d the farmer, beginning on his
part to finger the broken harness. "How _you_ come to be here passes
all my imagery. That'll do smartly. Where did you learn all trades? I
don't see, Squire Deacon, but he's as good at mendin' as you be at
marrin'. What do _you_ think?"

"I don't see as one man has much to do with another," said Mr. Deacon
lucidly.

"Yes, that will do," said Mr. Linden. "Now Miss Faith--give me that
cord if you please, and you shall go after the lynch-pin."

"No," she said pleasantly,--"it'll be done in a minute--I want to
finish it."

"When did you get back from York, Squire?" said Mr. Simlins--"and what
took you away? I haint heerd yet. I never believed you were gone _for
good_--though folks said it."

"'Taint generally worth while to believe what folks says," replied the
Squire. "I've been back three weeks, I guess. Shouldn't wonder if I
went again though."

"Shouldn't wonder if you did," said Mr. Simlins. "I would if I was
you--if I wanted to. Mr. Linden, it was a providential thing, that you
should come along at this idiomatical moment. There aint another man in
Pattaquasset would ha' done this so good as you."

"There is another line of business open to me then," said Mr. Linden,
who had begun upon the other end of the piece of cord with opposition
fingers.

"What _aint_ open to you?" said Mr. Simlins. "Do you know of anything?
Give us that cord--will you?"

"Yes, you may have it now--the knots are all out," said Mr. Linden, as
he put the disentangled cord in the hands of Mr. Simlins and himself in
the saddle. "Now Miss Faith, you shall have a lesson in
lynch-pins--s'il vous plait."

"You do beat all!" said Squire Deacon looking up from under his hat,
and with a voice that kept his eyes company.

Faith looked very pretty as she turned her horse in obedience to the
intimation given her, with a somewhat demure smile and blush upon her
face. Mr. Simlins looked, as well as the Squire, with a different
expression.

"Well, I guess you're about right!" was his answering remark. "I do
believe he can get the whip hand of most things. He's a Say and Seal
man, he says." To which, however, the Squire deigned no response.
Stooping over his harness, fingering and fitting, he was silent a
little; then spoke in a careless, half inquiring half assenting sort of
way.

"What wonders me is, why he don't marry that girl out of hand. I reckon
she'd follow him down that road as easy as she does down othe