ing, while the children slept, with no one to notice his
absent-minded labor but his ever-wakeful mother.

"I will not endure it," he mentally exclaimed; and, by way of
emphasis, he drew the ear of corn he held against the edge of the
scythe with unusual force, at the same instant springing to his feet
with a cry of pain, and a finger in his mouth, upsetting his seat, and
sending the contents of the box rolling across the floor, and into the
gaping cracks.

"O, I've scraped my finger awfully!" he said, with grimaces that added
nothing to his personal attractions.

"Why, how did you do it, my son?" asked the mother, although she knew
very well.

"Why, you see, I was thinking about something, and pulled my finger,
instead of the cob, against the edge."

Mrs. Jones laid back the strip of bleeding flesh into the place from
which it had thus unceremoniously been torn, and from which it hung by
a bit of skin, and carefully bound up the wound.

Then, sweeping the scattered kernels into a heap, and restoring them
to the box, she seated herself in a little dislocated chair, and
said,--

"There, don't shell any more now, Tom; I have something to say to you.
You asked why we came west. The time has come when you had better know
something of our history; it may help you decide your course of
action.

"Your father and I were born in Connecticut, in the same town. We
attended school together in our early childhood, and often played
together. Both of our families were respectable--your father's quite
so, although not so well off as to property as mine. He was a bright,
promising boy, quick to learn, warm-hearted, and conscientious. I
never knew him guilty of any of the petty meannesses too common among
school children. He was sensitive to a fault, but had high notions of
honor, and despised falsehood and deception in any form. When I was
seventeen I became secretly engaged to him. My parents did not suspect
this, nor did any of the household, except a younger sister, to whom I
confided my secret. I now think it would have been better for all
concerned had I from the first been open in the matter, and frankly
stated to my mother what my preference was. But I knew that he was not
their choice for me. They were ambitious to have me marry brilliantly,
as the phrase went,--that is, wealthily and in style,--and he was
young, and had his fortune to carve out pretty much for himself. He
knew what their hopes were concerning me, mat