With that he stood up again and began feeling the object. "'Tis a man's trouser leg, sure—and stocking—but there's something odd inside. Who's got a match?"
Ben had a few matches, with which he had been touching off firecrackers earlier in the day, and ventured up to the back of the wagon. Addison stood up again and struck one, while the rest of us stared as the match burned slowly.
"It is a stuffed man," cried Addison; "a scarecrow, I guess, stuffed with grass. But where have I seen those checkered pants before, to-day?—and, boys, here is a paper, pinned on to them higher up. Back the horse a little."
I backed a step, and Addison, striking another match, read aloud on the piece of paper, "THIS IS ENOCH."
"Oho!" cried Ned. "Alf and Halse did that!"
"Yes, these are Enoch's clothes, sure," said Addison. "There's his hat on a big pine knot for a head, with his pocket handkerchief tied round it for a face, and great daubs of wheel grease for mouth, eyes and nose."
"Well, that's a queer sort of joke!" remarked Willis.
"I'm glad they didn't carry Enoch's clothes clean home with them," said I.
"I was afraid they had," Addison remarked; "and I was thinking whether or not he could make it out as stealing, against them."
"Had we better take them down and send them back to him?" I asked.