CHAPTER XXI.JOEL SLOCUM.In this chapter it may not be out of place to introduce an individual who, though not a very important personage, is still in some degree connected with our story. On the night when Durward and his father were riding home from Frankfort, the family at Maple Grove, with the exception of grandma, were as usual assembled in the parlor. John Jr. had returned, and purposely telling his mother and Carrie whom he had left with ’Lena, had succeeded in putting them both into an uncomfortable humor, the latter secretly lamenting the mistake which she had committed in suffering ’Lena to stay with Mabel. But it could not be remedied now. There was no good reason for calling her home, and the lady broke at least three cambric-needles in her vigorous jerks at the handkerchief she was hemming.A heavy tread upon the piazza, a loud ring of the bell, and Carrie straightened up, thinking it might possibly be Durward, who had called on his way home, but the voice was strange, and rather impatiently she waited.“Does Mr. John Livingstone live here?” asked the stranger of the negro who answered the summons.“Yes, sir,” answered the servant, eyeing the new comer askance.“And is old Miss Nichols and Helleny to hum?”The negro grinned, answering in the affirmative, and asking the young man to walk in.“Wall, guess I will,” said he, advancing a few steps toward the parlor door. Then suddenly halting, he added, more to himself than to the negro, “Darned if I don’t go the hull figger, and send in my card as they do to Boston.”So saying, he drew from his pocket an embossed card, and bending his knee for a table, he wrote with sundry nourishes, “Mr. Joel Slocum, Esq., Slocumville, Massachusetts.”“There, hand that to yourboss,” said he, “and tell him I’m out in the entry.” At the same time he stepped before the hat-stand, rubbing up his oily hair, and thinking “Mr. Joel Slocum would make an impression anywhere.”“Who is it, Ben ?” whispered Carrie.“Dunno, miss,” said the negro, passing the card to his master, and waiting in silence for his orders.“Mr. Joel Slocum, Esq., Slocumville, Massachusetts,” slowly read Mr. Livingstone, wondering where he had heard that name before.“Who?” simultaneously asked Carrie and Anna, while their mother looked wonderingly up.Instantly John Jr. remembered ’Lena’s love-letter, and anticipating fun, exclaimed, “Show him in, Ben—show him in.”While Ben is showing him in, we will introduce him more fully to our readers, promising that the picture is not overdrawn, but such as we saw it in our native state. Joel belonged to that extreme class of Yankees with which we sometimes, though not often meet. Brought up among the New England mountains, he was almost wholly ignorant of what really belonged to good manners, fancying that he knew everything, and sneering at those of his acquaintance who, being of a more quiet turn of mind, were content to settle down in the home of their fathers, caring little or nothing for the world without. But as for him, “he was bound,” he said, “to see the elephant, and if his brothers were green enough to stay tied to their mother’s apron strings, they might do it, but he wouldn’t. No,sir! he was going to make something of himself.”To effect this, about two years before the time of which we are speaking, he went to Boston to learn the art of daguerreotype-taking, in which he really did seem to excel, returning home with some money, a great deal of vanity, and a strong propensity to boast of what he had seen. Recollections of ’Lena, his early, and, as he sentimentally expressed it, “his undying, all-enduring” love, still haunted him, and at last he determined upon a tour to Kentucky, purchasing for the occasion a rather fantastic suit, consisting of greenish pants, blue coat, red vest, and yellow neck-handkerchief. These he laid carefully by in his trunk until he reached Lexington, where he intended stopping for a time, hanging out a naming sign, which announced his presence and capabilities.After spending a few days in the city, endeavoring to impress its inhabitants with a sense of his consequence, and mentally styling them all “Know Nothings,” be-cause they did not seem to be more affected, he one afternoon donned his best suit, and started for Mr. Livingstone’s, thinking he should create a sensation there, for wasn’t he as good as anybody? Didn’t he learn his trade in Boston, the very center and source of all theismsof the day, and ought not Mr. Livingstone to feel proud of such a guest, and wouldn’t ’Lena stare when she saw him so much improved from what he was when they pickedcheckerberriestogether?With this comfortable opinion of himself, it is not at all probable that he felt any misgivings when Ben ushered him at once into the presence of Mr. Livingstone’s family, who stared at him in unfeigned astonishment. Nothing daunted, he went through with the five changes of a bow, which he had learned at a dancing-school, bringing himself up finally in front of Mr. Livingstone, and exclaiming,“How-dy-do?