d freshness at every step,
and with kind Ann Pardon's commendation at the close, and the flattering
curiosity of the children,--the only ones who never made fun of
him,--all that was a delightful prospect. He could never, NEVER forget
himself, as he had seen other young fellows do; but to remember himself
agreeably was certainly the next best thing.

Jacob was already a well-grown man of twenty-three, and would have made
a good enough appearance but for the stoop in his shoulders, and the
drooping, uneasy way in which he carried his head. Many a time when he
was alone in the fields or woods he had straightened himself, and looked
courageously at the buts of the oak-trees or in the very eyes of the
indifferent oxen; but, when a human face drew near, some spring in his
neck seemed to snap, some buckle around his shoulders to be drawn three
holes tighter, and he found himself in the old posture. The ever-present
thought of this weakness was the only drop of bitterness in his cup, as
he followed the lonely path through the thickets.

Some spirit in the sweet, delicious freshness of the air, some voice in
the mellow babble of the stream, leaping in and out of sight between the
alders, some smile of light, lingering on the rising corn-fields beyond
the meadow and the melting purple of a distant hill, reached to the
seclusion of his heart. He was soothed and cheered; his head lifted
itself in the presentiment of a future less lonely than the past, and
the everlasting trouble vanished from his eyes.

Suddenly, at a turn of the path, two mowers from the meadow, with their
scythes upon their shoulders, came upon him. He had not heard their feet
on the deep turf. His chest relaxed, and his head began to sink; then,
with the most desperate effort in his life, he lifted it again, and,
darting a rapid side glance at the men, hastened by. They could not
understand the mixed defiance and supplication of his face; to them he
only looked "queer."

"Been committin' a murder, have you?" asked one of them, grinning.

"Startin' off on his journey, I guess," said the other.

The next instant they were gone, and Jacob, with set teeth and clinched
hands, smothered something that would have been a howl if he had given
it voice. Sharp lines of pain were marked on his face, and, for the
first time, the idea of resistance took fierce and bitter possession of
his heart. But the mood was too unusual to last; presently he shook his
head, and wal