tes, clapping his hands,
which were encased in gray woollen mittens, in order to restore some
warmth to those almost frozen members. As he walked back and forth, he
said several times, half aloud to himself, "I don't b'lieve she's comin'
anyway. I s'pose she's goin' to stay ter hum and spend the evenin' with
him." Finally he resumed his old position near the corner and assumed
his previous expectant attitude.

As he looked down the road, a man came out of Mrs. Hawkins's boarding
house, crossed the road and walked swiftly towards him.

As the new-comer neared him, he called out, "Hello, Pettengill! is that
you? Confounded cold, ain't it? Who wuz yer waitin' for? Been up to the
schoolhouse yet?"

To these inquiries 'Zekiel responded: "No!" and added, "I saw yer comin'
out of the house and thought I'd walk up with yer."

"Wall! they can't do nuthin' till I git thar," said Mr. Obadiah Strout,
the singing-master, "so we shall both be on time. By the way," he
continued, "I was up to Boston to-day to git some things I wanted for
the concert to-morrer night, and the minister asked me to buy some new
music books for the church choir, and I'm goin' up there fust to take
'em;" and 'Zekiel's attention was attracted to a package that Mr. Strout
held under his arm. "Say, Pettengill!" continued Mr. Strout, "when yet
git up ter the schoolhouse, tell them I'll be along in a few minutes;"
and he started off, apparently forgetful of 'Zekiel's declaration that
he had intended to walk up with him.

It is evident that 'Zekiel's statement was untruthful, for his words
have betrayed the fact that it was not the Professor of whom he had been
thinking.

'Zekiel did not move from his position until he had seen Strout turn
into the yard that led to the front door of the minister's house. Then
he said to himself again, "I don't believe she's comin', arter all."

As he spoke the words a deep, heavy sigh came from his great, honest
heart, heard only by the leaflless trees through which the winter wind
moaned as if in sympathy.

What was going on in the little red schoolhouse? The occasion was the
last rehearsal of the Eastborough Singing Society, which had been
studying vocal music assiduously for the last three months under the
direction of Professor Obadiah Strout, and was to give its annual
conceit the following evening at the Town Hall at Eastborough.

A modest sum had been raised by subscription. A big barge had been hired
in Cottonto