"And to think that the boy's lived through it!" Austin, roused by her entrance, yawned, stretched himself, and lazily opened his eyes.

"Is that you already, Martha ?" he said.

"Oh, how sleepy I am.

Is it really half-past seven ?" "But what does it all mean--how it is you're not killed ?" cried Martha, putting down the jug, and finding her voice at last.

"The good Lord preserve us--here's the house tumbling down about our ears and never a one of us the wiser.