I had sauntered along considerably in advance, and as I approached the bower I was not a little surprised to see from a distance that the door-curtain was drawn half open. I stopped to listen, but there was no sound, only a wild bird piping its three little notes, down by the mill. I cautiously went up, and peeped into the little window, and there stood a man on the rug! He seemed to be looking about. I think I never was so frightened. I ran back, and whispered to the rest the dreadful state of things. They looked horror-stricken. Lib changed color, but just stood still. Then she said,--"There's plenty of help over at the mill." "Oh, let us go no nearer, but get home as fast as we can," I said. Lib raised her hand in warning for us to keep still, and we crept along, softly, behind the bower; and when we had gotten so far, we all turned around and ran for dear life into the woods again. "This is nonsense," said Lib. "You were mistaken, Mollie, I'm sure." I said I'd go back with her, and she could see for herself. We crept to the back of the bower, and Lib leaned over and looked in. Lib turned pale, caught hold of my hand and Dora's, and ran quite a distance toward the mill. Then she stopped, and said, as true as she was alive, there was a man in there; he stood with a large stick resting on his shoulder, upon which was slung a bundle, tied up in a red handkerchief, his clothing was ragged, and his hat was very dilapidated. "Oh, Lib, I'm going to run for it," said I. "Wait a minute," said she. "I don't hear any noise. Let's think; if we didn't have to go right in front of the door, we could get to the mill." All this time we were edging ourselves as far away from the dangerous precincts as we conveniently could. She stood again, perfectly still. "I won't go another step," she said. That moment's reflect had re-instated her courage. "He don't come out; I should say that was making an informal call when the ladies were out. He's a beautiful-looking specimen anyway," said Lib, with fine irony; and as she said this, she frowned, and put her head back. No sound was heard, and no demonstrations from the interloper were made. The sight of the mill-wagon, going slowly down the road, gave us heart, and Lib said: "I'll go and order him out, be the consequences what they may. Mollie, you're good at screaming, you can bring the miller here if we have to get help." "Don't! Don't! I would rather he stole all our things; let him have the tarts and the cocoanut cake, and the jam, and the pickles, and the cheese, and the sandwiches! Let him have them in welcome! I'm going to fly home!" "I want Mrs. Snobley!" sobbed Dora. Lib never said another word. She walked up to the entrance, and pulled aside the curtain, and there stood the semblance of a man. In his extended hand was a card, on which was very badly printed: "_I'm a poor b'y,--I want a home._" "_References exchanged._" "_I'll scrape the mud off me boots, if ye'll let me in._"