along the fences.

There were flagged walks leading up to all the doors, with borders of
evergreen box, which had once been trim, and still was quaint and
pleasing; there were old gardens, where everything was "all run out,"
but where the bees and birds appeared to find congenial homes; there
were gnarly old apple-trees, with bending, twisted branches that touched
the ground and made the most enticing rustic seats.

Withal, there was a calm and stillness brooding on the place that filled
one's fancy with sweet thoughts of olden times and--

"Whoo-oo-oop! Hip, hip, pip, hoo-_ray_!"

"Good _gracious_!" cried Mr. Trafton, starting from his pleasant
reverie, and clutching at the reins which lay loose upon his knee. "Good
gracious! What's that?"

"It's a boy!" said Linda, with a quite disgusted accent.

Unquestionably, it was a boy--and a boy of the most aggressively modern
type, clad in garments of the very latest cut, from his flannel
yachting-shirt to his canvas "base-ball" shoes--a boy with a look as
well as a voice, which proclaimed him all alive.

His close-cropped head was bare, and his white straw hat came spinning
over the stone wall and into the middle of the road, as if impelled by
steam-power, before the boy himself scrambled over, giving vent to
another whoop, which would have done credit to a Comanche gone mad.

The whoop and the hat together were enough to startle almost any horse;
and, although Mr. Trafton's fine roadster, "Billy," was pretty well
trained, the combined effect was a little too much for his nerves. He
gave a sidelong leap and started to run. His master checked him sharply,
and veering from the road, he ran the wheels into a deep rut, and over
went the buggy with a crash!

Linda screamed, as she was pitched headlong into a thicket of sweet-fern
which grew along the roadside; but the bushes broke her fall, and,
beyond the fright and a scratched hand, she received no injury.

Her father was equally fortunate, and, as Billy had recovered from his
momentary panic and did not run, the accident appeared, at the first
glance, to be nothing serious.

The boy who had caused it came forward, with a look of trepidation upon
his countenance, exclaiming:

"I'm awfully sorry, sir; I didn't mean to frighten your horse. I was
down behind the wall and didn't see you coming, or I wouldn't have
thrown my hat so. I was only scaring a squirrel."

"He must have been pretty thoroughly scared," said Mr.