lline, had for once lost their
appetite, even for corn-pone and molasses; and Washington Beauregard,
the eldest of the brood of youngsters, frowned gloomily, and ground his
teeth in deep if silent rage as he polished up his antiquated old rifle
and thought upon vengeance. Only the baby crowed and gurgled as lustily
as ever, shaking his gourd rattle in blissful infantile ignorance of the
loss that had befallen the family--a loss most keenly felt by the
children, for it was that of the bonny ewe-lamb, their pet and plaything
by day, and almost their bedfellow by night; while the manner of its
disappearance was shrouded in profound mystery.

"Mebbe 'twas Butcher Killem who tuck him," suddenly suggested the
lugubrious boy twin. "Tuck him to make roasts 'n' chops of; 'n' if it
was, we may be eatin' Cotton Ball for dinner some of these fine days."

A dire prediction, which immediately sent Jemima Calline off into a wild
paroxysm of grief, flinging herself flat upon the floor, and drumming a
funereal tattoo with her best Sunday shoes on the gay rag carpet of
domestic manufacture. "I'll never taste mutton again; never, never, the
longest day I live," she howled.

"Now, Dallas Lee, see what you've done!" scolded Monongahela, usually
called Monny for short. "You've set her off agin, and we'll have her in
'sterics direckly. Thar ain't no need of any sech fool talk either, and
slanderin' your neighbor into the bargain. Mr. Killem is an honest man,
who buys 'n' pays for all the critters he cuts up. Besides, I caught the
lamb myself, and shet her up in the wood-shed before ever we started for
the bush-meetin'. I locked the door 'n' took the key in my pocket. The
door was still locked when we came back."

"Ya--as; but ye couldn't lock the hole in the roof," drawled Wash,
looking up from his polishing. "The hole pap 'n' I hev been calculatin'
to mend for some time back, but 'ain't got at yit, more's the pity.
Thar's where the thief come in. For thar on the shingles is where the
locks of wool are a-hangin'."

"But I can't see how anybody could clamber up thar, drop through a hole,
and git back agin with a big kickin' beast in his arms; for if he'd
killed it on the spot ther'd be blood spattered 'round."

"Mebbe nobody could, but mebbe some_thing_ might."

"Some thing! What sort of a thing? A fox or any other animal?"

"P'r'aps so," but Wash would say no more. He was famous for holding his
own counsel, and did so now, until the y