dry and hollow.

"How long has she had that?" I asked, gravely.

"Nigh on to a year. I knew it would come some day. She's slaved night
and day to keep us goin', since I could remember. It's time Abel an' me
was doin' somethin', beside diggin' an' cartin. We never could raise
enough to learn a trade."

He dropped his chin on his hand, and sat looking fixedly, but not
gloomily, into the fire. His mother could not overhear him, but I
thought Jane did,--she put so much vigor into her rubs on the washboard,
and spoke more tenderly to old Mrs. Steadman. Jane was a bustling,
pleasant, low-spoken girl: I think I mentioned her before.

"The truth is," said Matt, presently jerking out a nervous laugh, "we've
all our lives kept draggin' on, waitin' for a great stroke of luck. My
father did: he allays thought another year would bring it, and another.
He's dead now: he dug an' carted to the last; and here's his sons--men
without learnin', in the old rags they wore when they was boys--diggin'
an' cartin' just the same. See mother there? That old gown's her best.
Often think there's not a lady in the land would look like mother, if
she'd laces an' silks to wear; and she shall have them, by"----with a
tremendous oath. "There's Jane,"--after a long silence, the color fading
out of his face,----"Jane and I are like other people. We"----stopping
short.

"Yes," I nodded, gravely.

"Well, could I help it? I couldn't see her, and----But we never can
marry, this way of ongoin'. I mean to stand from under, and clear a way
for myself. I'm tryin' to be a carpenter, and have stuck to it pretty
steady these two years, gettin' a job now and then from the farmers.
They like to help a fellow through," with a smile. "I'll marry Jane yet,
and put mother where she ought to be."

"That's the true talk, anyhow, Matt."

He flushed again.

"Well," getting up and taking down the stable-lantern from the wall,
"it's been the curse of the Steadmans, waitin' for dead men's shoes.
That's so!"

An hour later Abel came in, and after lounging about awkwardly touched
me on the arm.

"I'd like you to come up 'loft, Mr. Humphreys."

I scrambled up the ladder into their garret, and sat down on an old hair
trunk, which he pulled up to a table. There was nothing in the room but
the bed and this table, which was strewed with papers, covered closely
with writing. Abel stood beside them, shuffling them with great
embarrassment.

"It's a good deal to ask of