e, father, you'd better sit down to supper, and do your talking
afterward," said the farmer's wife.

So they sat down to the table, and all did full justice to the wholesome
fare, particularly Henry, who felt absolutely ravenous.

Never at the luxurious home of his father, in Madison Avenue, had the
wandering city boy enjoyed his supper as much as at the plain table of
this country farmer.

The good mistress of the household was delighted at the justice done to
her viands, considering it a tribute to her qualities as a cook.

When Philip produced his purse to pay for their supper, the farmer
absolutely refused to receive anything. "But I would rather pay,"
persisted our hero.

"Then I'll tell you how you may pay. Give us one or two tunes on your
violin."

This Philip was quite willing to do, and it is needless to say that his
small audience was very much pleased.

"I say," said Henry, "you play well enough to give concerts."

"I have done it before now," answered Philip, smiling.

They were invited to spend the night, but desired to push on to the
hotel, being refreshed by their supper and feeling able to walk three or
four miles farther.

About half-way their attention was drawn to what appeared a deserted
cabin in the edge of the woods, some twenty rods back from the road.

"I say, Philip," said Henry, "there's an old hut that looks as if nobody
lived in it. Wouldn't it be a lark for us to sleep there to-night?
It would save the expense of lodging at the hotel, and would be an
adventure. I haven't had any adventures yet."

"I have no objection," said Philip. "We'll go, at any rate, and look at
it."

They crossed the field, which seemed to have been only partially
cleared, and soon reached the hut.

It was very bare within, but on the floor, in one corner, was a blanket
spread out. There was a place for a window, but the sash had been
removed, and it was easy to step in.

"I wonder how this blanket came here?" said Philip.

"Oh, I guess the last people that lived here left it!" returned Henry.
"I say, Phil, I begin to feel tired. Suppose we lie down? I'm glad I
haven't got to walk any farther."

Philip sympathized with his new friend; and so, without much parley,
the two boys threw themselves down on the blanket, and were soon fast
asleep.

How long Philip slept he didn't know, but he was awakened by a terrible
screech, and, opening his eyes, say Henry sitting bolt upright, with
trembling limbs