you."

"I guess it's you that are mistaken, Fitz," said the pedler,
familiarly; "why, don't you remember Cousin Abner, that used to trot
you on his knee when you was a baby? Give us your hand, in memory of
old times."

"You must be crazy," said Fitzgerald, his cheeks red with
indignation, and all the more exasperated because he saw significant
smiles on the faces of his school-companions.

"I s'pose you was too young to remember me," said Abner. "I haint
seen you for ten years."

"Sir," said Fitz, wrathfully, "you are trying to impose upon me. I
am a native of Boston."

"Of course you be," said the imperturbable pedler. "Cousin
Jim--that's your father--went to Boston when he was a boy, and they
do say he's worked his way up to be a mighty rich man. Your father
is rich, aint he?"

"My father is wealthy, and always was," said Fitzgerald.

"No he wasn't, Cousin Fitz," said Abner. "When he was a boy, he used
to work in grandfather's store up to Hampton; but he got sort of
discontented and went to Boston. Did you ever hear him tell of his
cousin Roxanna? That's my mother."

"I see that you mean to insult me, fellow," said Fitz, pale with
passion. "I don't know what your object is, in pretending that I am
your relation. If you want any pecuniary help--"

"Hear the boy talk!" said the pedler, bursting into a horse laugh.
"Abner Bickford don't want no pecuniary help, as you call it. My
tin-cart'll keep me, I guess."

"You needn't claim relationship with me," said Fitzgerald,
scornfully; "I haven't any low relations."

"That's so," said Abner, emphatically; "but I aint sure whether I can
say that for myself."

"Do you mean to insult me?"

"How can I? I was talkin' of my relations. You say you aint one of
'em."

"I am not."

"Then you needn't go for to put on the coat. But you're out of your
reckoning, I guess. I remember your mother very well. She was Susan
Baker."

"Is that true, Fitz?"

"Ye--es," answered Fitz, reluctantly.

"I told you so," said the pedler, triumphantly.

"Perhaps he is your cousin, after all," said Henry Fairbanks.

"I tell you he isn't," said Fletcher, impetuously.

"How should he know your mother's name, then, Fitz?" asked Tom.

"Some of you fellows told him," said Fitzgerald.

"I can say, for one, that I never knew it," said Tom.

"Nor I."

"Nor I."

"We used to call her Sukey Baker," said Abner. "She used to go to
the deestrict school along of Mothe