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was just one week after you was here, that they were hunting up in these woods with young Squire Erskine. John, the oldest, took aim at a robin that was singing on the tree just before my door: it had built its nest there early in the summer; we had fed it with crumbs from our table, and it was as tame as a chicken. I told this to them, and begged the little innocent's life so earnestly, that the boys laughed, but Erskine said, "Let the old fool have his way." They said it was nonsense to give up to my whims, and told me to take away my hand, (for I had raised it up to protect the nest) or they would fire through it. I did take it away, and the nest with it, and brought it into the house. They came swearing in, and demanded the bird. I refused to give it up; they grew more and more angry: may be Erskine might have brought them to reason, but he had walked away. They said it was their land, and their bird, and they would not be thwarted by me; and they called me, and my wife too, many a name that was too bad for a decent person's ear. They worked themselves up to a fury, and then warned me off the ground. I made no reply; for I thought when they got over their passion they'd forget it. But they returned the next day with handspikes, and threatened to pull the house down on our heads, if we did not come out of it. I have had a proud spirit in my day, Miss Jane, but old age and weakness have tamed it. I begged them to spare us our little dwelling, with tears in my eyes; and my poor old woman prayed she might bring