who have stood still to listen, are laughing too. And poor Lenny has
quite lost his head, and looks as if he would like to cry.

PARSON (patting the curly locks, encouragingly).--"Never mind; it is not
so badly answered, after all. And how old is Flop?"

LENNY.--"Why, he must be fifteen year and more.."

PARSON.--"How old, then, are you?"

LENNY (looking up, with a beam of intelligence).--"Fifteen year and
more."

Widow sighs and nods her head.

"That's what we call putting two and two together," said the parson.
"Or, in other words," and here he raised his eyes majestically towards
the haymakers--"in other words, thanks to his love for his book,
simple as he stands here, Lenny Fairfield has shown himself capable of
INDUCTIVE RATIOCINATION."

At those words, delivered ore rotundo, the haymakers ceased laughing;
for even in lay matters they held the parson to be an oracle, and words
so long must have a great deal in them. Lenny drew up his head proudly.

"You are very fond of Flop, I suppose?"

"'Deed he is," said the widow, "and of all poor dumb creatures."

"Very good. Suppose, my lad, that you had a fine apple, and that you met
a friend who wanted it more than you, what would you do with it?"

"Please you, sir, I would give him half of it."

The parson's face fell. "Not the whole, Lenny?"

Lenny considered. "If he was a friend, sir, he would not like me to give
him all."

"Upon my word, Master Leonard, you speak so well that I must e'en
tell the truth. I brought you an apple, as a prize for good conduct in
school. But I met by the way a poor donkey, and some one beat him for
eating a thistle, so I thought I would make it up by giving him the
apple. Ought I only to have given him the half?"

Lenny's innocent face became all smile; his interest was aroused. "And
did the donkey like the apple?"

"Very much," said the parson, fumbling in his pocket; but thinking of
Leonard Fairfield's years and understanding, and moreover observing, in
the pride of his heart, that there were many spectators to his deed,
he thought the meditated twopence not sufficient, and he generously
produced a silver sixpence.

"There, my man, that will pay for the half apple which you would have
kept for yourself." The parson again patted the curly locks, and after
a hearty word or two with the other haymakers, and a friendly "Good-day"
to Mrs. Fairfield, struck into a path that led towards his own glebe.

He had just crossed t