bottomed chairs, the stockings drying on the pole, even the widow's cap and gown, and the old black snuffers on the table,―all, save poor, homely Tip, stole a ray of grace from the halo of her loveliness.

Nancy discouraged the proposition of roasting corn, and otherwise deeply grieved her visitor by intently working and thinking, instead of taking part in the conversation. At length a bright idea occurred to him.

"Got a slate and pencil ?"

The widow furnished the required articles. He then found a book, and, using the cover as a rule, marked out the plan of a game.

"Fox and geese, Nancy; ye play?" And, having pricked off a sufficient number of kernels from one of the ears of corn, and placed them upon the slate for geese, he selected the largest he could find for a fox, stuck it upon a pin, and proceeded to roast it in the candle.

"Which'll ye have, Nancy ?"-pushing the slate toward her: "take your choice, and give me the geese; then beat me if you can! Come, won't ye play?"

"Oh, dear, Tip, what a tease you are!" said Nancy. "I don't want to play. I must work. Get mother to play with you, Tip."

"She don't wanter!" exclaimed Tip. "Come, Nancy; then I'll tell ye suthin' I heard jest 'fore I come away,— suthin' 'bout you!"

And Tip, assuming a careless air, proceeded to pile up the ears of corn, log-house fashion, upon the table, while Nancy was finishing her seam.

"About me?" she echoed.

"You'd ha' thought so!" said Tip, slyly glancing over the corn as he spoke, to watch the effect on Nancy. Cephe and the old man had the all-firedest row, tell you!"

He hitched around in his chair, and, resting his elbows on his knees, looked up, shrewd and grinning, into her face.

"William Tansley, what do you mean?"

"As if you couldn't guess! Cephe was comin' to see you to-night; but he won't," chuckled Tip. "Say! ye ready for fox and geese?"

"How do you know that?" demanded Nancy.

"'Cause I heard! The old man stopped him, and Cephe was goin' to ride over him, but the old man was too much for him; he jerked him off the hoss, and there they had it, lickety-switch, rough-and-tumble, till Cephe give in, and told the old man, ruther'n have any words, he'd promise never to come and see you ag'in if he'd give him three thousand dollars; and the old man said 'twas a bargain!"

"Is that true, Tip?" cried the widow, dropping her work and raising her hands.

"True as I live and breathe, and draw the breath of life, and have a livin' bein'!" Tip solemnly affirmed.

"Just as I always told you, Nancy!" exclaimed the widow. "I knew how it would be. I felt sartin Cephas couldn't be depended upon. His father never'd hear a word to it, I always said. Now don't feel bad, Nancy; don't mind it. It'll be all for the best, I hope. Now, don't, Nancy; don't, I beg and beseech."

She saw plainly by the convulsive movement of the girl's bosom and the quivering of her lip that some passionate demonstration was threatened. Tip meanwhile had advanced his chair still nearer, contorting his neck and looking up with leering malice into her face until his nose almost touched her cheek.

"What do ye think now of Cephe Boxton?" he asked, tauntingly; "hey?"

A stinging blow upon the ear rewarded his impertinence,

and he recoiled so suddenly that his chair went over and threw him sprawling upon the floor.

"Gosh all hemlock!" he muttered, scrambling to his feet, rubbing first his elbow, then his ear. "What's that fur, I'd like to know,-knockin' a feller down?"

"What do I think of Cephas Boxton ?" cried Nancy. "I think the same I did before,-why shouldn't I? Your slander is no slander. Now sit down and behave yourself, and don't put your face too near mine, if you don't want your ears boxed!"

"Why, Nancy, how could you?" groaned the widow. Nancy made no reply, but resumed her work very much as if nothing had happened.

"Hurt you much, William ?"

"Not much; only it made my elbow sing like all Jerewsalem! Never mind; she'll find out! Where's my hat?"

"You ain't going, be ye?" said Mrs. Blynn, with an air of solicitude.

