e of the sea, Hiram Meeker was discovered.

He looked no larger than a man's thumb. He had fenced off a portion of
the sands, so that no one except himself (and many attempted) could have
access thereto. He was engaged transporting these sands in the most
careful manner, one by one, into a large warehouse, for better security,
as it would seem.

What is wonderful in all this is, that Hiram, the whole time, thought it
gold he was storing, whereas the _eye_ could perceive it to be sand
only--glittering sand.

At length the vision faded away. Hiram started up in a mortal agony. The
effort woke him, and he gazed wildly around. It was not yet light. Weary
and exhausted by what he had passed through, he soon fell asleep, and
this time slumbered peacefully.

When he opened his eyes, the sun was shining cheerfully into his room.
The whole aspect of things was changed. The old scenes were shifted into
place, the old machinery set in motion--Hiram was himself again!

CHAPTER VIII.

Burnsville!

I hope the reader is willing to revisit this charming spot. For I
confess that I myself feel impelled to do so. Indeed, I sometimes regret
following the fortunes of Hiram Meeker to New York. Far more agreeable
would it have been to have continued the story of Joel Burns, and showed
what a good man may achieve, notwithstanding the workings of the
'ancient leaven,' and the divers contests which spring up daily within
and around him.

But my task once undertaken, I did not feel at liberty to leave it.

I propose, therefore, only a brief visit to the place which the reader
may recollect was commenced by Joel Burns in his youth, when his love
for Ellen Bellows lent to his already energetic spirit a tenfold force
and vigor and perseverance.

The twenty-five years which have told with such effect on New York, have
also produced great changes and great improvements in Burnsville. It was
a thriving village when we last knew it. Now it is a large town. The
higher portion is covered with fine buildings. Churches, hotels,
academies, and various institutions for which New England is remarkable,
seem specially to flourish here.

There are some old landmarks which I am sure we shall recognize--Joel
Burns's house, for example, and the little brick 'office' from which
Hiram sallied one morning before daylight to take the stage for New
York, to attack Joslin the paper dealer.

The improvements have been astonishing. Beautiful trees skirt th