The farmer’s wife, shading a candle with her hand, peered out into the dark.
“Where is it?” asked the woman, who was hard of hearing.
“It’s here! You needn’t be frightened, Maria; he can’t get away.”
“What is it, Jacob?” asked Maria, bringing the light carefully.
“I dunno rightly,” replied Jacob, “what breed it is; but I kin see it’s death on fowls.”
“How many has he took?”
“Two. One of ’em’s your best Spanish rooster!”
“Why didn’t you shoot the thing?” asked Maria.
“Fetch the light an’ I’ll show you,” cried Jacob, who was pleased with his catch. “This is where our laying hens an’ pullets has been goin’ lately.”