They now entered the wood and proceeded in the direction of the noise.
"Stop!" said Tom. "Look yonder!"
Toney looked in the direction indicated, and beheld the robust form of M. T. Pate perched upon a stump, his arms and legs in violent motion, and words rolling from his lips with amazing volubility.
"What is he doing?" said Tom, "Has he gone mad?"
"No; he is practicing oratory; it is a rehearsal," said Toney.
"How would he look if we were to go up and speak to him?" said Tom.
"Like an unfortunate dog taken in the act of assassinating a sheep," said Toney. "Don't let him see us. Listen! What's that he is saying?"
"Something about the Widow Wild," said Tom. "Hear that! He says she has a heart of flint."
"Calls her a harpy," said Toney.
"It's well for him the widow does not hear him," said Tom. "What's it all about?"