But what to do with the barn-Is was
the question. We had no use for t hem,
ami our ground was rapidly tilling up
with them in fact, they had ltccome a
nuisance. The milkman had stumbled
over them and wasted a can of his lac
teal merchandise, the iip-stairs-nian's
wife Lad torn Ler dresses by getting
them caught iu the sharp staves and
protruding nails. A inimlter piled
against the fence Lad fallen nHin a
small boy, whose father threuteued us
with prosecution.
One evening Jones, who lived near
by. came into our yard, and seeing the
stuff piled about asked what we inten
ded to do with the lumber. We told
him we didn't know; had loiight them
for a particular purpose, but was afraid
we should have no use for them after
all. He asked if we would sell them ;
we said. yes. He made us an otter;
consequently Mr. Jones iM-came the
happy possessor ot one hundred and
fifty barrels, of assorted calibre and
rapacity. e retired that night, se
cretly exulting on our good fortune in
getting rid of the cumbersome truck.
Hut we made nothing on our trade
with Jones. We merely accomplished
our purpose and got the lest of the up
stairs man.
The next night, as we lay on our
downy lied, just closing our eyes in
sleep, our ears were saluted witn a
terrific crash from the cellar of the up
stairs fellow. Thrice was the crash
repeated.
Heavens! there was no mistaking
that sound he had found a barrel !
Next morning great was our surprise
at seeing the up-stairs man tike some
of the barrels, and throw them into his
cellar!
We went out and asked him if he
knew to whom the barrels belonged.
