hog's nest, an' I left it as neat as wax!"

Perhaps no man was ever more amazed than this invader. He stood staring
at her in silence.

"Can't you shet the door!" she inquired, fractiously, beginning to
untie her cloud. "An' put a stick o' wood in the stove? If I don't git
het through, I shall ketch my death!"

He obeyed, seemingly from the inertia of utter surprise. Midway in the
act of lifting the stove-cover, he glanced at her in sharp, suspicion.

"Where's the rest?" he asked, savagely. "You ain't alone?"

"Well, I guess I'm alone!" returned Mrs. Wadleigh, drawing off her icy
stocking-feet, "an' walked all the way from Cyrus Pendleton's! There
ain't nobody likely to be round," she continued, with grim humor. "I
never knew 'twas such a God-forsaken hole, till I'd been away an' come
back to 't. No, you needn't be scairt! The road ain't broke out, an' if
'twas, we shouldn't have no callers to-day. It's got round there's a
man here, an' I'll warrant the selec'men are all sick abed with colds.
But there!" she added, presently, as the soothing warmth of her own
kitchen stove began to penetrate, "I dunno's I oughter call it a
Godforsaken place. I'm kind o' glad to git back."

There was silence for a few minutes, while she toasted her feet, and
the man stood shambling from one foot to the other and furtively
watching her and the road. Suddenly she rose, and lifted a pot-cover.

"What you got for dinner?" she inquired, genially. "I'm as holler's a