party.

"Unless," said he, brandishing the rattan, "somebody got into the house
that morning when the little scamp run off to ride with the minister!"

"Oh, don't lick me for that! I've been licked for that once; ha'n't I,
Ma Ducklow?" shrieked Taddy.

The house was searched in vain. No clew to the purloined securities
could be obtained,--the copies of the "Sunday Visitor," which had been
substituted for them, affording not the least; for that valuable little
paper was found in almost every household, except Ducklow's.

"I don't see any way left but to advertise, as Josiah said," remarked
the farmer, with a deep sigh of despondency.

"And that'll bring it all out!" exclaimed Mrs. Ducklow. "If you only
hadn't been so imprudent!"

"Wal, wal!" said Ducklow, cutting her short.

Before resorting to public measures for the recovery of the stolen
property, it was deemed expedient to acquaint their friends with their
loss in a private way. The next day, accordingly, they went to pay
Reuben a visit. It was a very different meeting from that which took
place a few mornings before. The returned soldier had gained in health,
but not in spirits. The rapture of reaching home once more, the flush of
hope and happiness, had passed away with the visitors who had flocked to
offer their congratulations. He had had time to reflect: he had reached
home, indeed; but now every moment reminded him how soon that home was
to be taken from him. He looked at his wife and children, and clenched
his teeth hard to stifle the emotions that arose at the thought of their
future. The sweet serenity, the faith and patience and cheerfulness,
which never ceased to illumine Sophronia's face as she moved about the
house, pursuing her daily tasks, and tenderly waiting upon him, deepened
at once his love and his solicitude. He was watching her thus when the
Ducklows entered with countenances mournful as the grave.

"How are you gittin' along, Reuben?" said Ducklow, while his wife
murmured a solemn "good morning" to Sophronia.

"I am doing well enough. Don't be at all concerned about me! It a'n't
pleasant to lie here, and feel it may be months, months, before I'm able
to be about my business; but I wouldn't mind it,--I could stand it
first-rate,--I could stand anything, anything, but to see her working
her life out for me and the children! To no purpose, either; that's the
worst of it. We shall have to lose this place, spite of fate!"

"Oh, Reuben!" s