rents. We see
only the straws on the surface.

I was up at daylight and Mr. Hacket came to my door while I was
dressing.

"A merry day to you!" he exclaimed. "I'll await you below and introduce
you to the humble herds and flocks of a schoolmaster."

I went with him while he fed his chickens and two small shoats. I milked
the cow for him, and together we drove her back to the pasture. Then we
split some wood and filled the boxes by the fireplace and the kitchen
stove and raked up the leaves in the dooryard and wheeled them away.

"Now you know the duties o' your office," said the schoolmaster as we
went in to breakfast.

We sat down at the table with the family and I drew out my letter from
the Senator and gave it to Mr. Hacket to read.

"The Senator! God prosper him! I hear that he came on the Plattsburg
stage last night," he said as he began the reading--an announcement
which caused me and the children to clap our hands with joy.

Mr. Hacket thoughtfully repeated the words from Job with a most
impressive intonation.

He passed the letter back to me and said:

"All true! I have seen it sinking into the bones o' the young and I have
seen it lying down with the aged in the dust o' their graves. It is a
big book--the one we are now opening. God help us! It has more pages
than all the days o' your life. Just think o' your body, O brave and
tender youth! It is like a sponge. How it takes things in an' holds 'em
an' feeds upon 'em! A part o' every apple ye eat sinks down into yer
blood an' bones. Ye can't get it out. It's the same way with the books
ye read an' the thoughts ye enjoy. They go down into yer bones an' ye
can't get 'em out. That's why I like to think o' Michael Henry. His food
is good thoughts and his wine is laughter. I had a long visit with M.H.
last night when ye were all abed. His face was a chunk o' laughter. Oh,
what a limb he is! I wish I could tell ye all the good things he said."

"There comes Colonel Hand," said Mrs. Hacket as she looked out of the
window. "The poor lonely Whig! He has nothing to do these days but sit
around the tavern."

"Ye might as well pity a goose for going bare-footed," the schoolmaster
remarked.

In the midst of our laughter Colonel Hand rapped at the door and Mr.
Hacket admitted him.

"I tell you the country is going to the dogs," I heard the Colonel
saying as he came into the house.

"You inhuman Hand!" said the schoolmaster. "I should think you would be
tire