s it might almost have been possible for Mrs. Gammit to learn
to lean on a man, if he were careful not to disagree with her.

"Oh! Aigs!" said the woodsman, relaxing slightly the tension of his
sympathy. "Well, now, let's try an' git right to the root of the
trouble. Air ye plumb sure, in the first place, that the hens is
really _layin'_ them aigs what ye don't git?"

Mrs. Gammit stiffened.

"Do I look like an eejut?" she demanded.

"Not one leetle mite, you don't!" assented her host, promptly and
cordially.

"I was beginning to think mebbe I did!" persisted the injured lady.

"Everybody knows," protested the woodsman, "as how what you don't
know, Mrs. Gammit, ain't hardly wuth knowin'."

"O' course, that's puttin' it a leetle too strong, Mr. Barron," she
answered, much mollified. "But I do reckon as how I've got _some_
horse sense. Well, I _thought_ as how them 'ere hens _might_ 'ave
stopped layin' on the suddint; so I up an' watched 'em. Land's sakes,
but they was alayin' fine. Whenever I kin take time to stan' right by
an' _watch_ 'em lay, I git all the aigs I know what to do with. But
when I _don't_ watch 'em, _clost_--nary an aig. Ye ain't agoin' to
persuade me a hen kin jest quit layin' when she's a mind ter, waitin'
tell ye pass her the compliment o' holdin' out yer hand fer the aig!"

"There's lots o' hens that pervarted they'll turn round an' _eat_
their own aigs!" suggested the woodsman, spitting thoughtfully through
the open window. The cat, coiled in the sun on a log outside, sprang
up angrily, glared with green eyes at the offending window, and
scurried away to cleanse her defiled coat.

"Them's not _my_ poultry!" said Mrs. Gammit with decision. "I thought
o' that, too. An' I watched 'em on the sly. But they hain't a one of
'em got no sech onnateral tricks. When they're through layin', they
jest hop off an' run away acacklin', as they should." And she shook
her head heavily, as one almost despairing of enlightenment. "No, ef
ye ain't got no more idees to suggest than that, I might as well be
goin'."

"Oh, I was jest kinder clearin' out the underbrush, so's to git a
square good look at the situation," explained Barron. "Now, I kin till
ye somethin' about it. Firstly, it's a weasel, bein' so sly, an'
quick, an' audashus! Ten to one, it's a weasel; an' ye've got to
trap it. Secondly, if 'tain't a weasel, it's a fox, an' a _mighty_
cute fox, as ye're goin' to have some trouble in aketchin'. An'
thi