The boards creaked heavily as he walked to and fro, and the slapping sound of the paint-brush sounded loud in the sweet harmony of the night.

The majestic moon swung slowly round the corner of the barn, and fell upon the old man's grizzled head and bent shoulders.

The horses inside could be heard stamping the mosquitoes away, and chewing their hay in pleasant chorus.
The little figure seated on the saw-horse drew the shawl closer about her thin shoulders.

Her eyes were in shadow, and her hands were wrapped in her shawl.

At last she spoke in a curious tone.
"Well, I don't know as you _was_ so very much to blame.