are new to our ways I am going to let you rest this evening.
We will sit about the fire and tell stories. Aunt is a master hand
at that, and Saul has reminiscences of the war that are well worth
hearing if we can only get him to tell them."

"Ah, he was there, was he?"

"Yes, all through it, and is Major Basset, though he likes his plain
name best. He fought splendidly and had several wounds, though only a
mere boy when he earned his scars and bars. I'm very proud of him for
that," and Sophie looked so as she glanced at the photograph of
a stripling in uniform set in the place of honor on the high
mantel-piece.

"We must stir him up and hear these martial memories. I want some new
incidents, and shall book all I can get, if I may."

Here Randal was interrupted by Saul himself, who came in with an
armful of wood for the fire.

"Anything more I can do for you, cousin?" he asked, surveying the
scene with a rather wistful look.

"Only come and sit with us and talk over war times with Mr. Randal."

"When I've foddered the cattle and done my chores I'd be pleased to.
What regiment were you in?" asked Saul, looking down from his lofty
height upon the slender gentleman, who answered briefly,--

"In none. I was abroad at the time."

"Sick?"

"No, busy with a novel."

"Took four years to write it?"

"I was obliged to travel and study before I could finish it. These
things take more time to work up than outsiders would believe."

"Seems to me our war was a finer story than any you could find in
Europe, and the best way to study it would be to fight it out. If you
want heroes and heroines you'd have found plenty of 'em there."

"I have no doubt of it, and shall be glad to atone for my seeming
neglect of them by hearing about your own exploits. Major."

Randal hoped to turn the conversation gracefully, but Saul was not
to be caught, and left the room, saying, with a gleam of fun in his
eye,--

"I can't stop now; heroes can wait, pigs can't."

The girls laughed at this sudden descent from the sublime to the
ridiculous, and Randal joined them, feeling his condescension had not
been unobserved.

As if drawn by the merry sound Aunt Plumy appeared, and being
established in the rocking-chair fell to talking as easily as if she
had known her guests for years.

"Laugh away, young folks, that's better for digestion than any of the
messes people use. Are you troubled with dyspepsy, dear? You didn't
seem to take your