—Mr. Livingstone, I s’pose, it comes more natural to say cousin John, I’ve heard Miss Nichols and Aunt Nancy talk of you since I was knee high, and seems as how you must be related. How is the old lady, and Helleny, too? I don’t see ’em here, though I thought, at fust, this might be her,” nodding to Anna.Mr. Livingstone was confounded, while his wife had strong intentions of ordering the intruder from the room, but John Jr. had no such idea. He liked the fun, and now coming forward, said, “Mr. Slocum, as your card indicates, allow me the pleasure of presenting you to my mother—and sisters,” at the same time ringing the bell, he ordered a servant to go for his grandmother.“Ah, ladies, how-dy-do? Hope you are well till we are better acquainted,” said Joel, bowing low, and shaking out the folds of his red silk handkerchief, strongly perfumed with peppermint.Mrs. Livingstone did not even nod, Carrie but slightly, while Anna said, “Good-evening, Mr. Slocum.”Quickly observing Mrs. Livingstone’s silence, Joel turned to John Jr., saying, “Don’t believe she heard you—deaf, mebby?”John Jr. nodded, and at that moment grandma appeared, in a great flurry to know who wanted to see her.Instantly seizing her hand, Joel exclaimed, “Now Aunt Martha, if this ain’t good for sore eyes. Howdoyou do ?”“Pretty well, pretty well,” she returned, “but you’ve got the better of me, for I don’t know more’n the dead who you be.”“Now how you talk,” said Joel. “If this don’t beat all my fust wife’s relations. Why, I should have known you if I’d met you in a porridge-pot. But then, I s’pose I’ve altered for the better since I see you. Don’t you remember Joel Slocum, that used to have kind of a snickerin’ notion after Helleny?”“Why-ee, I guess I do,” answered grandma, again seizing his hand. “Where did you come from, and why didn’t your Aunt Nancy come with you?“’Tilda, this is Nancy Scovandyke’s sister’s boy. Caroline and Anny, this is Joel; you’ve heard tell of him.”“I’ve been introduced, thank you,” said Joel, taking a seat near Carrie, who haughtily gathered up the ample folds of her dress, lest it should be polluted.“Bashful critter, but she’ll get over it by the time she’s seen as much of the world as I have,” soliloquized Joel; at the same time thinking to make some advances, he hitched a little nearer, and taking hold of a strip of embroidery on which she was engaged, he said, “Now, du tell, if they’ve got to workin’ with floss way down here. Waste of time, I tell ’em, this makin’ holes for the sake of sewin’ ’em up. But law!” he added, as he saw the deepening scowl on Carrie’s face, “wimmin may jest as well by putterin’ about that as anything else, for their time ain’t nothin’ moren’ an old settin’ hen’s.”This speech called forth the first loud roar in which John Jr. had indulged since Nellie went away, and now settling back in his chair, he gave vent to his feelings in peals of laughter, in which Joel also joined, thinking he’d said something smart. When at last he’d finished laughing, he thought again of ’Lena, and turning to Mrs. Livingstone, asked where she was, raising his voice to a high key on account of her supposed deafness.“Did you speak to me?” asked the lady, with a look which she meant should annihilate him, and in a still louder tone Joel repeated his question, asking Anna, aside, if her mother had ever tried “McAllister’s All-Healing Ointment,” for her deafness, saying it had “nighly cured his grandmother when she was several years older than Mrs. Livingstone.”“Much obliged for your prescription, which, fortunately, I do not need,” said Mrs. Livingstone, angrily, while Joel thought, “how strange it was that deaf people would always hear in the wrong time!”“Mother don’t seem inclined to answer your question concerning ’Lena,” said John Jr., “so I will do it for her. She is in Frankfort, taking music lessons. You used to know her, I believe.”“Lud, yes! I chased her once with a streaked snake, and if she didn’t put ’er through, then I’m no ‘Judge. Takin’ music lessons, is she? I’d give a fo’ pence to hear her play.”“Are you fond of music?” asked John Jr., in hopes of what followed.“Wall, I wouldn’t wonder much if I was,” answered Joel, taking a tuning-fork from his pocket and striking it upon the table. “I’ve kep’ singin’ school one term, besides leadin’ the Methodis’ choir in Slocumville: so I orto know a little somethin’ about it.”