work because it is of basswood, which he says does not hold.'

'Are those the rails which I helped to split?'

Be it noticed here that Mr. Wynn the elder could not bear to be totally
dependent on his sons, nor to live the life of a _faineant_ while they
laboured so hard; he demanded some manual task, and believed himself of
considerable use, while they had often to undo his work when he turned
his back; and at all times the help was chiefly imaginary. No matter, it
pleased him; and they loved the dear old gentleman too well to undeceive
him.

'As to the potash business, sir, I fear it is too complicated and
expensive to venture upon this year, though the creek is an excellent
site for an ashery, and they say the manufacture is highly remunerating.
What do you think, father?' And they had a conference that diverged far
from potash.

After closely watching Davidson's management, and finding that he
realized twenty-eight shillings per hundredweight, Robert resolved to
try the manufacture. Details would be tedious. Both reader and writer
might lose themselves in leach-tubs, ash-kettles, and coolers. The 'help,'
Liberia, proved herself valuable out of doors as well as indoors at this
juncture; for Mrs. Zack's principle of up-bringing was that young folk
should learn to turn their hand to 'most everythin'. And Libby, a large
plump girl with prodigiously red cheeks and lips, had profited so far by
her training as to be nearly as clever in the field as in the kitchen.
Her great strength was a constant subject of admiration to Andy, though
the expression of any such sentiment was met by unmitigated scorn on the
lady's part.

'Why, thin, Miss Green, an' it's yerself has the beautifullest arm, all
to nothing', that ever I see; an' it's mottled brown with freckles, an'
as big as a blacksmith's anyhow. Och, an' look how she swings up the
potash kettle as light as if it was only a stone pot; musha, but yer
the finest woman, my darlin', from this to yerself all round the world
agin!'

'I guess, Mister Handy, if yer was to bring some logs, an' not to stand
philanderin' thar, 'twould be a sight better,' rejoined Miss Liberia
sourly.

'Look now,' answered Andy; 'ye couldn't make yerself ugly musthore, not
if yer wor thryin' from this till then, so ye needn't frown; but ye're
very hard-hearted intirely on a poor orphant like me, that has nayther
father nor mother, nor as much as an uncle, nor a cousin near me itself.
Though sorr