infinity, and seemed more than the stars
of heaven. His childish brain, which had scarcely contemplated in
verity more than a shilling at a time of the coin of the realm,
reeled at a thousand dollars.

"Well?" observed Squire Merritt, kindly but perplexedly. He wondered
vaguely if the boy had come to ask him to pay the mortgage, and
reflected how little ready money he had in pocket, for Eben Merritt
was not thrifty with his income, which was indeed none too large, and
was always in debt himself, though always sure to pay in time.
Chances were, if Squire Merritt had had the thousand dollars to hand
that morning, he might have thrust it upon the boy, with no further
parley, taken his rod and line, and gone forth to his fishing. As it
was, he waited for Jerome to proceed, merely adding that he was sorry
that his mother did not own the place clear.

The plan that the boy unfolded, clumsily but sturdily to the end, he
had thought out for himself in the darkness of the night before. The
Squire listened. "Who planned this out?" he asked, when Jerome had
finished.

"I did."

"Who helped you?"

"Nobody did."

"Nobody?"

"No, sir."

Suddenly Squire Eben Merritt seated himself in the chair which Jerome
had vacated, seized the boy, and set him upon his knee. Jerome
struggled half in wrath, half in fear, but he could not free himself
from that strong grasp. "Sit still," ordered Squire Eben. "How old
are you, my boy?"

"Goin' on twelve, sir," gasped Jerome.

"Only four years older than Lucina. Good Lord!"

The Squire's grasp tightened tenderly. The boy did not struggle
longer, but looked up with a wonder of comprehensiveness in the
bearded face bent kindly over his. "He looks at me the way father use
to," thought Jerome.

"What made you come to me, my boy?" asked the Squire, presently. "Did
you think I could pay the mortgage for you?"

Then Jerome colored furiously and threw up his head. "No, _sir_,"
said he, proudly.

"Why, then?"

"I came because you are a justice of the peace, and know what law is,
and--"

"And what?"

"I've always heard you were pleasanter-spoken than he was."

The Squire laughed. "Pleasant words are cheap coin," said he. "I wish
I had something better for your sake, child. Now let me see what it
is you propose. That wood-lot of your father's, you say, Doctor
Prescott has offered three hundred dollars for."

"Yes, sir."

The Squire whistled. "Didn't your father think it was worth mo