n twice as
active in mind and body. One morning after it had become noised abroad
that Fernando was going away to college, Mr. Winners rode up to the
house on his big sorrel mare, her colt following, and, dismounting, tied
the mare to the rail fence and entered the gate.

"Good mornin', cap'in, good mornin'," said the visitor.

"Come in, Mr. Winners. Glad to see you. Hope you are all well!"

"Oh, yes, middlin' like," answered the farmer entering the house without
the ceremony of removing his hat. A chair was offered, and he sat for a
moment with his hands spread out before the fireplace, his hat still on
his head. There was no fire in the fireplace, for it was late in May;
but Mr. Winners held his hands before it, from habit.

"Wall, cap'in, I do hear as how yer goin' ter send yer boy Fernando to
college."

"I am."

"Wall, that air a good notion. Now I ain't got no book larnin' myself;
but I don't object to nobody else gittin' none. I've made up my mind to
send one of my boys along with 'im, ef ye've no objection."

Of course Captain Stevens had no objection. Which of his boys was he
going to send?

"I kinder thought az how I'd send Sukey."

Sukey was a nickname given a tall, lazy youth named Richard Winners. Why
he had been nicknamed Sukey we have never been able to ascertain; but
the sobriquet, attached to him in childhood, clung to him all through
life. Sukey was like his father, brave, slow, careful, but a steadfast
friend and possessed of considerable dry humor. He took the world easy
and thought "one man as good as another so long as he behaved himself."

It was arranged that Sukey and Fernando should start in a week for New
York, from which point they might select any college or school they
chose. The mail stage passed the door of farmer Winners, crossed the big
bridge and then passed the home of Captain Stevens. Captain Stevens'
house was no longer a cabin in the wilderness. It was a large,
substantial two-story farm mansion, with chimneys of brick instead of
sticks and mud. The forests had shrunk back for miles, making place for
vast fields, and the place had the appearance of a thrifty farm.

Fernando's trunk was packed, and he sat on the door-step in his best
clothes awaiting the appearance of the stage. At last the rumbling
thunder of wheels rolling over the great bridge smote his ears, and a
few moments later the vehicle came up to the gate. The six prancing
horses were drawn up, and the vehicl