er,) I stepped up to hash over the matter with old
Silence; for as to Sukey, she ha'n't no more to do with such things than
our white kitten. Now, you see, 'Squire Jones, just afore he died, he
took away an old rail fence of his'n that lay between his land and mine,
and began to build a new stone wall; and when I come to measure, I found
he had took and put a'most the whole width of the stone wall on to my
land, when there ought not to have been more than half of it come there.
Now, you see, I could not say a word to 'Squire Jones, because, jest
before I found it out, he took and died; and so I thought I'd speak to
old Silence, and see if she meant to do any thing about it, 'cause I
knew pretty well she wouldn't; and I tell you, if she didn't put it on
to me! We had a regular pitched battle--the old gal, I thought she would
'a screamed herself to death! I don't know but she would, but just then
poor Sukey came in, and looked so frightened and scarey--Sukey is a
pretty gal, and looks so trembling and delicate, that it's kinder a
shame to plague her, and so I took and come away for that time."

Here Uncle Jaw perceived a brightening in the face of the good deacon,
and felt exceedingly comforted that at last he was about to interest him
in his story.

But all this while the deacon had been in a profound meditation
concerning the ways and means of putting a stop to a quarrel that had
been his torment from time immemorial, and just at this moment a plan
had struck his mind which our story will proceed to unfold.

The mode of settling differences which had occurred to the good man was
one which has been considered a specific in reconciling contending
sovereigns and states from early antiquity, and the deacon hoped it
might have a pacifying influence even in so unpromising a case as that
of Miss Silence and Uncle Jaw.

In former days, Deacon Enos had kept the district school for several
successive winters, and among his scholars was the gentle Susan Jones,
then a plump, rosy little girl, with blue eyes, curly hair, and the
sweetest disposition in the world. There was also little Joseph Adams,
the only son of Uncle Jaw, a fine, healthy, robust boy, who used to
spell the longest words, make the best snowballs and poplar whistles,
and read the loudest and fastest in the Columbian Orator of any boy at
school.

Little Joe inherited all his father's sharpness, with a double share of
good humor; so that, though he was forever ef