and her breath of aromatic moisture in his nostrils, and
sobbed and wept until he fell asleep.

He had slept an hour and a half, when he wakened suddenly, with a
clear "Hello!" in his ears. He opened his eyes and looked up, dazed,
into Squire Eben Merritt's great blond face.

"Hullo!" said Squire Eben again. "I thought it was a woodchuck, and
instead of that it's a boy. What are you doing here, sir?"

Jerome raised himself falteringly. He felt weak, and the confused
misery of readjusting the load of grief under which one has fallen
asleep was upon him. "Guess I fell asleep," he stammered.

"Guess you'd better not fall asleep in such a damp hole as this,"
said the Squire, "or the rheumatism will catch your young bones. Why
aren't you home planting, sir? I thought you were a smart boy."

"He'll get it all; there ain't any use!" said Jerome, with pitiful
doggedness, standing ankle-deep in brakes before the Squire. He
rubbed his eyes, heavy with sleep and tears, and raised them, dull
still, into the Squire's face.

"Who do you mean by he? Dr. Prescott?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then he didn't approve of your plan?"

"He's going to take our house, and let us live in it and pay rent,
and if we can't pay he's going to take our wood-lot here--" Suddenly
Jerome gave a great sob; he flung himself down wildly. "He sha'n't
have it; he sha'n't--he never shall!" he sobbed, and clutched at the
brakes and held them to his bosom, as if he were indeed holding some
dear thing against an enemy who would wrest it from him.

Squire Eben Merritt, towering over him, with a long string of trout
at his side, looked at him with a puzzled frown; then he reached down
and pulled him to his feet with a mighty and gentle jerk. "How old
are you, sir?" he demanded. "Thought you were a man; thought you were
going to learn to fire my gun. Guess you haven't been out of
petticoats long enough, after all!"

Jerome drew his sleeve fiercely across his eyes, and then looked up
at the Squire proudly. "Didn't cry before him," said he.

Squire Eben laughed, and gave his back a hard pat. "I guess you'll
do, after all," said he. "So you didn't have much luck with the
doctor?"

"No, sir."

"Well, don't you fret. I'll see what can be done. I'll see him
to-night myself."

Jerome looked up in his face, like one who scarcely dares to believe
in offered comfort.

The Squire nodded kindly at him. "You leave it all to me," said he;
"don't you worry."

Jerome