o me, unless,
indeed, the feelings that dictated them should have changed."

"O, no--no, indeed," said Susan, earnestly; "you know it is not that;
but if your father objects to me----"

"If my father objects to you, he is welcome not to marry you," said
Joseph.

"Now, Joseph, do be serious," said Susan.

"Well, then, seriously, Susan, I know my obligations to my father, and
in all that relates to his comfort I will ever be dutiful and
submissive, for I have no college boy pride on the subject of
submission; but in a matter so individually my own as the choice of a
wife, in a matter that will most likely affect my happiness years and
years after he has ceased to be, I hold that I have a right to consult
my own inclinations, and, by your leave, my dear little lady, I shall
take that liberty."

"But, then, if your father is made angry, you know what sort of a man he
is; and how could I stand in the way of all your prospects?"

"Why, my dear Susan, do you think I count myself dependent upon my
father, like the heir of an English estate, who has nothing to do but
sit still and wait for money to come to him? No! I have energy and
education to start with, and if I cannot take care of myself, and you
too, then cast me off and welcome;" and, as Joseph spoke, his fine face
glowed with a conscious power, which unfettered youth never feels so
fully as in America. He paused a moment, and resumed: "Nevertheless,
Susan, I respect my father; whatever others may say of him, I shall
never forget that I owe to his hard earnings the education that enables
me to do or be any thing, and I shall not wantonly or rudely cross him.
I do not despair of gaining his consent; my father has a great
partiality for pretty girls, and if his love of contradiction is not
kept awake by open argument, I will trust to time and you to bring him
round; but, whatever comes, rest assured, my dearest one, I have chosen
for life, and cannot change."

The conversation, after this, took a turn which may readily be imagined
by all who have been in the same situation, and will, therefore, need no
further illustration.

* * * * *

"Well, deacon, railly I don't know what to think now: there's my Joe,
he's took and been a courting that 'ere Susan," said Uncle Jaw.

This was the introduction to one of Uncle Jaw's periodical visits to
Deacon Enos, who was sitting with his usual air of mild abstraction,
looking into the coals of a