think we had
children enough of our own, to make us trouble!"

"He's old enough to know better. Come and finish your dinner."

"I don't want no dinner!" muttered Sam.

But he did not require much urging. Half ashamed, and grinning from ear
to ear, he took his place again at the table, Hepsy having brought a
fresh plate. Meanwhile Sarah had pacified Willie, and recovered the
fragments of potato that had wandered down into his trousers.

Peace being restored, the subject of the clergyman's visit was resumed
by Mr. Royden.

"I don't know how we can refuse him; it will be disagreeable, on all
sides, for him to be here."

"He will not suit us; and I am sure we shall not suit him," replied Mrs.
Royden. "He will want to study and be quiet; and, unless he stays in his
room all the time, and shuts out the children, I don't know what he will
do. More than all that, I couldn't think of having him around the house,
any way in the world."

"I wish I knew what to do about it," muttered Mr. Royden, scowling.

"I want you to do just as you think best, now that you have my opinion
on the subject."

This was a way Mrs. Royden had of shirking responsibilities. Her husband
smiled bitterly.

"If I decide for him to come," said he, "and his visit proves
disagreeable, I shall be the only one to blame. But I suppose there is
but one course to pursue. We cannot refuse the hospitality of our house;
but I sincerely wish he had chosen any other place to spend his
vacation."

"It is so strange he should think of coming among plain farmers, in the
country!" observed Mrs. Royden.

"O, don't have him here!" cried the younger children, in chorus.

Although there was a large majority of voices against him, Mr. Royden
concluded that Sarah might reply to the clergyman's letter, after
dinner, telling him pretty plainly how he would be situated if he came;
and say that, notwithstanding their circumstances, they would be glad to
see him.

"After this," said he, "I should hardly think he would come. But, if he
does, we must try and make the best of it."

II.

CHESTER.

It was on a warm and beautiful afternoon, several days subsequent to the
scenes just described, when little Willie, who was catching flies on the
sitting-room window, suddenly cried out, at the top of his voice,

"There comes Ches', full garlick! I guess the witches are after him!"

There was a general rush to the window. Willie had spoken truly. There,
indeed,