f you beg
the old man's pardon. _That story's true_. I've just found out that every
word of it is absolutely, literally the way it happened. Newtonville,
where I'm staying in Massachusetts, used to be called Kennettown, and
Jedediah _did_ take the money there--yes, that exact sum we've laughed at
all these years. They call him the honestest man in the world over there.
They've got the stick of birch-wood, with the bloodstains on it, and the
moose's skull, with the horn sawed off, and there are lots of old people
who remember all about it. And I'm here to say I believe old Jed's been
telling the truth, not only about that, but about all his adventures.
I don't believe he's ever lied to us!'

"I felt so grand and magnanimous," grandfather went on, "to think how I
was making it up to the poor old man, and so set up over bringing a piece
of news that just paralyzed everybody with astonishment. They all jumped
up, yelling and carrying on. '_What_? That story _true_! Well, did you
ever! Wouldn't that beat all? To think old Jed's been telling--"

"And then we all thought of him, and started toward the bed to say how bad
we felt.

"I'll never forget how he looked. His eyes were fairly coming out of his
head, and his face was as white as paper. But that wasn't the dreadful
thing. What always comes back to me whenever I think of him is the
expression on his face. You could just see his heart breaking. He was so
hurt, so surprised, so ashamed, that it wasn't decent to look at him. But
we couldn't look away. We stood there, hanging our heads--I never felt so
mean in my life--while he tried to get breath enough to say something. And
then he screamed out--'twas dreadful to hear:

"'Why, didn't you fellers _believe_ me? Did you think I was _lyin_?'"

Here grandfather stopped and blew his nose, and I choked.

"Those were his last words. He had some kind of a spasm, and never came to
enough to know anything before he died. Those were the last words he said;
and though they told us that in the coffin he looked just as he always
had, only more quiet, with the foolish look gone, we were all of us
ashamed to look the dead man in the face."

Here grandfather laid the flowers on the unkempt grave, as if to serve as
an "Amen" to his confession.

After this I always went around and held his hand tightly, and we stood
very still. It was the solemnest time of the year.

III

All this used to happen, as I said, when I was a litt