The man turned and looked at us again, and this time he stopped and kept
on looking.

When we got up to him we saw that it wasn't Lovell Barlow at all, but a
stranger of trampish appearance, drunk and fiery, and fixed in an
aggressive attitude.

I was naturally terrified. What if he should attack us in that lonely
spot! Grandpa was so old! And moreover, Grandpa was so taken aback to
find that it wasn't Lovell that he began some blunt and stammering
expression of surprise, which only served to increase the stranger's
ire. Grandma, imperturbable soul! who never failed to come to the rescue
even in the most desperate emergencies--Grandma climbed over to the
front, thrust out her benign head, and said in that deep, calm voice of
hers:

"We're a goin' to the house of God, brother; won't you git in and go
too?"

"No!" our brother replied, doubling up his fists and shaking them
menacingly in our faces: "I won't go to no house o' God. What d'ye mean
by overhauling me on the road, and askin' me to git into yer d--d old
traveling lunatic asylum?"

"Drive on, pa," said Grandma, coldly. "He ain't in no condition to be
labored with now. Drive on kind o' quick!"

"Kind o' quick" we could not go, but Fanny was made to do her best, and
we did not pause to look behind.