his wetter coat-sleeve. ' She ain't a hedge. She's all manner o' trees. We'll just about have to'
He paused, as professional etiquette required, 'Just about have to side her up an' see what she'll bear. But hadn't we best?' Jesse paused in his turn, both men being artists and equals.
'Get some kind o' line to go by.' Jabez ranged up and down till he found a thinner place, and with clean snicks of the handbill revealed the original face of the fence. Jesse took over the dripping stun 1 as it fell forward, and, with a grasp and a kick, made it to lie orderly on the bank till it should be faggoted.
By noon a length of unclean jungle had turned itself into a cattle-proof barrier, tufted here and there with little plumes of the sacred holly which no woodman touches without orders.
'Now we've a witness-board to go by!' said Jesse at last.
'She won't be as easy as this all along,' Jabez answered. 'She'll need plenty stakes and binders when we come to the brook.'
'Well, ain't we plenty?' Jesse pointed to the ragged perspective ahead of them that plunged downhill into the fog. 'I lay there's a cord an' a half o' firewood, let alone faggots, 'fore we get anywheres anigh the brook.'
'The brook's got up a piece since morning,' said Jabez. 'Sounds like's if she was over Wickenden's door-stones.'
Jesse listened, too. There was a growl in the brook's roar as though she worried something hard.
