through with the horses. Phonny immediately put the bars up again,
took the bridle of his own horse from Wallace's hands, threw it up
over the horse's head, and then by the help of a large log which lay
by the side of the road, he mounted. He did all this in a hurried
manner, and ended with saying:

"Now, Cousin Wallace, let's push on. I don't think it's more than half
a mile to the mill."

CHAPTER III.

THE PLOWING.

While Wallace and Phonny were taking their ride, as described in the
last chapter, Stuyvesant and Beechnut were plowing.

Beechnut told Stuyvesant that he was ready to yoke up, as he called
it, as soon as the horses had gone.

"Well," said Stuyvesant, "I will come. I have got to go up to my room
a minute first."

So Stuyvesant went up to his room, feeling in his pockets as he
ascended the stairs, to find the keys of his trunk. When he reached
his room, he kneeled down before his trunk and unlocked it.

He raised the lid and began to take out the things. He took them out
very carefully, and laid them in order upon a table which was near the
trunk. There were clothes of various kinds, some books, and several
parcels, put up neatly in paper. Stuyvesant stopped at one of these
parcels, which seemed to be of an irregular shape, and began to feel
of what it contained through the paper.

"What is this?" said he to himself. "I wonder what it can be. Oh, I
remember now, it is my watch-compass."

What Stuyvesant called his watch-compass, was a small pocket-compass
made in the form of a watch. It was in a very pretty brass case, about
as large as a lady's watch, and it had a little handle at the side, to
fasten a watch-ribbon to. Stuyvesant's uncle had given him this
compass a great many years before. Stuyvesant had kept it very
carefully in his drawer at home, intending when he should go into the
country to take it with him, supposing that it would be useful to him
in the woods. His sister had given him a black ribbon to fasten to the
handle. The ribbon was long enough to go round Stuyvesant's neck,
while the compass was in his waistcoat pocket.

Stuyvesant untied the string, which was around the paper that
contained his compass, and took it off. He then wound up this
string into a neat sort of coil, somewhat in the manner in which
fishing-lines are put up when for sale in shops. He put this coil
of twine, together with the paper, upon the table. He looked at the
compass a moment to see which