in a real manly way for the manner in which he had
always treated him. Well Jacobs left, and mother says that father would
sit and speculate about him, as to whether he had fallen in love with
Eliza Jerrold, or whether he was determined to regain possession of the
box, and was going to do it honestly, or whether he was sorry for having
frightened the old man into a greater degree of imbecility, and was
marrying the girl so that he could take care of him, or whether it was
something else, and so on, and so on. He had a dozen theories, and
then mother says he would burst out laughing, and say it was one of the
cutest tricks that he had ever heard of.

"In the end, Jacobs got married, and father and mother went to the
wedding. Father gave the bridegroom a yoke of oxen, and mother gave the
bride a lot of household linen, and I believe they're as happy as the
day is long. Jacobs makes his wife comb her hair, and he waits on the
old man as if he was his son, and he is improving the farm that was
going to rack and ruin, and I hear he is going to build a new house."

"Harry," exclaimed Miss Laura, "can't you take me to see them?"

"Yes, indeed; mother often drives over to take them little things, and
we'll go, too, sometime. I'd like to see Jacobs myself, now that he is
a decent fellow. Strange to say, though he hadn't the best of character,
no one has ever suspected him of the robbery, and he's been cunning
enough never to say a word about it. Father says Jacobs is like all the
rest of us. There's mixture of good and evil in him, and sometimes one
predominates, and sometimes the other. But we must get on and not talk
here all day. Get up, Fleetfoot."

"Where did you say we were going?" asked Miss Laura, as we crossed the
bridge over the river.

"A little way back here in the woods," he replied. "There's an
Englishman on a small clearing that he calls Penhollow. Father loaned
him some money three years ago, and he won't pay either interest or
principal."

"I think I've heard of him," said Miss Laura "Isn't he the man whom the
boys call Lord Chesterfield?"

"The same one. He's a queer specimen of a man. Father has always stood
up for him. He has a great liking for the English. He says we ought to
be as ready to help an Englishman as an American, for we spring from
common stock."

"Oh, not Englishmen only," said Miss Laura, warmly; "Chinamen, and
Negroes, and everybody. There ought to be a brotherhood of nations,
Harry