he went to him, and asked him if he would put his name to a note of some ten or twelve thousand dollars. The deacon had never done anything of the kind before. But supposing his brother would be able to pay the note when it was due, and always being anxious to oblige everybody, when he could, he put his name to the note.

That note ruined Deacon Bissell. His brother could not pay it. He failed, and his failure swept away nearly every dollar which the deacon had been laying up for thirty years. This loss tried him very much. He wept over it—not because he needed or wanted the lost money for himself, but because, as he used to remark, it was one of his darling schemes to give all his children "a good setting out" in the world. It seemed a terrible loss to him. "If I were a young man," said he, "I might hope to get up again. But I am old. I am almost worn out. A few more years, I am afraid, will finish what there is left of me."

CHAP. V.ToC

THE YOUNGEST BOY.

The deacon had several children. At the time of his failure two or three were married, and of those that still remained at home, Samuel was the youngest. It is natural enough for you to suppose that this Samuel, as I am giving you such a long story about him, was a remarkable child, a sort of prodigy. But such is not the fact, I believe. As to his cradle life, I profess not to know much. I have not much doubt, however, that he was very like other infants—that he had his share of little troubles, and cried lustily over them; that he laughed, and frolicked, and clapped his hands, like most babies; that he went into raptures over a tin whistle and a rattle box; and that, in short, he was as wise as most people are, at that interesting age when the nursery seems to them to comprise the greater portion of the habitable globe.

SAMUEL AND THE SCHOOLMASTER.ToList

One of the first anecdotes I ever heard about Samuel—one which, though it does not make him out a prodigy, shows pretty clearly what sort of stuff he was made of, as straws show which way the wind blows—is something like this: When Samuel was quite a small boy, and before he had made much progress in his studies at school, there came to board at his father's, for a few weeks, the teacher of the district school. This man was fond of children, and took quite a fancy to little Samuel. "Samuel," said he, one night, when the boy was playing with a new ball, "did you know the world was round, like your ball?" No, he had never dreamed of such a thing, he said. He had thought it was as flat as a pancake. "Well, it is round," the teacher said, "almost as round as a ball or a marble." The little fellow was so much interested in what the good man told him, that he left his play, and said he wanted to hear all about the world. So the teacher had to get his globe, and talk to him about it, until he was hoarse.

I have heard another anecdote about the lad. There was a company of some half a dozen boys and girls at the deacon's one day, and they were all as busy as they could be. Shall I tell you what they were busy about? They were at play. They were playing with all their might. Among their plays were "blind man's buff," "tag," "puss, puss in the corner," "hide and seek," "who's got the button?" and I don't know how many other plays, which almost every child is familiar with.

While they were busy chasing each other round the yard, all of them as merry as the birds that were having a concert on the branches, over their heads, a wagon drove up, and Captain Lovechild got out of it, and went into the house. This gentleman lived in Boston. He was quite a rich man, having made a great deal of money by going to sea. The captain was a relative of Deacon Bissell, and often came to see him and his family, taking good care, generally, in his visits, to bring something with him to please the little folks.

It was almost sunset when the children were called into the house. Supper was nearly ready, and a very nice supper it was to be, for Mrs. Bissell always took great pains to make the children happy when they visited at her house.

Captain Lovechild, as usual, was glad to see the children, and the children were quite as glad to see him. They all liked him. Why they liked him, I suppose, not having thought on that subject much, they would hardly have been able to tell. But I mistrust—I give it as a sort of a guess—that the nice things he was so sure to have ready for them, when he met them, had a little to do with their affection. I remember—if you will allow Uncle Frank to travel out of his road a few paces—I remember a lesson which was once beaten into my head by my little niece. I was going away from home—to Boston, perhaps—when I called the little girl to me, and said,

"Well, Mary, I'm going away, to be gone, a long, long time."

"O, don't go, uncle," she said; "I don't want you to go away."

"But I must go, dear."

"I shall cry if you do."

"Not a great deal, I guess."

"O, yes, I shall; I shall feel very bad."

"Well, Mary, I can't stay at home; I shall have to go to Boston; and I presume you will feel sorry to have me go; but suppose I should bring you something nice when I come back—a little rabbit, or something of the kind?"

"O, then you may go, uncle," said Mary, clapping her hands, as a certain lord of the barn yard does his wings, just before crowing, and dancing up and down, as if she saw the little white rabbit, with his long ears and red eyes, actually munching his clover and bean pods on the carpet.

Ha! ha! ha! The lesson Uncle Frank learned then was, that the love of children sometimes lies on the surface of the heart, and does not reach quite to the bottom of it. However, I suppose the same is true of grown people, too, sometimes, though they are usually more careful as to what they say, so that they do not let the cat out of the bag.

But I shall be taken up as a vagrant, if I go wandering about in this style.

CHAP. VI.ToC

A NOBLE RESOLUTION.

As I said, the children all liked the good old gentleman, for some reason or other. Now I think of it, I guess the reason of their liking him might have been hid away in some sly place, as was the