A BED OF BOUGHS. 193 



being told they had no cow, he lingered five minutes 

 on the door-stone with his sooty pail in his hand, 

 putting idle questions about the way and distance, 

 etc., to the mother while he refreshed himself with 

 the sight of a well-dressed and comely-looking young 

 girl, her daughter. 



" I got no milk," said he, hurrying on after me, 

 " but I got something better, only I cannot divide it." 



" I know what it is/' replied I ; "I heard her 

 voice." 



" Yes, and it was a good one, too. The sweetest 

 sound I ever heard," he went on, " was a girl's voice 

 after I had been four years in the army, and by Jove, 

 if I did n't experience something of the same pleas- 

 ure in hearing this young girl speak after a week in 

 the woods. She had evidently been out in the world 

 and was home on a visit. It was a different look she 

 gave me from that of the natives. This is better than 

 fishing for trout," said he. " You drop in at the next 

 house." 



But the next house looked too unpromising. 



"There is no milk there," said I, "unless they 

 keep a goat." 



" But could we not," said my facetious companion, 

 "go it on that?" 



A couple of miles beyond I stopped at a house 

 that enjoyed the distinction of being clapboarded, 

 and had the good fortune to find both the milk and 

 the young lady. A mother and her daughter were 

 again the only occupants save a babe in the cradle, 

 13 



