barn and shed
doors unfastened, and drew long breaths of gratitude to Providence.

Of most winning disposition and genial manners, Mr. Simpson had not
that instinctive comprehension of property rights which renders a man a
valuable citizen.

Abner was a most unusual thief, and conducted his operations with a
tact and neighborly consideration none too common in the profession. He
would never steal a man's scythe in haying-time, nor his fur lap-robe
in the coldest of the winter. The picking of a lock offered no
attractions to him; "he wa'n't no burglar," he would have scornfully
asserted. A strange horse and wagon hitched by the roadside was the
most flagrant of his thefts; but it was the small things--the hatchet
or axe on the chopping-block, the tin pans sunning at the side door, a
stray garment bleaching on the grass, a hoe, rake, shovel, or a bag of
early potatoes--that tempted him most sorely; and these appealed to him
not so much for their intrinsic value as because they were so
excellently adapted to "swapping." The swapping was really the
enjoyable part of the procedure, the theft was only a sad but necessary
preliminary; for if Abner himself had been a man of sufficient property
to carry on his business operations independently, it is doubtful if he
would have helped himself so freely to his neighbor's goods.

Riverboro regretted the loss of Mrs. Simpson, who was useful in
scrubbing, cleaning, and washing, and was thought to exercise some
influence over her predatory spouse. There was a story of their early
life together, when they had a farm; a story to the effect that Mrs.
Simpson always rode on every load of hay that her husband took to
Milltown, with the view of keeping him sober through the day. After he
turned out of the country road and approached the metropolis, it was
said that he used to bury the docile lady in the load. He would then
drive on to the scales, have the weight of hay entered in the buyer's
book, take his horses to the stable for feed and water, and when a
favorable opportunity offered he would assist the hot and panting Mrs.
Simpson out of the side or back of the rack, and gallantly brush the
straw from her person. For this reason it was always asserted that
Abner Simpson sold his wife every time he went to Milltown, but the
story was never fully substantiated, and at all events it was the only
suspected blot on meek Mrs. Simpson's personal reputation.

As for the Simpson children, th