"Aunt Margaret," said Robert, thrusting himself between, "don't listen to a word he has to say. I'll tell you all about it. You see we were coming home from meeting, and little Sam got tired, and William and I made a cradle of our hands and were carrying him along very nice." "Not so very nice, either," Peabody Junior interrupted, "for I was plaguy tired." "That's what I was going to tell you, Aunt Margaret. Bill did get tired, and as we came through the Locust Wood, he made believe to see something, and run away to get clear of carrying little Sam any further." "I did see him!" said Peabody Junior, firmly. "Where was he?" the widow asked. "Behind the hazel-bush, with his head just looking out at the top, all turned white as dead folks do." Mopsey was in immediately with her dark head, crying out, "Don't belief a word of it." "I guess you saw nothing but the hazel-bush, William," said the widow. "That was it, Aunt; it was the hazel-bush with a great mop of moss on it," Robert added. Miriam sat looking on and listening, pale and trembling. "If your cousin Elbridge and Mr. Barbary should ever come back," said the widow, addressing Peabody Junior, "you would be sorry for what you have said, William." "So he would, Aunt," echoed Robert. Mopsey was in again from the kitchen; this time she advanced several steps from the door-sill into the room, lifted up both her arms and addressed the assembled company. "One ting I know," said Mopsey, "dere's a big pie baking in dat ere oven, and if Mas'r Elbridge don't eat that pie it'll haf to sour, dat I know." "What is it, Mopsey," asked Margaret, "that gives you such a faith in my son?" "I tell you what it is, Missus," Mopsey answered promptly, "dast tanksgivin when I tumbled down on dis ere sef-same floor bringin' in de turkey, every body laugh but Mas'r Elbridge, and he come from his place and pick me up. He murder any body! I'll eat de whole tanksgivin dinner myself if he touch a hair of de old preacher's head to hurt it." Suddenly changing her tone, she added, "Dey're comin' from meetin', I hear de old wagon." CHAPTER EIGHTH. THE DINNER.