away, and sunset when he
returned to find his mother dead. He told me that "God brought him home
at that hour to make him _feel_."

Our ship was a long while repairing. Then freights were dull, and so it
lingered along, week after week. Jamie often spoke of going, but nobody
would let him. Father said he had always wanted another boy. Mother told
him I should be lonesome without him. The girls said as much as they
thought it would do for girls to say, and he stayed on. I knew he wanted
to badly enough, for I saw he liked Mary. I thought, too, that she liked
him, because she said so little about his staying. To be sure, they were
in nothing alike; but then, as Aunt Chloe said, "Opposites are more
harmonious."

My sister Cynthia was going to be published soon, and all the rest were
helping her "make her fix." Coverlets were being got into the loom, and
the great wheel and little wheel going all day Jamie liked to help them
"quill." But the best of all, both for him and me, were the quiltings;
for these brought all the young folks together.

Our nearest neighbor was a large, stout-looking man, by the name of
Wilbur. He was called Mr. Nathaniel, to distinguish him from his
brother. His house was next ours, with a hill between. He was a good,
jolly soul, had no children of his own, and was always begging mother
for a few of her girls. Nothing suited him better than a good time. If
there was anything going on at our house, he was always on the spot.

One December evening, our kitchen was full of young people. The best
bed-quilt had been quilted, and Jamie and I had been helping "roll
over," all the afternoon. In the evening, as soon as the young men came,
we hung over the molasses, and set Mr. Nathaniel stirring it. We all sat
around, naming apples. All at once he called out, "Which of you chaps
has got pluck enough to ride over to Swampsey Village to-morrow, after a
young woman he never saw?"

They all looked up, especially the girls who had beaux present. Then
came questions,--"Who is she?" "Give her name"; "Good-looking?" and many
others.

"Be thinking it over awhile," said he, and kept on stirring. But when he
was pulling the candy, he explained, dropping a few words at every pull.

"The girl," said he, "is a nice girl, and I'll be bound she's handsome.
I used to have dealings with her father, while he kept store in Boston.
We've never let the acquaintance die out. When he wrote me that he was
going to take his w