ay by day becomes
sullener and stupider and more impossible. I can see positive dislike
for my Dinkie in her eyes, and I'm at present applying zinc ointment
to Pee-Wee's chafed and scalded little body because of her neglect.
I'll ring-welt and quarter that breed yet, mark my words! As it is,
there's a constant cloud of worry over my heart when I'm away from the
shack and my bairns are left behind. This same Ikkie, apparently,
tried to scald poor old Bobs the other day, but Bobs dodged most of
that steaming potato-water and decided to even up the ledger of
ill-usage by giving her a well-placed nip on the hip. Ikkie now sits
down with difficulty, and Bobs shows the white of his eye when she
comes near him, which isn't more often than Ikkie can help--And of
such, in these troublous Ides of March, and April and May, is the
kingdom of Chaddie McKail!

_Tuesday the Second_

I may as well begin at the beginning, I suppose, so as to get the
whole thing straight. And it started with Whinstane Sandy, who broke
the wheel off the spring-wagon and the third commandment at one and
the same time. So I harnessed Slip-Along up to the buckboard, and put
the Twins in their two little crow's-nests and started out to help get
my load out of that bogged trail, leaving Dinkie behind with Iroquois
Annie.

There was a chill in the air and I was glad of my old coonskin coat.
It was almost two hours before Whinnie and I got the spring-wagon out
of its mud-bath, and the load on again, and a willow fence-post lashed
under the drooping axle-end to sustain it on its journey back to
Alabama Ranch. The sun was low, by this time, so I couldn't wait for
Whinnie and the team, but drove on ahead with the Twins.

I was glad to see the smoke going up from my lonely little
shack-chimney, for I was mud-splashed and tired and hungry, and the
thought of fire and home and supper gave me a comfy feeling just under
the tip of the left ventricle. I suppose it was the long evening
shadows and the chill of the air that made the shack look so
unutterably lonely as I drove up to it. Or perhaps it was because I
stared in vain for some sign of life. At any rate, I didn't stop to
unhitch Slip-Along, but gathered up my Twins and made for the door,
and nearly stumbled on my nose over the broom-end boot-wiper which
hadn't proved such a boon as I'd expected.

I found Iroquois Annie in front of my home-made dressing-table mirror,
with my