t Mrs. Randolph was less careful.

"You don't really mean to say, major," she began in her dryest,
grittiest manner, "that instead of sending to San Francisco for some
skilled master-mechanic, you are going to listen to the vagaries of a
conceited, half-educated farm-laborer, and employ him? You might as well
call in some of those wizards or water-witches at once." But the major,
like many other well-managed husbands who are good-humoredly content
to suffer in the sunshine of prosperity, had no idea of doing so in
adversity, and the prospect of being obliged to go back to youthful
struggles had recalled some of the independence of that period. He
looked up quietly, and said:--

"If his conclusions are as clear and satisfactory to-morrow as they were
to-day, I shall certainly try to secure his services."

"Then I can only say I would prefer the water-witch. He at least
would not represent a class of neighbors who have made themselves
systematically uncivil and disagreeable to us."

"I am afraid, Josephine, we have not tried to make ourselves
particularly agreeable to THEM," said the major.

"If that can only be done by admitting their equality, I prefer they
should remain uncivil. Only let it be understood, major, that if you
choose to take this Tom-the-ploughboy to mend your well, you will at
least keep him there while he is on the property."

With what retort the major would have kept up this conjugal discussion,
already beginning to be awkward to the discreet visitor, is not known,
as it was suddenly stopped by a bullet from the rosebud lips of the
ingenuous Adele.

"Why, he's very handsome when his face is clean, and his hands are small
and not at all hard. And he doesn't talk the least bit queer or common."

There was a dead silence. "And pray where did YOU see him, and what do
you know about his hands?" asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most desiccated
voice. "Or has the major already presented you to him? I shouldn't be
surprised."

"No, but"--hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like
audacity,--"when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up to
him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me how we all
were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the earthquake, and
he shook hands for good afternoon--that's all."

"And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake hands
with them?" continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips.

"Nobody, mamma; but I though