od on the tiny piazza of the
cottage and looked around on the familiar scene. Then his thoughts went
back to the past. What tremendous changes had taken place since he had
left that home! He had found a father, a sister, and an uncle, and had
made a host of friends. Not only that; he was rich, and had received a
good education, and was on the fair road to success.

"David!" It was Caspar Potts who spoke, and his voice trembled. "How
different it is from what it used to be! Certainly your folks and Mr.
Wadsworth have been great friends of mine," and the old gentleman
blinked away the tears that stood in his mild eyes.

Unlocking the door of the little cottage, Dave went inside and lost no
time in throwing open a number of windows, so that the fresh summer air
from outside might dispel the dampness within. Then Caspar Potts
entered, and both ascended the narrow stairway to the upper floor. Here
was a tiny garret, which in the past had been given over mostly to the
storage of old furniture and other articles not in use.

"I trust none of the tenants have disturbed that box," remarked Caspar
Potts, when Dave had lit a candle which he had thoughtfully brought
along.

"I see the box, Professor," answered the youth. "Here, if you will hold
the candle I will get it out." And then Dave worked his way over to a
corner under the eaves, and from behind a broken rocking-chair and a
dilapidated couch, dragged forth a small wooden box, painted blue. He
threw back the cover, exposing to view thirty or forty books, covered
with dust and yellow with age.

"Good! good!" murmured the old professor, as he brushed one of the
volumes off with his coat sleeve. "Some of these books are not very
valuable, David, but a few of them will add quite a little to our
library. I had those volumes when I was a student at college," he added
proudly.

"I'll carry the box downstairs," said Dave.

Caspar Potts, candle in hand, led the way to the floor below. As he came
out into the kitchen of the cottage, he was somewhat surprised to find
two persons on the porch, talking earnestly.

"Hello, you've got visitors!" said Dave, as he set the box of books down
on a bare table. "Some one out for a look around, I suppose," he added.

"Maybe it is some one who would like to lease the farm," returned Caspar
Potts. "Let us go out and see," and he extinguished the candle.

Brushing the dust and cobwebs from his coat, Dave followed the old
professor to the p