oaken
bucket began its unimpeded descent. Slowly at first, gaining momentum
with each revolution of the windlass, down it fell, bumping against the
sides of the well, chain clanging and windlass whirring. It struck the
bottom with a splash that re-echoed, followed by a woman's scream so
piercing that the old mare started forward.

It flashed on the minds of all that at last their predictions were
verified. It was all up with "Al-f-u-r-d." They pictured him falling,
falling--down, down--his bruised, bleeding body sinking to the
bottomless depths of the old well.

[Illustration: Uncle Joe and Aunt Betsy]

Uncle Joe's feet caught in the handle of a market basket as he leaped
from the buggy and the greater number of his dozens of fresh eggs
reached the roadside a scrambled mass. The women guards gave vent to a
series of screams that brought the men hurrying from the fields.

"Al-f-r-u-d" was found, limp and apparently lifeless, his head tucked
under his body, clothes over his head, exposing the larger part of his
anatomy--a pitiable lump, lying in the sandy path twenty feet from the
well. The handle of the windlass had caught him across the shoulders,
sending him flying through the air. For days thereafter "Al-f-u-r-d" was
swathed in bandages and bathed with liniments; for a time, at least, the
family was free from the cares of guarding the old well.

The old well has given way to a modern pump, the old house has been
remodeled, but the impressions herein recorded are as clear to the
memory of the man today as they were to the child of that long ago.

CHAPTER TWO

Trouble comes night and day,
In this world unheedin',
But there's light to find the way--
That is all we're needin'.

"Al-f-u-r-d-!" "Al-f-u-r-d!" Al-f-u-r-d!"

Town life had not diminished the volume of Malinda Linn's voice. It was
far-reaching as ever. Malinda was familiarly called "Lin"--in print the
name looks unnatural and Chinese-like. Lin Linn was about the whole
works in the family. Her duties were calling, seeking and changing the
apparel of "Al-f-u-r-d", duties she discharged with a mixture of
scoldings and caresses.

When the family moved to town to live, Lin became impressed with the
propriety of bestowing the full baptismal name upon the First Born, and
to his open-eyed wonderment, he was addressed as "Alfred Griffith." But
when Lin called him from afar--and she usually had to call him, and then
go after him-