watching for thieves who used to steal the hay, for it had been a bad year for fodder.
"Here comes the thief," they said, when they heard the horse's hoofs; "now we shall catch him."
"Who's there?" they called out, so that it rang against the hill-side. No! there was no answer, the horse paid little heed, and our clerk less.
"If you don't answer I'll send a bullet through your brains, you horse-thief," they both called out, and then off went the gun, at which the horse gave such a sudden jump, that our clerk gave a bob and fell bump on the ground.
"I think," said one of the watchers, as he jumped up to look, "I think you've shot him dead as mutton;" and then, when he saw who it was, "O Lord!" he said, "if it ain't our parish clerk. You ought to have aimed at his legs, and not killed him outright."
"What's done is done, and can't be helped," said the other. "Least said soonest mended. We must keep our ears close, and bury him for a little while among the hay in the barn."
Yes! they did that, and when it was over, they lay them down to rest. In a little while came some one puffing and stamping, that the field shook again. The two who lay among the hay nudged one another, for they thought it was thieves again. Close to the barn was a stepping-stone, and there the new-comer sat down with his load, and began to talk to himself. He had been killing pigs at a farm a few days before, and thought he had been paid too little for his work, too little pay and too little board, and so he had set off and stolen the biggest porker. "He that swaps with a