“Perhaps you play, and if so, we’d like to hear you,” continued John Jr., in spite of the deprecating glance cast upon him by Carrie.“Not such a dreadful sight,” answered Joel, sauntering toward the piano and drumming a part of “Auld Lang Syne.” “Not such a dreadful sight, but I guess these girls do. Come, girls, play us a jig, won’t you?”“Go, Cad, it won’t hurt you,” whispered John, but Carrie was immovable, and at last, Anna, who entered more into her brother’s spirit, took her seat at the instrument, asking what he would have.“Oh, give us ‘Money Musk,’ ‘Hail Columby,’ ‘Old Zip Coon,’ or anything to raise a feller’s ideas.”Fortunately, Anna’s forte lay in playing old music, which she preferred to more modern pieces, and, Joel was soon beating time to the lively strains of “Money Musk.”“Wall, I declare,” said he, when it was ended, “I don’t see but what you Kentucky gals play most as well as they do to hum. I didn’t s’pose many on you ever seen a pianner. Come,” turning to Carrie, “less see what you can do. Mebby you’ll beat her all holler,” and he offered his hand to Carrie, who rather petulantly said she “must be excused.”“Oh, get out,” he continued. “You needn’t feel so bashful, for I shan’t criticise you very hard. I know how to feel fer new beginners.”“Have you been to supper, Mr. Slocum ?” asked Mr. Livingstone, pitying Carrie, and wishing to put an end to the performance.“No, I hain’t, and I’m hungrier than a bear,” answered Joel, whereupon Mrs. Nichols, thinking he was her guest, arose, saying she would see that he had some.When both were gone to the dining-room, Mrs. Livingstone’s wrath boiled over.“That’s what comes of harboring your relatives,” said she, looking indignantly upon her husband, and adding that she hoped “the insolent fellow did not intend staying all night, for if he did he couldn’t.”“Do you propose turning him into the street?” asked Mr. Livingstone, looking up from his paper.“I don’t propose anything, except that he won’t stay in my house, and you needn’t ask him.”“I hardly think an invitation is necessary, for I presume he expects to stay,” returned Mr. Livingstone; while John Jr. rejoined, “Of course he does, and if mother doesn’t find him a room, I shall take him in with me, besides going to Frankfort with him to-morrow.”This was enough, for Mrs. Livingstone would do almost anything rather than have her son seen in the city with that specimen. Accordingly, when the hour for retiring arrived, she ordered Corinda to show him into the “east chamber,” a room used for her common kind of visitors, but which Joel pronounced “as neat as a fiddle.”The next morning he announced his intention of visiting Frankfort, proposing to grandma that she should accompany him, and she was about making up her mind to do so, when ’Lena and Mabel both appeared in the yard. They had come out for a ride, they said, and finding the morning so fine, had extended their excursion as far as Maple Grove, sending their servant back to tell where they were going. With his usual assurance, Joel advanced toward ’Lena, greeting her tenderly, and whispering in her ear that “he found she was greatly improved as well as himself,” while ’Lena wondered in what the improvement consisted. She had formerly known him as a great, overgrown, good-natured boy, and now she saw him a “conceited gawky.” Still, her manner was friendly toward him, for he had come from her old home, had breathed the air of her native hills, and she well remembered how, years ago, he had with her planted and watered the flowers which he told her were still growing at her mother’s grave.And yet there was something about her which puzzled Joel, who felt that the difference between them was great. He was disappointed, and the declaration which he had fully intended making was left until another time, when, as he thought, “he shouldn’t be so confounded shy of her.” His quarters, too, at Maple Grove were not the most pleasant, for no one noticed him except grandma and John Jr., and with the conviction that “the Kentuckians didn’t know what politeness meant,” he ordered his horse after dinner, and started back to Lexington, inviting all the family to call and “set for their picters,” saying that “seein’ ’twas them, he’d take ’em for half price.”As he was leaving the piazza, he turned back, and drawing a large, square case from his pocket, passed it to ’Lena, saying it was a daguerreotype of her mountain home, which he had taken on purpose for her, forgetting to give it to her until that minute. The look of joy which lighted up ’Lena’s face made Joel almost repent of not having said to her what he intended to, but thinking he would wait till next time, he started off, his heart considerably lightened by her warm thanks for his thoughtfulness.
