with an enormous quid of tobacco, he commenced: "Better than
four years ago Linwood smashed up, smack and clean; lost everything he
had, and the rest had to be sold at vandue. But what was worse than
all, seein' he was a fine feller in the main, and I guess didn't mean
to fail, he took sick, and in about a month died."

"And what became of his widow and orphan?" asked St. Leon eagerly.

"Why, it wasn't nateral," said Uncle Israel, "that they should keep
the same company they did before, and they's too plaguy stuck up to
keep any other; so they moved out of town and supported themselves by
takin' in sewin' or ironin', I forgot which."

"But where are they now?" asked St. Leon.

Uncle Israel looked at him for a moment, and then replied, "The Lord
knows, I suppose, but Israel don't."

"Did they suffer at all?" asked St. Leon.

"Not as long as I stuck to them, but they sarved me real mean,"
answered Uncle Israel.

"In what way?"

"Why, you see," said Uncle Israel, "I don't know why, but somehow I
never thought of matrimony till I got a glimpse of Ada at her father's
vandue. To be sure, I'd seen her before, but then she was mighty big
feelin', and I couldn't ha' touched her with a hoe-handle, but now
'twas different. I bought their house. I was rich and they was poor."

Involuntarily St. Leon clinched his fist, as Uncle Israel continued:
"I seen to getting them a place in the country and then tended to 'em
generally for more than six months, when I one day hinted to Mrs.
Linwood that I would like to be her son-in-law. Christopher! how quick
her back was up, and she gave me to understand that I was lookin' too
high! 'Twas no go with Ada, and after awhile I proposed to the mother.
Then you ought to seen her! She didn't exactly turn me out o' door but
she coolly told me I wasn't wanted there. But I stuck to her and kept
kind o' offerin' myself, till at last they cut stick and cleared out,
and I couldn't find them, high nor low. I bunted for more than a year,
and at last found them in Hartford. Thinkin' maybe they had come to I
proposed again, and kept hangin' on till they gave me the slip again;
and now I don't know where they be, but I guess they've changed their
name."

At this point the cars stopped until the upward train should pass
them, and St. Leon, rising, bade his companion good evening, saying,
"he had changed his mind and should return to Hartford on the other
train."

CHAPTER VI.

EXPLANATION.