door't happens to need nailin' up?"

This fine sarcasm was not lost on Cyrus. He perceived that he had
become the victim of a harsh and ruthless dealing.

"I had the key to the front door with me, an' I thought I'd jest step
round an' nail up t'other one," he said, in the tone of one conscious
of right. "There was some nails in the wood-shed. Then I heard somebody
steppin' round inside, an' I come away."

"You come away!" repeated Mrs. Wadleigh, rising in noble wrath. "You
nailed up the' door an' come away! Well, if you! ain't a weak sister!
Mirandy, you hand me down that key, out o' the clock, while I git my
things!"

She walked sturdily across to the bedroom, and Mirandy followed her,
wringing her hands in futile entreaty.

"My soul, Marthy! you ain't goin' over there! You'll be killed, as sure
as you step foot into the yard. Don't you remember how that hired man
down to Sudleigh toled the whole fam'ly out into the barn, one arter
another, an' chopped their heads off--"

"You gi' me t'other end o' my cloud," commanded Mrs. Wadleigh. "I'm
glad I've got on stockin'-feet. Where's t'other mittin? Oh! there
'tis, down by the sto'-leg. Cyrus, if you knew how you looked with your
face plastered over o' lather, you'd wipe it off, an' hand me down that
key. Can't you move? Well, I guess I can reach it myself."

She dropped the house key carefully into her pocket, and opened the