"No," said Fleda, whose amusement seemed to be increased by the gentleman's want of understanding, "and neither did we till we came up to him. The silly fellow had been sent up for more wood, and, splitting a log, he had put his hand in to keep the cleft, instead of a wedge, and when he took out the axe the wood pinched him; and he had the fate of Milo before his eyes, I suppose, and could do nothing but roar. You should have seen the supreme indignation with which Barby took the axe and released him, with, 'You're a smart man, Mr. Skillcorn!' "
"What was the fate of Milo?" said Mr. Olmney, presently..
"Don't you remember the famous wrestler that, in his old age, trying to break open a tree, found himself not strong enough? and the wood closing upon his hands held him fast till the wild beasts came and made an end of him. The figure of our unfortunate wood-cutter, though, was hardly so dignified as that of the old athlete in the statue. Dr. Quackenboss, and Mr. Douglass, you will come in and see us when this troublesome business is done?"
"It'll be a pretty spell yet," said Earl; "but the doctor, he can go in, he ha'n't nothin' to do. It don't take more'n half a dozen men to keep one pot a-bilin'."
"Aint there teu on 'em, Mr. Douglass?" said Philetus.
END OF VOL. I.
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