le time after dinner. The woods
were never so lovely, we thought, and to add to our personal charms,
we made wreaths and garlands of ferns and wild-flowers to adorn our
persons and hats.

I had sauntered along considerably in advance, and as I approached the
bower I was not a little surprised to see from a distance that the
door-curtain was drawn half open. I stopped to listen, but there was
no sound, only a wild bird piping its three little notes, down by the
mill. I cautiously went up, and peeped into the little window, and
there stood a man on the rug! He seemed to be looking about. I think I
never was so frightened. I ran back, and whispered to the rest the
dreadful state of things. They looked horror-stricken. Lib changed
color, but just stood still. Then she said,--"There's plenty of help
over at the mill."

"Oh, let us go no nearer, but get home as fast as we can," I said.

Lib raised her hand in warning for us to keep still, and we crept
along, softly, behind the bower; and when we had gotten so far, we all
turned around and ran for dear life into the woods again.

"This is nonsense," said Lib. "You were mistaken, Mollie, I'm sure."

I said I'd go back with her, and she could see for herself. We crept
to the back of the bower, and Lib leaned over and looked in. Lib
turned pale, caught hold of my hand and Dora's, and ran quite a
distance toward the mill. Then she stopped, and said, as true as she
was alive, there was a man in there; he stood with a large stick
resting on his shoulder, upon which was slung a bundle, tied up in a
red handkerchief, his clothing was ragged, and his hat was very
dilapidated.

"Oh, Lib, I'm going to run for it," said I.

"Wait a minute," said she. "I don't hear any noise. Let's think; if we
didn't have to go right in front of the door, we could get to the
mill."

All this time we were edging ourselves as far away from the dangerous
precincts as we conveniently could. She stood again, perfectly still.
"I won't go another step," she said. That moment's reflect had
re-instated her courage. "He don't come out; I should say that was
making an informal call when the ladies were out. He's a
beautiful-looking specimen anyway," said Lib, with fine irony; and as
she said this, she frowned, and put her head back.

No sound was heard, and no demonstrations from the interloper were
made. The sight of the mill-wagon, going slowly down the road, gave us
heart, and Lib said:

"I'll go an