In this chapter it may not be out of place to introduce an individual who, though not a very important personage, is still in some degree connected with our story. On the night when Durward and his father were riding home from Frankfort, the family at Maple Grove, with the exception of grandma, were as usual assembled in the parlor. John Jr. had returned, and purposely telling his mother and Carrie whom he had left with ’Lena, had succeeded in putting them both into an uncomfortable humor, the latter secretly lamenting the mistake which she had committed in suffering ’Lena to stay with Mabel. But it could not be remedied now. There was no good reason for calling her home, and the lady broke at least three cambric-needles in her vigorous jerks at the handkerchief she was hemming.
A heavy tread upon the piazza, a loud ring of the bell, and Carrie straightened up, thinking it might possibly be Durward, who had called on his way home, but the voice was strange, and rather impatiently she waited.
“Does Mr. John Livingstone live here?” asked the stranger of the negro who answered the summons.
“Yes, sir,” answered the servant, eyeing the new comer askance.
“And is old Miss Nichols and Helleny to hum?”
The negro grinned, answering in the affirmative, and asking the young man to walk in.
“Wall, guess I will,” said he, advancing a few steps toward the parlor door. Then suddenly halting, he added, more to himself than to the negro, “Darned if I don’t go the hull figger, and send in my card as they do to Boston.”
So saying, he drew from his pocket an embossed card, and bending his knee for a table, he wrote with sundry nourishes, “Mr. Joel Slocum, Esq., Slocumville, Massachusetts.”
“There, hand that to yourboss,” said he, “and tell him I’m out in the entry.” At the same time he stepped before the hat-stand, rubbing up his oily hair, and thinking “Mr. Joel Slocum would make an impression anywhere.”
“Who is it, Ben ?” whispered Carrie.
“Dunno, miss,” said the negro, passing the card to his master, and waiting in silence for his orders.
“Mr. Joel Slocum, Esq., Slocumville, Massachusetts,” slowly read Mr. Livingstone, wondering where he had heard that name before.
“Who?” simultaneously asked Carrie and Anna, while their mother looked wonderingly up.
Instantly John Jr. remembered ’Lena’s love-letter, and anticipating fun, exclaimed, “Show him in, Ben—show him in.”
While Ben is showing him in, we will introduce him more fully to our readers, promising that the picture is not overdrawn, but such as we saw it in our native state. Joel belonged to that extreme class of Yankees with which we sometimes, though not often meet. Brought up among the New England mountains, he was almost wholly ignorant of what really belonged to good manners, fancying that he knew everything, and sneering at those of his acquaintance who, being of a more quiet turn of mind, were content to settle down in the home of their fathers, caring little or nothing for the world without. But as for him, “he was bound,” he said, “to see the elephant, and if his brothers were green enough to stay tied to their mother’s apron strings, they might do it, but he wouldn’t. No,sir! he was going to make something of himself.”
To effect this, about two years before the time of which we are speaking, he went to Boston to learn the art of daguerreotype-taking, in which he really did seem to excel, returning home with some money, a great deal of vanity, and a strong propensity to boast of what he had seen. Recollections of ’Lena, his early, and, as he sentimentally expressed it, “his undying, all-enduring” love, still haunted him, and at last he determined upon a tour to Kentucky, purchasing for the occasion a rather fantastic suit, consisting of greenish pants, blue coat, red vest, and yellow neck-handkerchief. These he laid carefully by in his trunk until he reached Lexington, where he intended stopping for a time, hanging out a naming sign, which announced his presence and capabilities.
After spending a few days in the city, endeavoring to impress its inhabitants with a sense of his consequence, and mentally styling them all “Know Nothings,” be-cause they did not seem to be more affected, he one afternoon donned his best suit, and started for Mr. Livingstone’s, thinking he should create a sensation there, for wasn’t he as good as anybody? Didn’t he learn his trade in Boston, the very center and source of all theismsof the day, and ought not Mr. Livingstone to feel proud of such a guest, and wouldn’t ’Lena stare when she saw him so much improved from what he was when they pickedcheckerberriestogether?
