iercely: "You careless, wicked, ungrateful boy, that I've been
wearin' myself out knittin' for. I'm almost sure you did it a purpose.
You won't be satisfied till you've got me out of the world, and
then--then, perhaps"--here Rachel began to whimper--"perhaps you'll get
Tom Piper's aunt to knit your stockings."

"I didn't mean to, Aunt Rachel," said Jack, penitently, eying his aunt,
who was rocking to and fro in her chair. "You know I didn't. Besides, I
hurt myself like thunder," rubbing himself vigorously.

"Served you right," said his aunt, still clasping her foot.

"Shan't I get something for you to put on it, Rachel?" asked Mrs.
Harding.

But this Rachel steadily refused, and, after a few more postures
indicating a great amount of anguish, limped out of the room, and
ascended the stairs to her own apartment.

CHAPTER III

JACK'S NEW PLAN

Aunt Rachel was right in one thing, as Jack realized. He could not find
horses to hold every day, and even if he had succeeded in that, few
would have paid him so munificently as the stranger of the day before.
In fact, matters came to a crisis, and something must be sold to raise
funds for immediate necessities. Now, the only article of luxury--if it
could be called so--in the possession of the family was a sofa, in very
good preservation, indeed nearly new, for it had been bought only two
years before when business was good. A neighbor was willing to pay
fifteen dollars for this, and Mrs. Harding, with her husband's consent,
agreed to part with it.

"If ever we are able we will buy another," said Timothy.

"And, at any rate, we can do without it," said his wife.

"Rachel will miss it."

"She said the other day that it was not comfortable, and ought never to
have been bought; that it was a shameful waste of money."

"In that case she won't be disturbed by our selling it."

"No, I should think not; but it's hard to tell how Rachel will take
anything."

This remark was amply verified.

The sofa was removed while the spinster was out, and without any hint to
her of what was going to happen. When she returned, she looked around
for it with surprise.

"Where's the sofy?" she asked.

"We've sold it to Mrs. Stoddard," said Mrs. Harding, cheerfully.

"Sold it!" echoed Rachel, dolefully.

"Yes; we felt that we didn't need it, and we did need money. She offered
me fifteen dollars for it, and I accepted."

Rachel sat down in a rocking-chair, and began straigh