f the blue. One morning I drew a tin pail of
water, bright and splashing from the well, and turned to pour a little
of it into the birds drinking-trough, a stone hollowed out at the top. I
did not do so, however, for a good reason--a man was sitting on the
stone. He had not been there a moment before, and I had heard no sound.
He was gaunt, pale, and dilapidated, and looked as if he had been in a
sort of general dog fight. He had a wild cast in his eyes and was in no
way prepossessing. His appearance suggested a burglar on sick-leave.

I confess I was startled by this apparition. I set down the pail rather
weakly.

"Why, good morning!" I said.

He replied in a high-keyed Irish intonation, at the moment rather feeble
in volume.

"C'u'd ye give a man a bite to eat fer some worrk, now?" he asked.

I was relieved. If he had demanded my purse I should not have been
surprised. I nodded eagerly.

"Yes, indeed. We need some wood. If you'll cut a little, I'll see that
you have some breakfast. You'll find the wood-pile and the ax down there
by the barn."

He rose by a sort of slow unfolding process, and I was impressed by his
height. I gave him some specifications as to the wood needed, and he was
presently swinging the ax, though without force. He lacked "pep," I
could see that, and as soon as the food was ready I called him. He ate
little, but he emptied the pot of hot coffee in record time. Then he
came down to where I was trimming some rose-bushes.

"W'u'd ye let me lie a bit on the hay?" he said. "Thin I'll do some more
of the little shtove-shticks fer yeh. I'm feelin' none too brisk this
mornin'."

"Been sick?" I asked.

"Naw, just a trrifle weery with trav'lin' an' losin' of sleep."

Inside I hesitated. It was probably overtime at housebreaking that had
told on him. I pointed at the barn, however.

"All right," I said, "take a nap--only, don t smoke in there."

He vanished, and some three hours later when I had forgotten him I
suddenly heard a sound of great chopping. Our guest had reappeared at
the wood-pile, transformed. He was no longer pale and listless. His face
was ruddy--in fact, tanned. The cast in his eye had taken on fire. Every
movement was of amazing vigor and direction. The wood-pile was
disappearing and the little heap of "stove-sticks" growing in a most
astonishing way. I called Elizabeth out to see.

"If coffee and a nap will make him do that." I said, "we'd better give
him dinner and get