With this comfortable opinion of himself, it is not at all probable that he felt any misgivings when Ben ushered him at once into the presence of Mr. Livingstone’s family, who stared at him in unfeigned astonishment. Nothing daunted, he went through with the five changes of a bow, which he had learned at a dancing-school, bringing himself up finally in front of Mr. Livingstone, and exclaiming,
“How-dy-do?—Mr. Livingstone, I s’pose, it comes more natural to say cousin John, I’ve heard Miss Nichols and Aunt Nancy talk of you since I was knee high, and seems as how you must be related. How is the old lady, and Helleny, too? I don’t see ’em here, though I thought, at fust, this might be her,” nodding to Anna.
Mr. Livingstone was confounded, while his wife had strong intentions of ordering the intruder from the room, but John Jr. had no such idea. He liked the fun, and now coming forward, said, “Mr. Slocum, as your card indicates, allow me the pleasure of presenting you to my mother—and sisters,” at the same time ringing the bell, he ordered a servant to go for his grandmother.
“Ah, ladies, how-dy-do? Hope you are well till we are better acquainted,” said Joel, bowing low, and shaking out the folds of his red silk handkerchief, strongly perfumed with peppermint.
Mrs. Livingstone did not even nod, Carrie but slightly, while Anna said, “Good-evening, Mr. Slocum.”
Quickly observing Mrs. Livingstone’s silence, Joel turned to John Jr., saying, “Don’t believe she heard you—deaf, mebby?”
John Jr. nodded, and at that moment grandma appeared, in a great flurry to know who wanted to see her.
Instantly seizing her hand, Joel exclaimed, “Now Aunt Martha, if this ain’t good for sore eyes. Howdoyou do ?”
“Pretty well, pretty well,” she returned, “but you’ve got the better of me, for I don’t know more’n the dead who you be.”
“Now how you talk,” said Joel. “If this don’t beat all my fust wife’s relations. Why, I should have known you if I’d met you in a porridge-pot. But then, I s’pose I’ve altered for the better since I see you. Don’t you remember Joel Slocum, that used to have kind of a snickerin’ notion after Helleny?”
“Why-ee, I guess I do,” answered grandma, again seizing his hand. “Where did you come from, and why didn’t your Aunt Nancy come with you?
“’Tilda, this is Nancy Scovandyke’s sister’s boy. Caroline and Anny, this is Joel; you’ve heard tell of him.”
“I’ve been introduced, thank you,” said Joel, taking a seat near Carrie, who haughtily gathered up the ample folds of her dress, lest it should be polluted.
“Bashful critter, but she’ll get over it by the time she’s seen as much of the world as I have,” soliloquized Joel; at the same time thinking to make some advances, he hitched a little nearer, and taking hold of a strip of embroidery on which she was engaged, he said, “Now, du tell, if they’ve got to workin’ with floss way down here. Waste of time, I tell ’em, this makin’ holes for the sake of sewin’ ’em up. But law!” he added, as he saw the deepening scowl on Carrie’s face, “wimmin may jest as well by putterin’ about that as anything else, for their time ain’t nothin’ moren’ an old settin’ hen’s.”
This speech called forth the first loud roar in which John Jr. had indulged since Nellie went away, and now settling back in his chair, he gave vent to his feelings in peals of laughter, in which Joel also joined, thinking he’d said something smart. When at last he’d finished laughing, he thought again of ’Lena, and turning to Mrs. Livingstone, asked where she was, raising his voice to a high key on account of her supposed deafness.
“Did you speak to me?” asked the lady, with a look which she meant should annihilate him, and in a still louder tone Joel repeated his question, asking Anna, aside, if her mother had ever tried “McAllister’s All-Healing Ointment,” for her deafness, saying it had “nighly cured his grandmother when she was several years older than Mrs. Livingstone.”
“Much obliged for your prescription, which, fortunately, I do not need,” said Mrs. Livingstone, angrily, while Joel thought, “how strange it was that deaf people would always hear in the wrong time!”
“Mother don’t seem inclined to answer your question concerning ’Lena,” said John Jr., “so I will do it for her. She is in Frankfort, taking music lessons. You used to know her, I believe.”
“Lud, yes! I chased her once with a streaked snake, and if she didn’t put ’er through, then I’m no ‘Judge. Takin’ music lessons, is she? I’d give a fo’ pence to hear her play.”
“Are you fond of music?” asked John Jr., in hopes of what followed.
“Wall, I wouldn’t wonder much if I was,” answered Joel, taking a tuning-fork from his pocket and striking it upon the table. “I’ve kep’ singin’ school one term, besides leadin’ the Methodis’ choir in Slocumville: so I orto know a little somethin’ about it.”
