b us in our own
homes. If we want changes, or improvements, we'll let you know quick
enough. Till we do just let us alone, can't ye? It's all we ask."

Even Dalton, between the Scylla of Joyce's determination and the
Charybdis of her people's perversity, sometimes lost his temper
entirely, and could do nothing but anathematize them for a "pesky set of
fools" right to their faces. So a part of the old buildings still
remained, and in Bachelor's Row, where the rooms were mostly let to men
without families, lived Dan, forlornest of all in the block. It seemed,
to-day, as if the bare, paintless shanties looked worse than ever, by
contrast with their improved surroundings, while an air of neglect and
disheartenment lingered about them, impalpable but as plainly perceived
as an odor. Naked, shutterless, porchless, and hot, they stood in the
blazing afternoon sunshine, as obtrusive as the wart on a man's nose,
and as ugly. When Dan's dark gaze was uplifted to them he scowled
fiercely, and muttered,

"Out of the frying-pan into the fire! I can never stand it inside,
to-night. Guess I'll take to the woods."

He stepped from the small front platform directly into a room which
smelled strongly of leather and tobacco, where two oldish men with
grizzled beards were sitting--one in an apron, cobbling shoes on the
bench by the one window; the other, evidently a caller, close by the
open door, reading something from a newspaper and gesticulating rather
wildly. A sardonic gleam flashed across Dan's handsome face as he passed
them with a nod, and disappeared in the room beyond. This was his own,
where he stinted himself in other ways that he might keep it unshared,
thus insuring the strict privacy he courted.

It was very small and its boards were bare, but he had saved space by
making himself a bunk, in lieu of a bed, which, hung on hinges, could be
hooked up out of the way when not in use. For the rest, a couple of
chairs, a chest of drawers, and a table with a little oil stove for
cooking purposes composed the meagre furnishings. But each bit of wall
space was occupied in a manner that astonished one at first glance, for
up to the height of four feet were shelves partly filled with books and
magazines, while above them, reaching to the ceiling, were fastened pine
cases protected by glass, in which were collections of butterflies and
beetles arranged in a manner that awoke admiration even in those who
knew nothing of entomology. Bu