so long. It's as dull as a
hoe."

However, time and patience work wonders, and at length the deacon,
after a careful inspection of the blade of the scythe, released Andy
from his toil of an hour and a half, with the remark:

"I reckon that'll do."

He put the scythe in its place and came out.

Andy lingered respectfully for the remuneration of his labor.

"He ought to give me a quarter," he thought. But the deacon showed no
disposition to pay him, and Andy became impatient.

"I guess I'll be goin'," he said.

"All right. I ain't got anything more for you to do," said the deacon.

"I'll take my pay now," said Andy, desperately.

"Pay? What for?" inquired the deacon, innocently.

"For turning the grindstone."

"You don't mean ter say you expect anything for that?" said the deacon
in a tone of surprise.

"Yes I do," said Andy. "I can't work an hour and a half for nothing."

"I didn't expect to pay for such a trifle," said the old man, fumbling
in his pocket.

Finally he brought out two cents, one of the kind popularly known as
bung-towns, which are not generally recognized as true currency.

"There," said he in an injured tone. "I'll pay you, though I didn't
think you'd charge anything for any little help like that."

Andy looked at the proffered compensation with mingled astonishment
and disgust.

"Never mind," he said. "You can keep it. You need it more'n I do, I'm
thinkin'!"

"Don't you want it?" asked the deacon, surprised.

"No, I don't. I'm a poor boy, but I don't work an hour and a half for
two cents, one of 'em bad. I'd rather take no pay at all."

"That's a cur'us boy," said the deacon, slowly sliding the pennies
back into his pocket. "I calc'late he expected more just for a little
job like that. Does he think I'm made of money?"

As Andy went out of the yard, the idea dawned upon the deacon that he
had saved two cents, and his face was luminous with satisfaction.

CHAPTER VI
THE TWO OLD MAIDS

"He's the meanest man I ever saw," thought Andy. "Does he think I work
on nothing a year, and find myself? Divil a bit of work will I do for
him agin, if I know it." But better luck was in store for Andy.
Quarter of a mile farther on, in a two-story house, old-fashioned but
neat, lived two maiden ladies of very uncertain age, Misses Priscilla
and Sophia Grant. I am not aware that any relationship existed between
them and our distinguished ex-President. Nevertheless, they were of
very r