“Perhaps you play, and if so, we’d like to hear you,” continued John Jr., in spite of the deprecating glance cast upon him by Carrie.
“Not such a dreadful sight,” answered Joel, sauntering toward the piano and drumming a part of “Auld Lang Syne.” “Not such a dreadful sight, but I guess these girls do. Come, girls, play us a jig, won’t you?”
“Go, Cad, it won’t hurt you,” whispered John, but Carrie was immovable, and at last, Anna, who entered more into her brother’s spirit, took her seat at the instrument, asking what he would have.
“Oh, give us ‘Money Musk,’ ‘Hail Columby,’ ‘Old Zip Coon,’ or anything to raise a feller’s ideas.”
Fortunately, Anna’s forte lay in playing old music, which she preferred to more modern pieces, and, Joel was soon beating time to the lively strains of “Money Musk.”
“Wall, I declare,” said he, when it was ended, “I don’t see but what you Kentucky gals play most as well as they do to hum. I didn’t s’pose many on you ever seen a pianner. Come,” turning to Carrie, “less see what you can do. Mebby you’ll beat her all holler,” and he offered his hand to Carrie, who rather petulantly said she “must be excused.”
“Oh, get out,” he continued. “You needn’t feel so bashful, for I shan’t criticise you very hard. I know how to feel fer new beginners.”
“Have you been to supper, Mr. Slocum ?” asked Mr. Livingstone, pitying Carrie, and wishing to put an end to the performance.
“No, I hain’t, and I’m hungrier than a bear,” answered Joel, whereupon Mrs. Nichols, thinking he was her guest, arose, saying she would see that he had some.
When both were gone to the dining-room, Mrs. Livingstone’s wrath boiled over.
“That’s what comes of harboring your relatives,” said she, looking indignantly upon her husband, and adding that she hoped “the insolent fellow did not intend staying all night, for if he did he couldn’t.”
“Do you propose turning him into the street?” asked Mr. Livingstone, looking up from his paper.
“I don’t propose anything, except that he won’t stay in my house, and you needn’t ask him.”
“I hardly think an invitation is necessary, for I presume he expects to stay,” returned Mr. Livingstone; while John Jr. rejoined, “Of course he does, and if mother doesn’t find him a room, I shall take him in with me, besides going to Frankfort with him to-morrow.”
This was enough, for Mrs. Livingstone would do almost anything rather than have her son seen in the city with that specimen. Accordingly, when the hour for retiring arrived, she ordered Corinda to show him into the “east chamber,” a room used for her common kind of visitors, but which Joel pronounced “as neat as a fiddle.”
The next morning he announced his intention of visiting Frankfort, proposing to grandma that she should accompany him, and she was about making up her mind to do so, when ’Lena and Mabel both appeared in the yard. They had come out for a ride, they said, and finding the morning so fine, had extended their excursion as far as Maple Grove, sending their servant back to tell where they were going. With his usual assurance, Joel advanced toward ’Lena, greeting her tenderly, and whispering in her ear that “he found she was greatly improved as well as himself,” while ’Lena wondered in what the improvement consisted. She had formerly known him as a great, overgrown, good-natured boy, and now she saw him a “conceited gawky.” Still, her manner was friendly toward him, for he had come from her old home, had breathed the air of her native hills, and she well remembered how, years ago, he had with her planted and watered the flowers which he told her were still growing at her mother’s grave.
And yet there was something about her which puzzled Joel, who felt that the difference between them was great. He was disappointed, and the declaration which he had fully intended making was left until another time, when, as he thought, “he shouldn’t be so confounded shy of her.” His quarters, too, at Maple Grove were not the most pleasant, for no one noticed him except grandma and John Jr., and with the conviction that “the Kentuckians didn’t know what politeness meant,” he ordered his horse after dinner, and started back to Lexington, inviting all the family to call and “set for their picters,” saying that “seein’ ’twas them, he’d take ’em for half price.”
As he was leaving the piazza, he turned back, and drawing a large, square case from his pocket, passed it to ’Lena, saying it was a daguerreotype of her mountain home, which he had taken on purpose for her, forgetting to give it to her until that minute. The look of joy which lighted up ’Lena’s face made Joel almost repent of not having said to her what he intended to, but thinking he would wait till next time, he started off, his heart considerably lightened by her warm thanks for his thoughtfulness.