So I came by way of a thicket along an old stone fence to the by-road,
and there, sure enough, only a little way ahead of me, was my man with
the shaggy little dog close at his heels. He was making pretty good
time, but I skirted swiftly along the edge of the road until I had
nearly overtaken him. Then I slowed down to a walk and stepped out into
the middle of the road. I confess my heart was pounding at a lively
rate. The next time he looked behind him--guiltily enough, too!--I said
in the calmest voice I could command:

"Well, brother, you almost left me behind."

He stopped and I stepped up to him.

I wish I could describe the look in his face--mingled astonishment,
fear, and defiance.

"My friend," I said, "I'm disappointed in you."

He made no reply.

"Yes, I'm disappointed. You did such a very poor job."

"Poor job!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," I said, and I slipped my bag off my shoulder and began to rummage
inside. My companion watched me silently and suspiciously.

"You should not have left the rubbers."

With that I handed him my old rubbers. A peculiar expression came into
the man's face.

"Say, pardner, what you drivin' at?"

"Well," I said, "I don't like to see such evidences of haste and
inefficiency."

He stood staring at me helplessly, holding my old rubbers at arm's
length.

"Come on now," I said, "that's over. We'll walk along together."

I was about to take his arm, but quick as a flash he dodged, cast both
rubbers and rain-cape away from him, and ran down the road for all he
was worth, the little dog, looking exactly like a rolling ball of fur,
pelting after him. He never once glanced back, but ran for his life. I
stood there and laughed until the tears came, and ever since then, at
the thought of the expression on the jolly rover's face when I gave him
my rubbers, I've had to smile. I put the rain-cape and rubbers back into
my bag and turned again to the road.

Before the afternoon was nearly spent I found myself very tired, for
my two days' experience in the city had been more exhausting for me, I
think, than a whole month of hard labour on my farm. I found haven with
a friendly farmer, whom I joined while he was driving his cows in from
the pasture. I helped him with his milking both that night and the next
morning, and found his situation and family most interesting--but I
shall not here enlarge upon that experience.

It was late afternoon when I finally surmounted the hill fro