and forth, admiring
his shadow, and thinking how much more the coat became him than it did his
young master. It had been given to him by Dr. Lacey, with the order "not
to wear it out in two days"; so Rondeau had not worn it before since the
morning when he gave his master one letter and forgot the other. He had
brought it with him to the lake, and was trying the effect of his elegant
appearance.

Chancing to thrust his hand in his pocket, he felt the long-forgotten
letter and drew it forth, then looking at it with wide open eyes and
mouth, gave vent to his surprise as follows: "Who'd a b'leved it! Here's
this letter been in my pocket two weeks. I deserve to be cracked over the
head, and anybody but marster would do it. I'll run and give it to him
now--but no, I won't," said he, suddenly slackening his pace, "I've heard
him say he could always trust me, and if I own up this time, he'll lose
his--what's the word? Conference?--Yes, conference in me. I don't believe
this letter's of any account, for its a great big letter, just like a
man's handwrite. Any way, I'll wait till I get home and consult Leffie."

The letter was accordingly put in his pocket, and in a few moments he
rejoined his master and Mr. Middleton. The next day they returned home.
Rondeau's first act was to draw Leffie aside, and after winning from her
various strong promises of secrecy, he imparted to her the astounding fact
that, "He had found one of marster's letters in his trousers--no, his coat
pocket. It had been there two weeks, and he didn't know what in cain to do
with it. If he gave it to marster now, 'twould make him lose faith in him,
and so forth."

Leffie heard him through, and then fully agreed with him that 'twas best
not to tell marster at this late hour. "But," said she, "I'd put it out of
the way, so 'twouldn't be poppin' out in sight some time."

"Shall I burn it?" asked Rondeau.

"Oh, no," said Leffie; "keep it so marster can have it, if he ever hears
of it. There's your cigar box, take it and bury the letter in it."

"Whew-ew," said Rondeau, with a prolonged whistle, "it takes you women to
calculate anything cute!"

The cigar box was brought out, and in a few moments the poor letter was
lying quietly under a foot and a half of earth.

"There," said Leffie, as Rondeau laid over the spot a piece of fresh green
turf, "nobody'll ever have any idee whose grave this is."

Rondeau rolled up his eyes, and assuming a most doleful expre