y seized upon a few salient points, that presented themselves to my
mind, and portrayed them with as few hasty touches as I could, without
order, and with little study for effect. How much must be gone over in
silence, and left entirely to the imagination!

The day before that which Father Brighthopes had set for his departure,
Mrs. Royden gave a dinner-party. He had become so extensively known and
so widely beloved in the society of the neighborhood, that old and young
wished to assemble and bid him an affectionate farewell.

Was ever a more cheerful gathering? We doubt it. It was a jolly,
democratic party. Father Brighthopes was grand-master of the ceremonies.
If there was one present more humble than another, he made it his
business to take him encouragingly and lovingly by the hand, and lift
him up. If it was a sister, how delicately, how tenderly he talked to
her, and showed her that bright angel of Hope, his guardian spirit, or
genius, and the ready consoler of sorrowing hearts!

Deacon Dustan was there, _without_ his new meeting-house schemes; his
quiet wife, and Harry and Jane, who were not so quiet, came in his
carriage. The Smiths were present; the deacon and his lady. Benjamin,
and Josephine, who was so "ecthethively fond of minithterth," and who
was sure she could not "thurvive the loth" of so delightful an old man
as Father Brighthopes.

Mr. Corlis came early, and had a long and earnest conversation with his
elder brother, to whom he already owed so much for his kindly warnings
and wise suggestions. Mark Wheeler was invited, but he did not come,
being unused to such society; but there was one, still less accustomed
to the ways of the world, who could not excuse himself, when Mr. Royden
sent to have him brought by main force.

It was Job, the soldier-shoemaker. He came, with his wooden leg, his
subdued voice, his sunny old face, his queer bald pate and prominent
ears, and the exhaustless fountain of good humor within his heart.

It was the first honor of the kind Job had ever received at the hands of
his neighbors. But of late a good deal of interest had been taken in his
family, and some who had laid up money to aid in the new meeting-house
project had been induced to invest a little of it in comforts and
necessaries for the poor man. He felt as though he could really afford
to abandon his bench for that day, and enjoy himself, his only objection
being the impossibility of Mrs. Bowen leaving the house