ly with
that great enemy of the human race, to whom the human race so largely
consign one another and themselves. But some did say, and emphatically
Uncle Sam, that Colonel Firm Gundry--for a colonel he was now, not by
courtesy, but commission--would never have held up his head to do it,
but must have gone on with his ravings for death, if somebody had not
arrived in the nick of time, and cried over him--a female somebody from
old England.

And, even after that, they say that he never would have cared to be a
man again, never would have calmed his conscience with the reflection,
so commonplace and yet so high--that having done our best according to
our lights, we must not dwell always on our darkness--if once again, and
for the residue of life, there had not been some one to console him--a
consolation that need not have, and is better without, pure reason,
coming, as that would come, from a quarter whence it is never quite
welcome. Enough for me that he never laid hand to a weapon of war again,
and never shall unless our own home is invaded.

For after many months--each equal to a year of teaching and of
humbling--there seemed to be a good time for me to get away and attend
to my duties in England. Of these I had been reminded often by letters,
and once by a messenger; but all money matters seemed dust in the
balance where life and death were swinging. But now Uncle Sam and his
grandson, having their love knit afresh by disaster, were eager to start
for the Saw-mill, and trust all except their own business to Providence.

I had told them that, when they went westward, my time would be come for
starting eastward; and being unlikely to see them again, I should hope
for good news frequently. And then I got dear Uncle Sam by himself, and
begged him, for the sake of Firm's happiness, to keep him as far as he
could from Pennsylvania Sylvester. At the same time I thought that the
very nice young lady who jumped upon his nose from the window, Miss
Annie--I forgot her name, or at any rate I told him so--would make him
a good straightforward wife, so far as one could tell from having seen
her. And that seemed to have been settled in their infancy. And if he
would let me know when it was to be, I had seen a thing in London I
should like to give them.

When I asked the Sawyer to see to this, instead of being sorry, he
seemed quite pleased, and nodded sagaciously, and put his hat on, as he
generally did, to calculate.

"Both o