don't suffer to grow in our fields to Umbagog. Let him
be who the devil he will, log-leg or leather-breeches
--green-shirt or blanket-coat--land-trotter or river-roller,
I'll let him know there is a warrant out arter him, I know."

"'Why,' sais the guide, 'he couldn't help himself, no
how he could work it. He is a friar, or a monk, or a
hermit, or a pilgrim, or somethin' or another of that
kind, for there is no eend to them, they are so many
different sorts; but the breed he is of, have a vow never
to look at a woman, or talk to a woman, or touch a woman,
and if they do, there is a penance, as long as into the
middle of next week.'

"'Not look at a woman?' sais Cran, 'why, what sort of a
guess world would this be without petticoats?--what a
superfine superior tarnation fool he must be, to jine
such a tee-total society as that. Mint julip I could give
up, I _do_ suppose, though I had a plaguy sight sooner
not do it, that's a fact: but as for womankind, why the
angeliferous little torments, there is no livin' without
_them_. What do you think, stranger?'

"'Sartainly,' said Squatter; 'but seein' that the man
had a vow, why it warn't his fault, for he couldn't do
nothin' else. Where _he_ did wrong, was _to look back_;
if he hadn't a _looked back_, he wouldn't have sinned.'

"'Well, well,' sais Cran, 'if that's the case, it is a
hoss of another colour, that. I won't look back nother,