of the dense, encompassing wilderness, he saw them all trooping down
from the unenclosed passage between the two log-rooms which
constituted the house. An old hound had half climbed the fence, but
as he laid his fore-paw on the topmost rail, his deep-mouthed bay
was hushed,--he was recognizing the approaching step of his master.
The yellow curs were still insisting upon a marauder theory. One of
them barked defiance as he thrust his head between the rails of the
fence. There was another head thrust through too, about on a level
with Towser's, but it was not a dog's head. As Birt caught a
glimpse of it, he called out hastily, "Stand back thar, Tennessee!"
And then it was lost to view, for at the sound of his voice all the
dogs came huddling over the bars, shrilly yelping a tumultuous
welcome.

When Birt had vaulted over the fence, the little object withdrew its
head from between the rails and came trotting along beside him,
holding up its hand to clasp his.

His mother, standing in the passage, her tall, thin figure distinct
in the firelight that came flickering out through the open door,
soliloquized querulously: -

"Ef that thar child don't quit that fool way o' stickin' her head a-
twixt the rails ter watch fur her brother, she'll git cotched thar
some day like a peeg in a pen, an' git her neck bruk."

Birt overheard her. "Tennessee air too peart ter git herself hurt,"
he said, a trifle ashamed of his ready championship of his little
sister, as a big rough boy is apt to be of gentler emotions.