Maria met them midway between the house and the barn. She made no comment but, stooping, brushed enough dirt off her son to assure herself that he was uninjured, then took him by the hand and dragged him, protesting at every step, into the house. Stephen followed. Maria dropped into a chair and took the crying, striking youngster up into her lap. Little Mollie, standing on a chair, was taking cups and spoons down from the cupboard. Stephen placed the potatoes upon the table. Under Maria's direction he prepared them for boiling and got them on the stove. Then, also under her orders, he made coffee. There was no conversation, other than that required to prepare the meal. Maria rose and fried the thick slices of salt pork herself. Once she sent Stephen to fetch a bucket of water. Returning with the water the little boy encountered Peter. The latter made no reference to the episode of the morning. He paused for a moment, looked at Stephen reflectively and delivered himself of that upon which he had been cogitating ever since he commenced work on the fence. "Kin yo' climb?" "Yes sir." "Well, arter dinner me an' yo' es a-goin' ter finish this hyar fence, an' I wants yo' ter holp me string bob wire on top o' hit." "Yes sir." "An' beginnin' ter-night yo' air a-goin' ter sleep outten th' loft in th' barn." "Yes sir." "An' I'm a-goin' ter fix me a big bell on top o' this hyar gate. An' when thet thar bell rings I wants thet yo' and thet gal Mollie, an' ary others I fetch hyar, should git up the ladder into thet loft lickety-split. D'y understan'?" "Yes sir." Peter turned again to his labor. "G'wan. Git along ter the house with thet water," he said, shortly. Stephen proceeded on his way. As he neared the kitchen door Mollie came flying forth, screaming. Behind her came Ambrose. He was chuckling with glee at seeing her terror. "Don't let him!--Don't let him put it on me," she cried, piteously, dodging behind Stephen that the lumbering Ambrose might not come near her. Stephen barred the path of the infant terror. "Here, what are you trying to do?" he asked. There was no reply but Stephen, looking down, saw that the loathsome object the child held by one leg in his hand, was a huge toad. Without a thought of consequences he struck the grewsome creature from the fat fingers which held it and, taking Mollie's hand led her, weeping, into the kitchen. Ambrose's howl of rage echoed in their wake. He did not attempt to follow them but carried his grievance to his father. Peter paid scant attention to the incoherent utterances of his son, but after a moment put down his tools and started for the house, the youngster, still bawling, lumbering at his heels. As the afternoon waned and the hens about the door-yard commenced flapping to roost in the limbs of convenient trees, Mollie and Stephen were conducted by Maria to the roost prepared for them in the loft under the barn eaves.