Dick!"

"Why, Auntie," exclaimed Dorothy, as she came up, "how red you are! I
knew you'd get sunburned, lying in that old boat without a parasol!
But, then, she will do it, Uncle Dick--oh, she will do it!"

VI

THE OUTLAW

Everybody knew old Jasper Trent, the Crimean Veteran who had helped to
beat the "Roosians and the Proosians," and who, so it was rumored, had
more wounds upon his worn, bent body than there were months in the year.

The whole village was proud of old Jasper, proud of his age, proud of
his wounds, and proud of the medals that shone resplendent upon his
shrunken breast.

Any day he might have been seen hobbling along by the river, or
pottering among the flowers in his little garden, but oftener still
sitting on the bench in the sunshine beside the door of the "Three
Jolly Anglers."

Indeed, they made a fitting pair, the worn old soldier and the ancient
inn, alike both long behind the times, dreaming of the past, rather
than the future; which seemed to me like an invisible bond between
them. Thus, when old Jasper fell ill and taking to his bed had it
moved opposite the window where he could lie with his eyes upon the
battered gables of the inn--I for one could understand the reason.

The Three Jolly Anglers is indeed ancient, its early records long since
lost beneath the dust of centuries; yet the years have but served to
mellow it. Men have lived and died, nations have waxed and waned,
still it stands, all unchanged beside the river, watching the Great
Tragedy which we call "Life" with that same look of supreme wisdom,
that half-waggish, half-kindly air, which I have already mentioned once
before.

I think such inns as this must extend some subtle influence upon those
who meet regularly within their walls--these Sons of the Soil,
horny-handed, and for the most part grey of head and bent with over
much following of the plough. Quiet of voice are they, and profoundly
sedate of gesture, while upon their wrinkled brows there sits that
spirit of calm content which it is given so few of us to know.

Chief among these, and held in much respect, was old Jasper Trent.
Within their circle he had been wont to sit ensconced in his
elbow-chair beside the hearth, his by long use and custom, and not to
be usurped; and while the smoke rose slowly from their pipe-bowls, and
the ale foamed in tankards at their elbows, he would recount some tale
of battle and sudden death--now in the freezing trenches