she's got gumption fur
a dozen women."

He went on muttering, as he gathered up his pint-pot and bottle,--

"I'm goin' to send my Tim to college soon's the thing's in runnin'
order. Lord! what a lawyer that boy'll make!"

Mrs. Howth's brain was still muddled.

"You are better pleased than you were at Lincoln's election," she
observed, placidly.

"Lincoln be darned!" he broke out, forgetting the teachings of Mr.
Clinche. "Now, Mem, dun't ye muddle the mester's brain t'-night wi'
't, I say. I'm goin' t' 'xperiment myself a bit."

Which he did, accordingly,--shutting himself up in the smoke-house and
burning the compound in divers sconces and Wide-Awake torches, giving
up the entire night to his diabolical orgies.

Mrs. Howth did not tell the master; for one reason: it took a long time
for so stupendous an idea to penetrate the good lady's brain; and for
another: her motherly heart was touched by another story than this
Aladdin's lamp of Joel's wherein burned petroleum. She watched from
her window until she saw Holmes crossing the icy road: there was a
little bitterness, I confess, in the thought that he had taken her
child from her; but the prayer that rose for them both took her whole
woman's heart with it.

The road was rough over the hills; the wind that struck Holmes's face
bitingly keen: perhaps the life coming for him would be as cold a
struggle, having not only poverty to conquer, but himself. But he is a
strong man,--no stronger puts his foot down with cool, resolute tread;
and to-night there is a thrill on his lips that never rested there
before,--a kiss, dewy and warm. Something, some new belief, too, stirs
in his heart, like a subtile atom of pure fire, that he hugs
closely,--his for all time. No poverty or death shall ever drive it
away. Perhaps he entertains an angel unaware.

After that night Lois never left her little shanty. The days that
followed were like one long Christmas; for her poor neighbors, black
and white, had some plot among themselves, and worked zealously to make
them seem so to her. It was easy to make these last days happy for the
simple little soul who had always gathered up every fragment of
pleasure in her featureless life, and made much of it, and rejoiced
over it. She grew bewildered, sometimes, lying on her wooden settle by
the fire; people lead always been friendly, taken care of her, but now
they were eager in their kindness, as though the time were short. She