“I thought so,” said I, with a laugh, in which they both joined. “But what are you doing with that boot-jack?” “Oh, you see,” said one, with a roguish smile, “Charlie and I were having a little tussle in the sitting-room, and he picked up Mr. Snug’s boot-jack in the corner and began to pummel me with it; and jest as we were having it the worst, and were rollin’ on the floor, Mr. Snug came in and caught us in the job, and now we’re _payin’_ for it.” “How so?” I inquired, well knowing what would be the response. “Oh, you see, Mr. Snug held a diagnosis over our remains, and said he thought we were suffering, for the want of a little exercise, and ordered us on a trip to Judd’s Bridge.” “And the boot-jack?” “Oh, he said that Charlie might want to play with that some more on the way, and that he’d better fetch it along;” and with a mischievous snicker at his encumbered companion, he led him along the road in an hilarious race, while we enjoyed a hearty laugh at their expense. And this a _punishment_! Yes, here is an introduction to one phase of a system of correction as unique as the matchless institution in which it had its birth--a system without a parallel in the annals of chastisement or school government, and which for thirty years has proved its wisdom in the household management of the Snuggery. “To Judd’s Bridge!” How natural the sound of those words! How many times have I myself been on that same pilgrimage of penance! The destination of these boys is a rickety but picturesque structure which spans the Shepaug five miles below Snug Hamlet. Through three decades it looks back to its host of acquaintances of those romping lads who, in the superfluity of exuberant spirits, made havoc and din in the household. The dose is administered with wise discrimination both as to the symptoms and the needs and strength of the patient. It always proves a sterling remedy, and sometimes, indeed, a sugar-coated one, as in the case of these two ruddy, rollicking examples. [Illustration] Judd’s Bridge is but one of a score of places which serve in the administration of Snuggery discipline. It is, however, the one most remote, and its ten-mile journey is reserved as an heroic dose for extraordinary cases, after other prescriptions have been tried without avail. Next on the list comes Moody Barn, with “open doors” every day in the week to its frequent callers. This old settler, gray and weather-beaten, marks a point one mile from the Snuggery, where the still waters of the Shepaug run slow and deep--the favorite “swimming-hole” of the Snuggery. [Illustration: THE HAUNTED MILL.]