eeping the
whole neighborhood by the ears.

And as good Deacon Enos assumed the office of peace-maker for the
village, Uncle Jaw's efficiency rendered it no sinecure. The deacon
always followed the steps of Uncle Jaw, smoothing, hushing up, and
putting matters aright with an assiduity that was truly wonderful.

Uncle Jaw himself had a great respect for the good man, and, in common
with all the neighborhood, sought unto him for counsel, though, like
other seekers of advice, he appropriated only so much as seemed good in
his own eyes.

Still he took a kind of pleasure in dropping in of an evening to Deacon
Enos's fire, to recount the various matters which he had taken or was to
take in hand; at one time to narrate "how he had been over the milldam,
telling old Granny Clark that she could get the law of Seth Scran about
that pasture lot," or else "how he had told Ziah Bacon's widow that she
had a right to shut up Bill Scranton's pig every time she caught him in
front of her house."

But the grand "matter of matters," and the one that took up the most of
Uncle Jaw's spare time, lay in a dispute between him and 'Squire Jones,
the father of Susan and Silence; for it so happened that his lands and
those of Uncle Jaw were contiguous. Now, the matter of dispute was on
this wise: On 'Squire Jones's land there was a mill, which mill Uncle
Jaw averred was "always a-flooding his medder land." As Uncle Jaw's
"medder land" was by nature half bog and bulrushes, and therefore liable
to be found in a wet condition, there was always a happy obscurity as to
where the water came from, and whether there was at any time more there
than belonged to his share. So, when all other subject matters of
dispute failed, Uncle Jaw recreated himself with getting up a lawsuit
about his "medder land;" and one of these cases was in pendency when, by
the death of the squire, the estate was left to Susan and Silence, his
daughters. When, therefore, the report reached him that Deacon Enos had
been cheated out of his dues, Uncle Jaw prepared forthwith to go and
compare notes. Therefore, one evening, as Deacon Enos was sitting
quietly by the fire, musing and reading with his big Bible open before
him, he heard the premonitory symptoms of a visitation from Uncle Jaw on
his door scraper; and soon the man made his appearance. After seating
himself directly in front of the fire, with his elbows on his knees, and
his hands spread out over the coals, he looked up