en as you, who are here
from east and west, from the north and the south, by each one yielding a
little of his individual whim or inclination, can thus sit together
prosperously and in peace at one board, so can our glorious family of
friendly States, on this and every other day, join hands, and like happy
children in the fields, lead a far-lengthening dance of festive peace
among the mountains and among the vales, from the soft-glimmering east
far on to the bright and ruddy west. If others still seek to join
in----"

"Ay, father," said Oliver, "there is a great danger."

"Even as by making a little way," answered the patriarch, "we could find
room at this table for one or two or three more, so may another State
and still another join us, if it will, and even as our natural progeny
increaseth to the third, fourth, tenth generation, let us trust for
centuries to come this happy Union still shall live to lead her sons to
peace, prosperity, and rightful glory."

"But," interposed Oliver, the politician, again, with a double reference
in his thoughts, it would almost seem, to an erring State or an absent
child, "one may break away in wilfulness or crime--what then?"

"Let us lure it back," was old Sylvester's reply, "with gentle appeals.
Remember we are all brethren, and that our alliance is one not merely of
worldly interest, but also of family affection. Let us, on this hallowed
day," he added, "cherish none but kindly thoughts toward all our
kindred, and if him we have least esteemed offer the hand, let us take
it in brotherly regard."

There was a pause of silence once again, which was broken by a knock at
the door. Old Sylvester, having spoken his mind, had fallen into a
reverie, and the Peabodys glancing one to the other, the question arose,
shall the strangers (Mopsey reported them to be two) whoever they may
be, be admitted?

"This is strictly a family festival," it was suggested, "where no
strangers can be rightly allowed."

"May be thieves!" the merchant added.

"Vagabonds, perhaps!" Mrs. Carrack suggested.

"Strangers, anyhow!" said Mrs. Jane Peabody.

The widow Margaret and Miriam were silent and gave utterance to no
opinion.

In the midst of the discussion old Sylvester suddenly awakening, and
rearing his white locks aloft, in the voice of a trumpet of silver
sound, cried out:--"If they be human, let 'em in!"

As he delivered this emphatic order there was a deep moan at the door,
as of one in gr