red, and felt too indifferent to care about reading his nephew's.
What did these things matter to him? Yet, after a time, he thought
better of it, and took up the note again, saying to himself, "I'll
read it, if only because it's poor Noll's boy;" and opening the
missive, found therein the following frank boy's letter:--

"HASTINGS, Sept. 7th.

"DEAR UNCLE RICHARD,--I don't know what to say to you--it all seems so
strange and awkward. Mr. Gray said I was to write, however, and send
the note with his; so I am trying. It is such a long time since I saw
you that I've forgotten your face, and I think you must have forgotten
that there was such a person as myself in the world. Papa died almost
six months ago, and he said all the time, at the last, 'Go for Uncle
Richard!' but I didn't know where you were, and Mr. Gray could not
find out till a short time ago; so papa died without seeing you. I
don't know what he wanted to say, but he told me that I was to live
with you and be your boy; and Mr. Gray says the papers say the same
thing." Here the writer had evidently faltered, and been at a loss
how to proceed further with intelligence which it, apparently, was
very irksome for him to disclose; but he continued with, "There are
only you and me left, and I am sure I would like very much to be your
boy and live with you, as papa said; but--but I don't know--I
mean--Well, I can't say it, Uncle Richard, but I mean that I wish I
might know what you thought about it first. I wouldn't like to come,
you know, unless you liked,--unless you were _glad_ to have me. Mr.
Gray has all papa's business to settle, and I suspect he wants to get
me settled, too, somewhere, pretty quick; and so, if you please, I
hope you won't mind whatever he may say about me, and only do just as
you like about giving him permission to send me. I can find a home
somewhere, if you would rather.

"My name is Oliver,--Noll, everybody calls me; I'm almost fifteen, and
have always been at school in Hastings, and papa used to give me
lessons beside. Is there a school at Culm Rock? I do wish you could
have seen papa, dear Uncle Richard, he longed so for you when he died;
but there is a letter for you among his papers, which will be sent to
Culm Rock, if I do not come to bring it. Mr. Gray will tell you all
about me, I suppose, and the affairs besides; so I will stop.

"Your nephew,