The bold young musician laid down his violin suddenly. The instrument struck upon a keg of nails, and gave out an abrupt, discordant jangle, startling to the nerves. “Shet up, ye durned squeech-owl!” he exclaimed, irritably. Then, lowering his voice, he asked: “Didn't they 'low down yander in the Cove ez Widder Peters, the day her husband war killed by the landslide up in the mounting, heard a hoe a-scrapin' mightily on the gravel in the gyarden-spot, an' went ter the door, an' seen him thar a-workin', an' axed him when he kem home? An' he never lifted his head, but hoed on. An' she went down thar 'mongst the corn, an' she couldn't find nobody. An' jes then the John's boys rid up an' 'lowed ez Jim Peters war dead, an' hed been fund in the mounting, an' they war a-fetchin' of him then.” The horse's head within the window nodded violently among the shadows, and the stones rolled beneath his hoof as he pawed the ground. “Mis' Peters she knowed suthin' were a-goin' ter happen when she seen that harnt a-hoein'.” “I reckon she did,” said the blacksmith, stretching himself, his nerves still under the delusion of recent awakening. “Jim never hoed none when he war alive. She mought hev knowed he war dead ef she seen him hoein'.” “Waal, sir,” exclaimed the violinist, “I'm a-goin' up yander ter Purdee's ter-morrer ter find out what he died of, an' when.” That he was alive was proved the next day, to the astonishment of the smith and his friends. The forge was the voting-place of the district, and there, while the fire was flaring, the bellows blowing, the anvil ringing, the echo vibrating, now loud, now faint, with the antiphonal chant of the hammer and the sledge, a notice was posted to inform the adjacent owners that Roger Purdee's land, held under an original grant from the State, would be processioned according to law some twenty days after date, and the boundaries thereof defined and established. The fac-simile of the notice, too, was posted on the court-house door in the county town twenty miles away, for there were those who journeyed so far to see it. “I wonder,” said the blacksmith, as he stood in the unfamiliar street and gazed at it, his big arms, usually bare, now hampered with his coat sleeves and folded upon his chest--“I wonder ef he footed it all the way ter town at the gait he tuk when he lit out from the forge?”