d famous people had occupied it."

"How did he find it out?" asked Charley; "for I suppose the chair could
not tell its own history."

"There used to be a vast collection of ancient letters and other
documents in the tower of the Old South Church," answered Grandfather.
"Perhaps the history of our chair was contained among these. At all
events, Samuel Adams appears to have been well acquainted with it. When
he became governor, he felt that he could have no more honorable seat
than that which had been the ancient chair of state. He therefore
purchased it for a trifle, and filled it worthily for three years as
governor of Massachusetts." "And what next?" asked Charley.

"That is all," said Grandfather, heaving a sigh; for he could not help
being a little sad at the thought that his stories must close here.
"Samuel Adams died in 1803, at the age of above threescore and ten.
He was a great patriot, but a poor man. At his death he left scarcely
property enough to pay the expenses of his funeral. This precious chair,
among his other effects, was sold at auction; and your Grandfather, who
was then in the strength of his years, became the purchaser."

Laurence, with a mind full of thoughts that struggled for expression,
but could find none, looked steadfastly at the chair.

He had now learned all its history, yet was not satisfied.

"Oh, how I wish that the chair could speak!" cried he. "After its long
intercourse with mankind,--after looking upon the world for ages,--what
lessons of golden wisdom it might utter! It might teach a private
person how to lead a good and happy life, or a statesman how to make his
country prosperous."

CHAPTER XI. GRANDFATHER'S DREAM.

GRANDFATHER was struck by Laurence's idea that the historic chair
should utter a voice, and thus pour forth the collected wisdom of two
centuries. The old gentleman had once possessed no inconsiderable share
of fancy; and even now its fading sunshine occasionally glimmered among
his more sombre reflections.

As the history of his chair had exhausted all his facts, Grandfather
determined to have recourse to fable. So, after warning the children
that they must not mistake this story for a true one, he related what we
shall call Grandfather's Dream.

Laurence and Clara, where were you last night? Where were you,
Charley, and dear little Alice? You had all gone to rest, and left old
Grandfather to meditate alone in his great chair. The lamp had grown so
di