Well, 'twon't do no harm, an' will keep him out of mischief. He's a reg'lar poke-noser, Deacon Meakin is. But he's routed them hens so there won't be no more egg-layin' in high places, breakin' a body's neck to hunt 'em. But, my suz! I wish you could ha' seen that man's face when he handed me over your fishin'-tackle. You'd ha' thought 'twas poison, the way he touched it."