"I guess I ain't wanted here," mumbled Tıp, pulling his hat over his ears. He struck the slate, scattering the fox and geese, and demolished the house of green corn. "You can keep that; I don't want it. Good-night, Miss Blynn."

Tip placed peculiar emphasis upon the name, and fumbled a good while with the latch, expecting Nancy would say something; but she maintained a cool and dignified. silence, and, as nobody urged him to stay, he reluctantly departed, his heart full of injury, and his hopes collapsed like his pockets.

For some minutes Nancy continued to sew intently and fast, her flushed face bowed over the seam; then suddenly her eyes blurred, her fingers forgot their cunning, the needle shot blindly hither and thither, and the quicklydrawn thread snapped in twain.

"Nancy! Nancy! don't!" pleaded Mrs. Blynn; "I beg of ye, now don't!"

"Oh, mother," burst forth the young girl, with sobs, "I am so unhappy! What did I strike poor Tip for? He did not know any better. I am always doing something so wrong! He could not have made up the story. Cephas would have come here to-night,-I know he would."

"Poor child! poor child!" said Mrs. Blynn. "Why couldn't you hear to me? I always told you to be careful and not like Cephas too well. But maybe Tip didn't understand. Maybe Cephas will come to-morrow, and then all will be explained."

"Cephas is true, I know, I know!" wept Nancy, "but his father

One evening it was stormy, and Nancy and her mother were together in the plain, tidy kitchen, both sewing and both silent; gusts of rain lashing the windows, and the cat purring in a chair. Nancy's heart was more quiet than usual; for, although expectation was not quite extinct, no visitor surely could be looked for on such a night. Suddenly, however, amidst the sounds of the storm, she heard footsteps and a knock at the door. Yet she need not have started and changed color so tumultuously, for the visitor was only Tip.

"Good-evenin'," said young Master Tansley, stamping, pulling off his dripping hat, and shaking it. "I'd no idee it rained so! I was goin' by, and thought I'd stop in. Ye mad, Nancy ?" And he peered at the young girl from beneath his wet hair with a bashful grin.

Nancy's heart was too much softened to cherish any resentment, and with suffused eyes she begged Tip to forgive the blow.

"Wal, I do'no' what I'd done to be knocked down fur,"

s'pose I dew, tew.

began Tip, with a pouting and aggrieved air; "though I But I guess what I told ye turned out about so, after all; didn't it, hey?"

At Nancy's look of distress, Mrs. Blynn made signs for Tip to forbear. But he had come too far through the darkness and rain with an exciting piece of news to be thus easily silenced.

"I ha'n't brought ye no corn this time, for I didn't know as you'd roast it if I did. Say, Nancy! Cephe and the old man had it ag'in to-day; and the Judge forked over the three thousand dollars; I seen him! He was only waitin' to raise it. It's real mean in Cephe, I s'pose you think. Mebby 'tis; but, by gracious! three thousand dollars is a 'tarnal slue of money!"

Hugely satisfied with the effect this announcement produced, Tip sprawled upon a chair and chewed a stick, like one resolved to make himself comfortable for the evening.

"Saxafrax,-ye want some?" he said, breaking off with his teeth a liberal piece of the stick. "Say, Nancy! ye needn't look so mad. Cephe has sold out, I tell ye; and when I offer ye saxafrax ye may as well take some."

Not without effort Nancy held her peace; and Tip, extending the fragment of the sassafras-root which his teeth. had split off, was complacently urging her to accept it,"'Twas real good,”—when the sound of hoofs was heard; a halt at the gate; a horseman dismounting, leading his animal to the shed; a voice saying, "Be still, Pericles!" and footsteps approaching the door.

"Nancy! Nancy !" articulated Mrs. Blynn, scarcely less agitated than her daughter, "he has come!"

"It's Cephe!" whispered Tip, hoarsely. "If he should ketch me here! I-I guess I'll go! Confound that Cephe, anyhow !"