old Sylvester inquired.

"I've tried it and I've spanned it. I can't span ours!"

On further questioning it appeared that Mopsey had been on a pilgrimage
to the next neighbor's, the Brundages, to inspect their thanksgiving
pumpkin, and institute a comparison with the Peabody growth of that
kind, with a highly satisfactory and complacent result as regarded the
home production. Nobody was otherwise than pleased at Mopsey's innocent
rejoicing, and when she had been duly complimented on her success, she
went away with a broad black guffaw to set a trap in the garden for the
brown mouse, the sole surviving enemy of the great Peabody thanksgiving
pumpkin which must be plucked next day for use.

With the dispatch of the evening meal, old Sylvester withdrew to the
other room, with a little hand lamp, to read a chapter by himself. The
others remaining seated about the apartment; the Captain and Oliver
presently fell into a violent discussion on the true sources of national
wealth, the Captain giving it as his opinion that it solely depended on
having a great number of ships at sea, as carriers between different
countries. Oliver was equally clear and resolute that the real wealth of
a nation lay in its wheat crops. When wheat was at ten shillings the
bushel, all went well; let it fall a quarter, and you had general
bankruptcy staring you in the face. Mr. William Peabody was'nt at the
pains to deliver his opinion, but he was satisfied, in his secret soul,
that it lay in the increase of new houses, or the proper supply of
calicoes--he had'nt made up his mind which. Presently Oliver was
troubled again in reference to the supply of gold in the world--whether
there was enough to do business with; he also had some things to say
(which he had out of a great speech in Congress) about bullion and rates
of exchange, but nobody understood him.

"By the way," he added, "Mrs. Carrack's son Tiffany is gone to the Gold
Region. From what he writes to me I think he'll cut a very great figure
in that country."

"An exceedingly fine, talented young man," said the merchant, who had,
then, sundry sums on loan from his mother.

"In any point of view, in which you regard it," continued Oliver, "the
gold country is an important acquisition."

"You hav'nt the letter Tiffany wrote, with you?" interrupted the
Captain.

"I think I have," was the answer. "I brought it, supposing you might
like to look at it. Shall I read it?"

There was no object