"Yis—there 'tis!"
Hiel laid his head back, and burst into a loud, prolonged laugh, in which he was joined by Abner and the boys.
"Don't see nothin' to laugh at," said Zeph, with grim satisfaction. "Fact is, I can't hev these 'ere quarrels—and I won't hev 'em. That air's the place for that school'us', and it's got to stand there, and that's the eend on't. Come, boys, hurry home; mother's beans will be a-gettin cold. Gee—g'lang!" and the black whip cracked over the back of the ox-team.
Hiel was a made man. He had in possession an astounding piece of intelligence, that nobody knew but himself, and he meant to make the most of it.
He hurried first to Deacon Peasley's store, where quite a number were sitting round the stove with their Saturday night purchases. In burst Hiel:
"Wal, that air North Poganuc school'us' is moved, and settled down under the hills by the cross-road."
The circle looked for a moment perfectly astounded and stupefied.
"You don't say so!"
"Dew tell!"