n ran home as
fast as her small legs would take her, and Master Richard Reddy, with a
vision in his mind, walked alongside his companion.

'You should tek a lesson or two, Master Richard,' said Ichabod, 'and
then thee'dst do a heap better. I'm rusty nowadaysen, but I used to love
it when I was a young un.'

Master Eichard heard nothing of this or of the advice which followed it.
He enacted many times over the small adventure of the last five minutes,
and at the end of every mental history he traced, the little figure
stood in the lane looking shyly at him over one shoulder as he turned
the corner.

II

Samson Mountain went home in an ill-temper, and, as was usual with him
when in that condition, did everything he had to do with a sulky and
noisy emphasis, bursting open doors with unnecessary violence, slamming
them with needless force behind him, and clamping heavily from room to
room. His wife, who was submissive at the surface, but unconquerable at
bottom, knew these signs, and accepted them with outer show of meekness.
Samson tramped into the sitting-room, and there found his wife alone.
He flung to the door behind him with a crash which would have been
startling if it had been unexpected, and fell heavily into a roomy
arm-chair by the fireside. Mrs. Mountain took no notice of this, but
went on placidly with her sewing. Samson threw his heavily-booted feet
noisily into the fender, and still Mrs. Mountain went on placidly,
without so much as looking at him. Stung by this disregard of his
obvious ill-humour, Samson made a lunge with his foot at the fire-irons,
and brought them down with a bang.

'Lawk a daisy me, Samson,' said his wife mildly. 'What's the matter with
the man?'

'Matter!' growled Samson. 'It's a thing as ud get a saint to set his
back up. I was down i' the bridge leasowe bare an hour ago, and who
should I see but that young imp of a Reddy along wi' that old viper of a
Bubb. Thee know'st the chap--that Ichabod.'

'I know him, Samson,' answered Mrs. Mountain. 'He's the most impudent of
all of 'em.'

'They stood atop o' the bridge,' pursued Samson, 'and I could hear 'em
talkin'. Th' ode rip was tellin' the young un that outworn lie about the
brook. I'd got a shot i' the barrel, and I'd more than half a mind to
ha' peppered him. I'd ha' done it if it had been worth while.'

'There's no end to their malice and oncharitable-ness,' said Mrs.
Mountain.

'I heard the young imp say he'd fowt o