houghtful Lill, "we ought to have got him some
supper."

"I thought of it," said the sick woman, "but you know we have nothing
fit to set before him."

"He won't famish," said Rufe, "with the large supply of sauce which he
keeps on hand! Mother, I wish you wouldn't ever speak of our Betterson
blood again; it only makes us ridiculous."

Thereupon Mrs. Betterson burst into tears, complaining that her own
children turned against her.

"O, bah!" exclaimed Rufe, with disgust, stalking out of the room,
banging a milk-pail, and waking the baby. "Be sharpening the knives,
Wad, while I milk; then we'll dress that fawn in a hurry. Wish the
fellow had left us the doe instead."

CHAPTER VIII.

HOW VINNIE MADE A JOURNEY.

Leaving Jack to drive home the borrowed mare in the harness of the
stolen horse, and to take such measures as he can for the pursuit of the
thief and the recovery of his property, we have now to say a few words
of Mrs. Betterson's younger sister.

Vinnie had perhaps thriven quite as well in the plain Presbit household
as she would have done in the home of the ambitious Caroline. The tasks
early put upon her, instead of hardening and imbittering her, had made
her self-reliant, helpful, and strong, with a grace like that acquired
by girls who carry burdens on their heads. For it is thus that labors
cheerfully performed, and trials borne with good-will and lightness of
heart, give a power and a charm to body and mind.

It was now more than a year since George Greenwood, who had been brought
up with her in his uncle's family, had left the farm, and gone to seek
his fortune in the city. A great change in the house, and a very unhappy
change for Vinnie, had been the result. It was not that she missed her
foster-brother so much; but his going out had occasioned the coming in
of another nephew, who brought a young wife with him. The nephew filled
George's place on the farm, and the young wife showed a strong
determination to take Vinnie's place in the household.

As long as she was conscious of being useful, in however humble a
sphere, Vinnie was contented. She did her daily outward duty, and fed
her heart with secret aspirations, and kept a brave, bright spirit
through all. But now nothing was left to her but to contend for her
rights with the new-comer, or to act the submissive part of drudge where
she had almost ruled before. Strife was hateful to her; and why should
she remain where her services we