his own mind, as he walked away
from Mr. Marble's door. "Strange enough! so kind-hearted and generous
as he always has been, when any body was in distress."

The next day, however, bright and early, Uncle Mike yoked up his oxen,
(some three pairs, I believe, including the _steers_, which needed
something more than _moral suasion_ to keep them straight,) fastened
them to the cart, and posted off, with two or three men, to the saw
mill. There he and his men loaded the cart with boards and planks.
Then he drove straight to the house of the unfortunate neighbor,
opened the great gate, without saying a word to any member of the
family, went into the door yard with his load, and threw it off within
a few yards of the spot where the old barn stood.

"What on earth does all that mean?" thought the female portion of the
family. The farmer and his boys were not at home at the time. Nothing
was said, however.

Again Uncle Mike drove over to the mill; again he put on a load of
timber; again he threw it off near the site of the old barn. Three
loads were discharged there, and then he directed his men to go home
with the team. He himself went to one of his neighbors, and asked him
if he had any timber of any kind already sawed at Squire Murdock's
mill.

"Yes," was the answer, "a little; why?"

"Well, I want some of it, if it's the right kind. What is it?"

"I don't recollect exactly--some white oak joists, I guess, and some
inch boards."

"Good. Just what I want."

Suffice it to say, that Mike Marble did not leave his neighbor before
he got a promise from him that he would contribute a load or two of
his timber to rebuild that barn. Then he went to another neighbor, and
another, and did something like the same errand, with very much the
same sort of success. He called on a _boss_ carpenter, too, and
secured his services in framing the barn; and, on his way home, he
stopped at Slocum's blacksmith's shop, and got the promise of some
nails.

Well, it was not long before the neighbors were all called together to
raise Deacon Metcalf's barn, and it was not long after that before
the building was ready for use. And how much do you think it cost him?
Not a cent--not a single cent, the neighbors managed the thing so
well. Even the good things on the supper table, when they had their
"raising bee," were sent in by the neighbors.

And the whole scheme, you see, came from the crotchety brain of our
friend, Mike Marble. That was hi