head looks like a chaff-pen on a windy mornin'. What did you go swimmin' for?"
"Hobson's choice," said I.
"Was the ferry washed out?" he asked.
"It was out," I said. "How it got out is a heifer of another drove."
"An' did you swim the cattle?" The man leaned out of the door.
I pointed my finger to the drove coming down the road. "There they are," said I. "Do you see any wings on them?"
"Lord love me!" cried the tavern-keeper, "I 'd never put cattle in the Valley when it was up, unless I wanted to see their tails a stickin' out o' the drift-wood. Why did n't you wait until they fixed the ferry? What was your hurry?"
"No matter about that hurry," said I. "Just now we have another hurry that is a trifle more urgent. We want a field for the cattle, and corn and clover hay and plenty of bedding for the horses, and something hot for supper. We are all as hungry as Job's turkey."
"One thing at a time, Quiller," said the
