od deal of the fire of youth renewed, taking care, however, in
no manner to interfere with the plans of his son. Mike buried himself
like a mole, and had actually advanced several feet, before either of
the Yankees had got even a fair footing on the bottom of his part of
the trench. As for Jamie Allen, he went to work with deliberation; but
it was not long before his naked gray hairs were seen on a level with
the surface of the ground. The digging was not hard, though a little
stony, and the work proceeded with spirit and success. All that day,
and the next, and the next, and the next, the Knoll appeared alive,
earth being cast upward, teams moving, carpenters sawing, and labourers
toiling. Many of the men protested that their work was useless,
unnecessary, _unlawful_ even; but no one dared hesitate under the
eyes of the major, when his father had once issued a serious command.
In the mean time, Joel's planting was finished, though he made many
long pauses while at work on the flats, to look up and gaze at the
scene of activity and bustle that was presented at the Knoll. On the
fourth day, towards evening, he was obliged to join the general "bee,"
with the few hands he had retained with himself.

By this time, the trench was dug, most of the timber was prepared, and
the business of setting up the stockade was commenced. Each young tree
was cut to the length of twenty feet, and pointed at one end. Mortices,
to receive cross-pieces, were cut at proper distances, and holes were
bored to admit the pins. This was all the preparation, and the timbers
were set in the trench, pointed ends uppermost. When a sufficient
number were thus arranged, a few inches from each other, the cross-
pieces were pinned on, bringing the whole into a single connected
frame, or bent. The bent was then raised to a perpendicular, and
secured, by pounding the earth around the lower ends of the timbers.
The latter process required care and judgment, and it was entrusted to
the especial supervision of the deliberate Jamie, the major having
discovered that the Yankees, in general, were too impatient to get on,
and to make a show. Serjeant Joyce was particularly useful in dressing
the rows of timber, and in giving the whole arrangement a military air.

"_Guid_ wark is far better than _quick_ wark," observed the
cool-headed Scotchman, as he moved about among the men, "and it's no
the fuss and bustle of acteevity that is to give the captain pleasure.
The