"

We looked at him. "Got what?" Dad asked, a gleam of satisfaction
appearing in his eyes.

"The toothache!--the d----d toothache!...Oh-h!"

"Ha! ha! Hoo! hoo! hoo!" Dad roared. In fact, we all roared--all but
the pressman. "OH-H!" he said, and went to the fire. Dad laughed some
more.

We ate on. The pressman continued to moan.

Dad turned on his seat. "What paper, mister, do you say you come from?"

"OH-H!...Oh-h, Lord!"

"Well, let me see; I'll have in altogether, I daresay, this year, about
thirty-five acres of wheat--I suppose as good a wheat----"

"Damn the wheat!...OOH!"

"Eh!" said Dad, "why, I never thought toothache was THET bad! You
reminds me of this old cow we be eatin'. SHE moaned just like thet all
the time she was layin' in the gully, afore I knocked 'er on the head."

Canty, the storekeeper, looked up quickly, and the pressman looked
round slowly--both at Dad.

"Here," continued Dad--"let's have a look at yer tooth, old man!"

The pressman rose. His face was flushed and wild-looking. "Come on
out of this--for God's sake!" he said to Canty--"if you're ready."

"What," said Dad, hospitably, "y're not going, surely!" But they were.
"Well, then--thirty-five acres of wheat, I have, and" (putting his head
out the door and calling after them) "NEXT year--next year, all being
well, please God, I'll have SIXTY!"

Chapter XXIV.

A Lady at Shingle Hut.

Miss Ribbone had just arrived.

She was the mistress of the local school, and had come to board with us
a month. The parents of the score of more of youngsters attending the
school had arranged to accommodate her, month about, and it was our
turn. And did n't Mother just load us up how we were to
behave--particularly Joe.

Dad lumbered in the usual log for the fire, and we all helped him throw
it on--all except the schoolmistress. Poor thing! She would have
injured her long, miserable, putty-looking fingers! Such a contrast
between her and Sal! Then we sat down to supper--that old familiar
repast, hot meat and pumpkin.

Somehow we did n't feel quite at home; but Dad got on well. He talked
away learnedly to Miss Ribbone about everything. Told her, without
swearing once, how, when at school in the old country, he fought the
schoolmaster and leathered him well. A pure lie, but an old favourite
of Dad's, and one that never failed to make Joe laugh. He laughed now.
And such a laugh!--a loud, mirthless, merciless noise.