untry. Josephs, partly from benevolence, and
partly from a vague fear that Smilash might at any moment take an action
against him for defamation of character, said he had no doubt that he
was a very cheap workman, and that it would be a charity to give him
some little job to encourage him. Miss Wilson confirmed Fairholme's
account; and the church organist, who had tuned all the pianofortes
in the neighborhood once a year for nearly a quarter of a century,
denounced the newcomer as Jack of all trades and master of none.
Hereupon the radicals of Lyvern, a small and disreputable party, began
to assert that there was no harm in the man, and that the parsons and
Miss Wilson, who lived in a fine house and did nothing but take in the
daughters of rich swells as boarders, might employ their leisure better
than in taking the bread out of a poor work man's mouth. But as none of
this faction needed the services of a domestic engineer, he was none
the richer for their support, and the only patron he obtained was
a housemaid who was leaving her situation at a country house in the
vicinity, and wanted her box repaired, the lid having fallen off.
Smilash demanded half-a-crown for the job, but on her demurring,
immediately apologized and came down to a shilling. For this sum he
repainted the box, traced her initials on it, and affixed new hinges,
a Bramah lock, and brass handles, at a cost to himself of ten shillings
and several hours' labor. The housemaid found fault with the color of
the paint, made him take off the handles, which, she said, reminded her
of a coffin, complained that a lock with such a small key couldn't be
strong enough for a large box, but admitted that it was all her own
fault for not employing a proper man. It got about that he had made
a poor job of the box; and as he, when taxed with this, emphatically
confirmed it, he got no other commission; and his signboard served
thenceforth only for the amusement of pedestrian tourists and of
shepherd boys with a taste for stone throwing.

One night a great storm blew over Lyvern, and those young ladies at
Alton College who were afraid of lightning, said their prayers with some
earnestness. At half-past twelve the rain, wind, and thunder made such
a din that Agatha and Gertrude wrapped themselves in shawls, stole
downstairs to the window on the landing outside Miss Wilson's study,
and stood watching the flashes give vivid glimpses of the landscape, and
discussing in whispe