oo hot
for you to stay there. You couldn't get along without me then; and you
can't get along now it seems, for all your fine feathers, without you
come here sometimes to brag of your exploits, and pretend you are
lookin' after the boy."

"Nance," said Burrill, "you're a fine old bird! 'Ow I'd like to set you
at my old father-in-law, blarst him, when he rides it too rough
sometimes, and, what a sociable little discourse you could lay down for
the ladies too, Nance; but, are you about done? You've been clean over
the old ground, seems to me, tho' I may have dozed a little here and
there. Have you been over the old business, and brought me over the
water, by the nape of the neck; because, if you haven't--no, I see you
have not, so here's to you, Nance, spin on;" and he took from his
pocket a black bottle, and drank a mighty draught therefrom.

"No, I'm _not_ done," screamed the woman. "You've come here to-night, as
you have before, for a purpose; one would think that such a fine
gentleman could find better society, but it seems you can't. You never
come here for nothing; you never come for any good; you want something?
What is it?"

He laughed a low, hard laugh.

"Yes," he said, taking another pull at the black bottle; "I want
something."

"Umph! I thought so."

"I want to tell you," here he arose, and dropping his careless manner,
laid a threatening hand upon her arm. "I want to tell you, Nance
Burrill, that you have got to bridle that tongue of yours; d'ye
understand?"

She shook off his hand, and retired a few paces eyeing him closely as
she said:

"Oh! I thought so. Something has scared ye already."

"No, I'm not scared; that thing can't be done by you, Nance; but you
have been blowing too much among the factory people, and I won't have
it."

"Won't have what?"

"Won't have any more of this talk about going to my wife with stories
about me."

"Who said I threatened?"

"No matter, you don't do much that I don't hear of, so mind your eye,
Nance. As for the women at the bend, you let them alone, and keep your
tongue between your teeth."

"Oh! I will; one can't blame you for seeking the society of your equals,
after the snubbing you must get from your betters up there. But that
don't satisfy you; you must drag that poor fellow, Evan Lamotte, into
their den; as if he were not wild enough, before you came where you
could reach him."

John Burrill took another pull at the black bottle.

"Evan's a goo