the town, with Mr. Oldfield's permission, place an inscription on
the boulder in the Flat-Iron Lot, stating why it was to be held
historically sacred. The town roared and stamped, but meanwhile Nicholas
Oldfield was quietly rising.

"In that case, pa'son," said he, "I should like to state that it would
be my purpose to make over that lot to the town to be held as public
land forever."

Again the village folk outdid themselves in applause, while Young Nick
muttered, "Well, I vum!" beneath his breath, and Hattie replied,
antiphonally, "My soul!" These were not the notes of mere surprise. They
were prayers for guidance in this exigency of finding a despised
intelligence exalted.

The celebration went on to a victorious close. Who shall sing the
sweetness of Isabel North, as she sat by the log-cabin door, placidly
spinning flax, or the horror of the moment when, redskins swooping down
on her and settlers on them, the ghost swept in and put them all to
flight? Who will ever forget the exercises in the hall, when the
"Suwanee River" was sung by minstrels, to a set of tableaux representing
the "old folks" at their cabin door, "playin' wid my brudder" as a game
of stick-knife, and the "Swanny" River itself by a frieze of white
pasteboard swans in the background? There were patriotic songs,
accompanied by remarks laudatory of England; since it was justly felt
that our mother-land might be wounded if, on an occasion of this sort,
we fomented international differences by "America" or the reminiscent
triumph of "The Sword of Bunker Hill." A very noble sentiment pervaded
Tiverton when, at twilight, little groups of tired and very happy people
lingered here and there before "harnessing up" and betaking themselves
to their homes. The homes themselves meant more to them now, not as
shelters, but as sacred shrines; and many a glance sought out Nicholas
Oldfield standing quietly by--the reverential glance accorded those who
find out unsuspected wealth. Young Nick approached his father with an
awkwardness sitting more heavily upon him than usual.

"Well," said he, "I'm mighty glad you gi'n 'em that lot."

Old Nicholas nodded gravely, and at that moment Hattie came up, all in a
flutter.

"Father," said she quite appealingly, "I wisht you'd come over to
supper. Luella an' Freeman Henry'll be there. It's a great day, an'"--

"Yes, I know 't is," answered Nicholas kindly. "I'm much obleeged, but
Mary's goin' to eat with me. Mebbe we