ept!--There, I must be
gettin' home. I've had considerable many reminders the last half-hour
that it's about time! It's none o' my business, Mandy, but you do
spoil that cat, an' the time's not far off when he won't be a mite o'
comfort to you. Of course, I'm too intimate here to take offense, but
if the minister should happen to set in this chair when he calls, an'
see that cat promenade round an' round the rockers an' then rustle off
into the settin'-room as mad as Cuffy, he'd certainly take notice an'
think he wa'n't a welcome visitor."

"Like mistress, like cat!" sighed Amanda. "Tristram an' I get awful
set in our ways."

"Kind o' queer, Mandy, namin' a cat for your grandfather," Mrs. Benson
observed anxiously as she opened the door. "William an' me don't want
you to get queer."

"I ain't got anything better 'n a cat to name for grandfather," said
poor Amanda, in a tone that set her friend Susan thinking as she
walked homeward.

The summer wore along and there came a certain Tuesday different from
all the other Tuesdays in that year, or in all the forty years that
had gone before--a Tuesday when the Kimball side door was not opened
in the morning. No smoke issued from the chimney all day. The rooster
and his kidnapped hen flew up from the steps and pecked at the door
panels vigorously. Seven o'clock in the evening came, then eight, and
no light to be seen anywhere. The dog howled; the horse neighed; the
cow lowed ominously in the closed barn. At nine o'clock Amanda took a
lantern and sped across the field, found a pail in the shed, slipped
into the barn, milked the cow, gave the beasts hay and water, and
leaving the pail of milk on the steps, went quietly home again,
anxious lest she had done too much, anxious also lest she had not done
enough.

Next morning she stationed herself at her kitchen window and took
account of her signs. The milk-pail was overturned on the steps, the
rooster and hen perching on the rim, but there was no smoke coming
from the chimney. She thought quickly as she did everything else. She
waited long enough to make a cup of coffee, then she slipped out of
her door and up to Kimball's. Her apron was full of kindling, and on
her arm she carried a basket with a package of herbs, a tiny bottle of
brandy, one of cologne, some arrowroot and matches, a cake of hard
soap and a clean towel, bones for the dog and corn for the hen.

Caleb's door was unlocked. The dog came out of the shed evincin