There's a little blue-eyed one, but all she needs is feathers to make her a 'ha! ha! bird.' Drat that dog!" The Harvester took the candlestick and the box of knives, opened the door, and returned to the stoop.

Belshazzar arose, pleading in his eyes, and cautiously advanced a few steps.

The man bent over his work and paid not the slightest heed, so the discouraged dog sank to earth and fixedly watched the unresponsive master.

The carving of the candlestick went on steadily.

Occasionally the Harvester lifted his head and repeatedly sucked his lungs full of air.