Uncle Sam looked first one way and then the other, as though meditating an escape; but he hated to move, and in fact he knew there would be little use in trying it, for Billy would be after him so he finally cast an imploring eye up to his neighbor, who stooping down and looking very inquiringly into his face. 'O dear, dear! I ain't got no breath to do it.' Billy shook his head. 'Don't hear.' 'No, nor you won't if the sound has got to come out of me; it can't be done.' 'Don't hear what you say; speak a little louder.' 'I don't know.' Old Sam made noise enough this time, and if it could have been concentrated might have gone to the place, but Billy had heard something, so he nodded his head. 'From below? what place? anywhere near by?' 'Dear, dear, he'll be the death of me!' Uncle Sam was indeed in a bad case; he had at no time any breath to spare, and to be called upon to expend it, first in working with the big hammer, and then in blowing trumpets, was a little more than his good-nature could stand. He was very red in the face, breathed short and heavy, and with his old straw hat flapping violently to catch fresh supplies of air, looked wildly about for some loophole whereby to creep out from this dilemma. Just at that moment, and as Billy was again upon the point of asking for more light on the obscurity of the last sound that reached him, the shop door was darkened by the entrance of no less a personage than Sally Bloodgood herself. She came in so rapidly, that she was nigh being foul of Uncle Sam; as it was, she only impeded the motion of the old hat. She was not at all in a visiting dress, having come, as she said, 'just as she was,' to see her neighbor, Mrs. Cutter, for a minute. 'But do, la, Uncle Sam, what ails you? your face is as red as a turkey's comb. You seem to be all blowed out. It's Bloodgood, I know it is. He's been asking you questions, I know he has. You hadn't ought to try to talk to him, Uncle Sam; it's enough to kill you.' 'I believe you,' turning his eyes up at her very expressively; 'you're right there, Sally.' Billy Bloodgood now engrossed his wife's attention, by telling her the great news, 'that there was a preacher come, a nice-looking young man.' Mrs. Bloodgood looked at Mr. Cutter for an explanation. 'Do _tell_, Uncle Sam, was he a very youngerly man, very fine and delicate like?' Mr. Cutter nodded assent. 'La, me, I wonder if it's the same one that called to see Bloodgood, this mornin'. A preacher?--who upon airth would have thought it? he never said nothin' about preach'n'.' Mrs. Bloodgood had her own reasons for being so surprised; and as Uncle Sam Cutter saw clearly that her thoughts were very much troubled about the matter, he came to the conclusion to let her enjoy her mistake: 'It will teach her, may be, to be a little more careful of her tongue.'