frightfully close
proximity to his gun.

"I--I think it's pleasanter, that is--I--I sometimes think it's warmer
for t-t-two in a sleigh, than--a--'tis--for one, don't you, Miss
Hungerford?" said Lovell, and gasped for breath and continued; "Now, I
think of it, you--you wouldn't think of such a thing as going to ride
with me to-night, would you, Miss Hungerford? You--you wouldn't think of
such a thing, would you now?"

"Why--if you are kind enough to invite me to go sleigh-riding with you,
Mr. Barlow?"

"_I_ think so;" said Lovell, grasping his gun, and becoming immediately
pale, though composed. "Yes'm, _I_ think so, certainly, _I_ do."

"Thank you, I will go with pleasure," I said.

"Thank you, Miss Hungerford," said Lovell, rising hurriedly. "I wish you
a pleasant day--_I_ do, with pleasure, and I hope that nothing will happen
to prevent!"

And Lovell marched back across the fields as valiantly as a man may, who,
on occasions of doubt and peril, takes the precaution to go suitably
armed.

During the day the Wallencampers indulged in a mode of recreation,
suggestive of that unique sort of inspiration to which they not
unfrequently fell victims.

They attached a horse to a boat, a demoralized old boat, which had
hitherto occupied a modest place amid the _debris_ surrounding the Ark,
and thus equipped, they rode or sailed up and down the lane. It proved a
stormy sea, and often, as the boat capsized, the air was rent with
screams of mock terror and yells of unaffected delight.

Thus the youth of Wallencamp, yes, and those who heeded not the swift
decline of years, by reason of the immortal freshness of their spirits,
disported themselves. And I was not amazed, catching a glimpse through
the school-house windows of this joyous boat on one of her return voyages
up the lane, to see Grandma Keeler swaying wildly in the stern.

Meanwhile, I managed to keep my flock indoors. But when, at four o'clock,
I took my ruler in hand to give the usual signal of dismissal, the
Phenomenon's heels had already vanished through the window, and the
repressed animal spirits of a whole barbaric epoch sounded in the whoop
with which the Modoc shot through the door.

Finally, I, myself, rode up the lane in the boat. The path was well worn
by this time, and there was no danger of a catastrophe. It seemed to me a
novel performance enough, but I had not yet been to ride in Lovell's
sleigh.

Lovell came very early, and preferred to w