to his bed up stairs.

Finally, Jim comes down, having seen his pet asleep, and finds the
company talking about Talbot. He and his pretty, worldly wife, finding
themselves somewhat too intimately associated with the bad fame of
Robert Belcher, had retired to a country seat on the Hudson--a nest
which they feathered well with the profits of the old connection.

And now, as they take leave of each other for the night, and shake hands
in token of their good-will, and their satisfaction with the pleasures
of the evening, Jim says: "Mr. Benedict, that was a good speech o'
yourn. It struck me favorble an' s'prised me some considable. I'd no
idee ye could spread so afore folks. I shouldn't wonder if ye was right
about Proverdence. It seems kind o' queer that somebody or somethin'
should be takin keer o' you an' me, but I vow I don't see how it's all
ben did, if so be as nobody nor nothin' has took keer o' me, an' you
too. It seems reasomble that somethin's ben to work all the time that I
hain't seed. The trouble with me is that I can't understand how a bein'
as turns out worlds as if they was nothin' more nor snow-balls would
think o' stoppin' to pay 'tention to sech a feller as Jim Fenton."

"You are larger than a sparrow, Jim," says Mr. Benedict with a smile.

"That's so."

"Larger than a hair."

Jim puts up his hand, brushes down the stiff crop that crowns his head,
and responds with a comical smile, "I don' know 'bout that."

Jim pauses as if about to make some further remark, thinks better of it,
and then, putting his big arm around his little wife, leads her off, up
stairs.

The lights of the great house go out one after another, the cataracts
sing the inmates to sleep, the summer moon witches with the mist, the
great, sweet heaven bends over the dreaming town, and there we leave our
friends at rest, to take up the burden of their lives again upon the
happy morrow, beyond our feeble following, but still under the loving
eye and guiding hand to which we confidently and gratefully commit them.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVENOAKS***

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