end. He wrenched an ax from its cleft in a chopping-block and caved in
the top of the coffin with the first blow.

The man Farr, observing from the road, saw that the casket was empty.
The old man continued to bash and batter.

The wayfarer, before the destruction was begun, had time to note that
the coffin was a remarkably fine specimen of cabinet-maker's work. There
were various sorts of wood inlaid with care, and the fretwork along
its sides had been jig-sawed with much pains spent in detail, and the
pilasters were turned with art. But the old man battered at all this
excellence with savageness. It was evident that he was not merely
providing kindling-wood--he was expending fury.

It was an affair that demanded undivided attention from the observer in
the road; but a man came around the corner of the house just then and
Farr promptly gave over his interest in the aged chopper.

The new arrival was clothed cap-a-pie in armor.

He stood quietly at a little distance and gazed from under his vizor on
the energetic old man at the woodpile.

Farr noted that the armor was obviously home-made. The helmet, though
burnished and adorned with a horse's tail, had the unmistakable outlines
of a copper kettle. The cuirass could not disguise its obligation to
certain parts of an air-tight stove. But the ensemble was peculiarly
striking and the man in the road took a quick glance around at the New
England landscape in order to assure himself that he was still where he
supposed he was.