2;J2 TENANTS OF AN OLD FARM. 



Tliifs tlioiight was involuntary and instantaneous. It 

 was as fully rounded before my mind in that moment, 

 while runnnig in full heat, as now, Avhile I quietly 

 write under the shadow of my tent-studio beneath 

 green trees. But there was no dela}' in action ; indeed 

 there was need of haste, for the large annuals, doubly 

 strengthened by their anger, had well-nigh exhausted 

 Abby's strength, and were once more striking each other 

 with their fangs. She relinquished her hold, and between 

 whip and mallet the young farmer and I parted the 

 dogs at last, and Dolf was sent growling to his kennel. 

 Then we turned to Abby, who, meanwhile, had stood 

 intermingling with the angry shouts of the men and the 

 yelps of the dogs, earnest pleas that the poor brutes 

 should not be injured. 



"Are you hurt V' I asked. 



"Why, no! That is, I think not. Really, I hadn't 

 thought of that. But I am not sure." 



She lifted her hand ; it was covered with blood from 

 a cruel wound in the thumb. 



"Ah, I remember now. It was Dolf who bit me ; 

 but he didn't mean it, poor fellow ! lie loves me too 

 well for that. I don't think I am much hurt." 



"Not hurt, honey?" cried old Dan, who had jusl 

 arrived panting and excited. "Not hurt?" throwing 

 up his hands and showing the whites of liis eyes ; " look 

 at dat blood den I Drat dat ole dorg ! Ile'd orter be 

 massacreed, chawin' on sich a lily han' as dat ! IIol' 

 on dar a minit ; I'll fix dat bleedin'." 



He ran to the arbor vitie hedge, where numbers of 



