n' it's
quarter arter twelve, or the like o' that. They say it's O minutes past
I."

He glared at her. Young Nick's Hattie thought she had never heard father
speak with such bitterness; and indeed it was true. Never before had he
been assailed on his own ground; it seemed as if the whole township now
conspired to bait him.

"Well" she remarked weakly, "I dunno's it does any hurt, so long as they
can tell what they mean by it."

Nicholas threw her a pitying glance. He scorned to waste eternal truth
on one so dull.

"Well," she went on, in desperation, "that ain't all, neither. I might
as well say the whole, an' done with it. He wants 'em to set up the
clock on the meetin'-house; an' seeing the tower mightn't be firm
enough, he'll build it up higher, an' give 'em a new bell."

Now, indeed, Nicholas Oldfield was in the case of Shylock, when he
learned his daughter's limit of larceny. "The curse never fell upon our
nation till now," so he might have quoted. "I never felt it till now."

He rose from his chair.

"In the name of God Almighty," he asked solemnly, "what do they want of
a new bell?"

Young Nick's Hattie gave an involuntary cry.

"O father!" she entreated, "don't say such words. I never see you take
on so. What under the sun has got into you?"

Nicholas made no reply. Slowly and methodically he was putting the
dishes into the wooden sink. When he touched Mary's pink mug, his
fingers trembled a little; but he did not look at her. He knew she
understood. Young Nick's Hattie rolled her hands nervously in her apron,
and then unrolled them, and smoothed the apron down. She gathered
herself desperately.

"Well, father," she said, "I've got another arrant. I said I'd do it,
an' I will; but I dunno how you'll take it."

"O mother!" cried Mary, "don't!"

"What is it?" asked Nicholas, folding the tablecloth in careful creases.
"Say your say an' git it over."

Hattie rocked faster and faster. Even in the stress of the moment
Nicholas remembered that the old chair was well made, and true to its
equilibrium.

"Well," said she, "Luella an' Freeman Henry come over here this very
day, an' Freeman Henry's possessed you should sell him the Flat-Iron
Lot."

"Wants the Flat-Iron Lot, does he?" inquired Nicholas grimly. "What's he
made up his mind to do with it?"

"He wants to build," answered Hattie, momentarily encouraged. "He says
he'll be glad to ride over to work, every mornin' of his life, if he can
only