178 The Chip-boxes Empty. [CHAP. X. 
stout, and remarkably muscular; her hair was of a carroty- 
red color, and thickly matted together ; her dress was scanty ; 
she was bare-legged, but wore a pair of old unlaced boots, 
such as are usually worn by plow-men. With her axe in 
one hand and her pole in the other—with her clenched 
teeth and fierce aspect—Edward could entertain no other 
idea of her than that she was mad, and that her intention 
was to brain him with her axe! He could not rush past 
her—her space filled the door-way. He could not over- 
power her, for she was much more powerful than he was. 
His suspense was dreadful. 
At last she moved one step forward; then another, until 
Edward thought he might plunge past her and escape. But 
no; she opened her lips and spoke, or rather yelled, ‘‘ Man, 
fat the sorra brocht ye in here, an’ you in siccan a mess? 
Gang oot o’ my hoose, I tell ye, this varra minit! Gang 
oot!” This appeal brought Edward to himself again. He 
apologized to her for entering her house, and begged her to 
let him remain until the rain had ceased. “ Not a minit!” 
was the sharp rejoinder; “ye'll pit my hoose afloat. Be- 
sides yer vermin, ye’ll pit’s a’ in a hobble if ye dinna gang 
oot !” 
He protested that he had nothing to do with vermin; 
but as he spoke he lifted up his hand to wipe something off 
his cheek. It was a hairy oobit! He was in a moment 
alive to the woman’s expostulations. On Jooking to his 
clothes, he found that he was a moving mass of insect life. 
He cleared the room in a bound, regardless of the woman’s 
axe and cudgel. He went into an old shed, threw off his 
coat and waistcoat, and found them a mass of creeping 
things. On searching his pockets, he found that all the 
chip-boxes had given way, and that the whole of the collec- 
tion which he had made during the last three days was lost. 
He might have collected the insects from his clothing, but 
he had nothing to put them in. He now found that he 
was the lunatic, and not the woman. Before he departed, 
