that, and that, if you'd 'a' been here, you'd
'a' separated them dogs, if they'd a-chawed your arms off; that you was
very particular about such things; and that it would be a pity if he was
to think you was a dog-fightin' gentleman, when I'd often heard you say
that, now you was fixed an' settled, the one thing you would like most
would be to be made a vestryman."

I sat up straight in my chair.

"Pomona!" I exclaimed, "you didn't tell him that?"

"That's what I said, sir, for I wanted him to know what you really was;
an' he says, 'Well, well, I never knew that. It might be a very good
thing. I'll speak to some of the members about it. There's two vacancies
now in our vestry."

I was crushed; but Euphemia tried to put the matter into the brightest
light.

"Perhaps it may all turn out for the best," she said, "and you may be
elected, and that would be splendid. But it would be an awfully funny
thing for a dog-fight to make you a vestry-man."

I could not talk on this subject. "Go on, Pomona," I said, trying to
feel resigned to my shame, "and tell us about that poster on the fence."

"I'll be to that almost right away," she said. "It was two or three days
after the dog-fight that I was down at the barn, and happenin' to look
over to Old John's, I saw that tree-man there. He was a-showin' his
book to John, and him and his wife and all the young ones was a-standin'
there, drinkin' down them big peaches and pears as if they was all real.
I know'd he'd come here ag'in, for them fellers never gives you up; and
I didn't know how to keep him away, for I didn't want to let the dogs
loose on a man what, after all, didn't want to do no more harm than to
talk the life out of you. So I just happened to notice, as I came to the
house, how kind of desolate everything looked, and I thought perhaps
I might make it look worse, and he wouldn't care to deal here. So I
thought of puttin' up a poster like that, for nobody whose place was
a-goin' to be sold for taxes would be likely to want trees. So I run in
the house, and wrote it quick and put it up. And sure enough, the man he
come along soon, and when he looked at that paper, and tried the gate,
an' looked over the fence an' saw the house all shut up an' not a livin'
soul about,--for I had both the dogs in the house with me,--he shook his
head an' walked off, as much as to say, 'If that man had fixed his place
up proper with my trees, he wouldn't 'a' come to this!' An' then, as I