It was
folded, sealed, and handed to the ready horseman, with the words:
"Reuben Dean; he is mentioned for promotion."

The words, as they were spoken by Governor Trumbull, were caught up
and gathered into a mighty cheer, for every man of their number knew
that Reuben Dean was worthy of promotion, even had his daughter not
gained it for him by her services as recruiting officer.

DAVID BUSHNELL AND HIS AMERICAN TURTLE.

THE FIRST SUBMARINE BOAT INVENTED.

"David!" cried a voice stern and commanding, from a house-door one
morning, as the young man who owned the name was taking a short cut
"across lots" in the direction of Pautapoug.

"Sir!" cried the youth in response to the call, and pausing as nearly
as he could, and at the same time keep his feet from sinking into the
marshy soil.

"Where are you going?" was the response.

"To Pautapoug, to see Uriah Hayden, sir."

"You'd better hire out at ship-building with him. Your college
learning's of no earthly use in these days," said the father of David
Bushnell, returning from the door, and sinking slowly down into his
high-backed chair.

Then spoke up a sweet-voiced woman from the kitchen fire-side, where
she had that moment been hanging an iron pot on the crane:

"Have a little patience, father (Mrs. Bushnell always called her
husband, father), David is only looking about to see what to do. It's
hardly four weeks since he was graduated."

"True enough; but where can you find an idle man in all Saybrook
town? and you know as well as I do that it makes men despise
college-learning to see folks idle. I'd rather, for my part, David
_did_ go to work on the ship Uriah Hayden is building. I wish I
knew what he's gone over there for to-day."

A funny smile crept into the curves of Mrs. Bushnell's lips, but her
husband did not notice it.

Mr. Bushnell moved uneasily in his chair, as he sat leaning forward,
both hands clasped about a hickory stick, and his chin resting on the
knob at its top. Presently he said:

"Anna, I fear David is getting into bad habits. He used to talk a good
deal. Now he sits with his eyes on the floor, and his forehead in
wrinkles, and I'm _sure_ I've heard him moving about more than one
night lately, after all honest folks were in bed."

"Father, you must remember that you've been very sick, and fever gives
one queer notions sometimes. I shouldn't wonder one bit if you dreamed
you heard something, when 'twas only the rats behind