r rose vigorously to his feet in order properly to emphasize
his offer. Colonel Butler did not respond. This sudden turn of affairs
had almost taken away his breath. Then a grim smile stole slowly into
his face. The humor of the situation began to appeal to him.

"Permit me to commend you," he said, "for your liberality and
patriotism."

"I didn't fight in no Civil War," added the old man, emphatically;
"but I ain't goin' to hev it said by nobody that Enos Walker ever
profited a penny on a pole fer his country's flag."

The old soldier's smile broadened.

"Good!" he exclaimed. "That's very good. We'll stand together as joint
donors of the emblem of freedom."

"And I ain't ashamed of it nuther," cried the new partner, "an' here's
my hand on it."

The two men shook hands, and this time Colonel Richard Butler laughed
outright.

"This is fine," he said. "I'll send men to-morrow to cut the tree
down, trim it, and haul it to town. There's no time to lose. The roads
are getting soft. Why, half of Baldwin's Hill is already bare."

He started toward the door, but his host called him back.

"Don't be in a hurry," said Grandpa Walker. "Set down a while, can't
ye? Have a piece o' pie or suthin. Or a glass o' cider."

"Thank you! Nothing at all. I'm in some haste. It's getting late.
And--I desire to make a brief call on Henry Cobb before returning
home."

The old man made no further effort to detain his visitor; but he gave
him a cordial invitation to come again, shook hands with him at the
door, and watched him half way down to the gate. When he turned and
re-entered his house he found his two daughters already in the
sitting-room.

"Did he come for Pen?" asked Sarah Butler, breathlessly.

"Ef he did," replied her father, "he didn't say so. He wanted my
spruce tree, and I give it to him. And I want to tell ye one thing
fu'ther. I've got a sort o' sneakin' notion that Colonel Richard
Butler of Chestnut Hill ain't more'n about one-quarter's bad as he's
be'n painted."

Henry Cobb's residence was scarcely a half mile beyond the home of
Enos Walker. It was the most imposing farm-house in that
neighborhood, splendidly situated on high ground, with a rare outlook
to the south and east. Mr. Cobb himself was just emerging from the
open door of a great barn that fronted the road as Colonel Butler
drove up. He came out to the sleigh and greeted the occupant of it
cordially. The two men were old friends.

"It's a magnifice