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 "Well, you sha'n't go empty-handed, at all events," said the father. And as the pears were just ripe again he laid the choicest of the year's stock in a krattle and sent him on his way.

The boy walked along, looking neither to right nor left, but with his heart beating, lest he should come across the "Harm" out of whose way he had promised to keep himself. All went well, however, except that the sun shone down on him fiercely, so that when he too reached the wayside fountain he was glad to stop to drink and rest in the coolness.

The old wife was washing her rags in the water, and as she patted the linen, singing a ditty all out of tune. "Here comes a third of those surly dogs, I declare," she said to herself, as she saw him arrive with another load of the magnificent pears. "I suppose he'll try to make game of me too as if I didn't know the sweet smell of ripe golden pears from road-sweepings or pigs' wash! a likely thing! But I'm ready for him."

"Good morning, little mother!" said the boy in his direct way, doffing his cap as he had been taught, although she was old and ugly.

"He's sweeter behaved than the other louts, for all he doesn't look so bright-faced," said the hag to herself; and she stopped her song out of tune to return his greeting.

"May I sit down here a bit, please, good