gh an inverted cone. As for carving, he had ornamented the walls of
the house with a profusion of brackets, wall-pockets, and the like,
taking his designs of birds or flowers from nature's own pattern. He
was, in fact, a veritable young Yankee with his jack-knife, and few were
the things he could not fashion with it, and few the principles of
physics studied at school which he did not seek to embody or illustrate;
and he had advanced beyond the range of studies in a country school when
he was withdrawn by his father to assist in "doing the chores." Then
having little society except his own thoughts he gradually became
discontented.

One day the mail-wagon stopped at his father's gate. "A letter for Mr.
French," said the carrier.

Even such a commonplace occurrence had an interest for the listless Jem
and he ran to pick it up. "It didn't come very far, I guess, for here is
the village postmark," said he to his mother who came to the door and
extended her hand for the epistle.

"It's from aunt Elizabeth," said she, looking at the superscription.

Jem puckered his lips to a whistle, for aunt Elizabeth was not on good
terms with her brother and had little intercourse with the family. What
news could his aunt have to impart, thus to break her usual silence? The
more he thought about it the stronger grew his curiosity. Nevertheless
it remained ungratified until his father made his appearance at the
supper-table and broke the seal.

If chirography gives any clew to the character of a writer, the person
who penned that letter was certainly plain, hard, and angular, while the
composition of the epistle indicated the author was in the habit of
bluntly freeing her mind. She began by telling her brother he was
shiftless, progressed by referring to the great number of mouths he had
to fill, and ended by offering to take the care of one of the children
off his hands, and requesting Jem should be sent to her house at the
Four Corners.

"O father, _do_ let me go," said Jem.

"Write to your aunt, and tell her to expect you next Thursday," said he,
at last.

The time that intervened seemed to drag slowly to Jem, but the supreme
moment finally came, and he stood at the gate with his best suit on.

"Be a good boy, and try to be useful to your aunt Elizabeth," were his
mother's parting words.

"Good-by, good-by," merrily shouted Jem, and waving a farewell salute
with his handkerchief he started away with a quick, elastic step th