s toes.

With a hoarse squeak of surprise and pain the good lady jumped
backwards, and hopped for some seconds on one foot while she gripped
the other with both hands. It was a sharp and disconcerting blow. As
the pain subsided a concentrated fury took its place. The porcupine
was now staring down at her, in mild wonder at her inexplicable
gyrations. She glared up at him, and the tufts of grey hair about her
sunbonnet seemed to rise and stand rigid.

"Ye think ye're smart!" she muttered through her set teeth. "But I'll
fix ye fer that! Jest you wait!" And turning on her heel she stalked
back to the house. The big, brown teapot was on the back of the stove,
where it had stood since breakfast, with a brew rust-red and
bitter-strong enough to tan a moose-hide. Not until she had reheated
it and consumed five cups, sweetened with molasses, did she recover
any measure of self-complacency.

That same evening, when the last of the sunset was fading in
pale violet over the stump pasture and her two cow-bells were
_tonk-tonking_ softly along the edge of the dim alder swamp, Mrs.
Gammit stealthily placed the traps according to the woodsman's
directions. Between the massive logs which formed the foundations
of the barn and shed, there were openings numerous enough, and
some of them spacious enough, almost, to admit a bear--a very
small, emaciated bear. Selecting three of these, which somehow
seemed to her fancy particularly adapted to catch a porcupine's
taste, she set the traps, tied them, and covered them lightly
with fine rubbish so that, as she murmured to herself when all
was done, "everythin' looked as nat'ral as nawthin'." Then, when
her evening chores were finished, she betook herself to her
slumbers, in calm confidence that in the morning she would find
one or more porcupines in the trap.

Having a clear conscience and a fine appetite, in spite of the potency
of her tea Mrs. Gammit slept soundly. Nevertheless, along toward dawn,
in that hour when dream and fact confuse themselves, her nightcapped
ears became aware of a strange sound in the yard. She snorted
impatiently and sat up in bed. Could some beneficent creature of the
night be out there sawing wood for her? It sounded like it. But she
rejected the idea at once. Rubbing her eyes with both fists, she crept
to the window and looked out.

There was a round moon in the sky, shining over the roof of the barn,
and the yard was full of a white, witchy radiance. In th