stable floor!

There was hay in the mow and I had brought a bag of oats under the seat
of the carriage.

"Isn't it just delightful," said Euphemia, "that we haven't any man?
If we had a man he would take the horse at the door, and we should be
deprived of all this. It wouldn't be half like owning a horse."

In the morning I drove down to the station, Euphemia by my side. She
drove back and Old John came up and attended to the horse. This he was
to do, for the present, for a small stipend. In the afternoon Euphemia
came down after me. How I enjoyed those rides! Before this I had thought
it ever so much more pleasant and healthful to walk to and from the
station than to ride, but then I did not own a horse. At night I
attended to everything, Euphemia generally following me about the stable
with a lantern. When the days grew longer we would have delightful rides
after dinner, and even now we planned to have early breakfasts, and go
to the station by the longest possible way.

One day, in the following spring, I was riding home from the station
with Euphemia,--we seldom took pleasure-drives now, we were so busy
on the place,--and as we reached the house I heard the dog barking
savagely. He was loose in the little orchard by the side of the house.
As I drove in, Pomona came running to the carriage.

"Man up the tree!" she shouted.

I helped Euphemia out, left the horse standing by the door, and ran to
the dog, followed by my wife and Pomona. Sure enough, there was a man
up the tree, and Lord Edward was doing his best to get at him, springing
wildly at the tree and fairly shaking with rage.

I looked up at the man, he was a thoroughbred tramp, burly, dirty,
generally unkempt, but, unlike most tramps, he looked very much
frightened. His position, on a high crotch of an apple-tree, was not
altogether comfortable, and although, for the present, it was safe, the
fellow seemed to have a wavering faith in the strength of apple-tree
branches, and the moment he saw me, he earnestly besought me to take
that dog away, and let him down.

I made no answer, but turning to Pomona, I asked her what this all
meant.

"Why, sir, you see," said she, "I was in the kitchen bakin' pies, and
this fellow must have got over the fence at the side of the house, for
the dog didn't see him, and the first thing I know'd he was stickin' his
head in the window, and he asked me to give him somethin' to eat. And
when I said I'd see in a minute if