversations at which I was present, when my kind mistress lent me
to a farmer's wife. This woman was in the habit of depending, as far
as possible, upon her neighbors for any little conveniences she
fancied, and did not like to pay the cost of. Usually she managed to
do without such a nice tea-kettle as I really was; but, when she had
company, she regularly came in for me. This was her usual way of
asking for me, after saying good morning: "All your folks pretty
well?"