delightful remembrance.

First came the Goodins, and their hands yielded to us thoroughly
appreciated gifts: one dozen linen towels spun, woven and bleached by
the hands of Mrs. Goodwin; her husband adding for Louis the solid silver
knee and shoe buckles his grandfather wore when a revolutionary officer,
the trusty sword that hung by his side, and his uniform coat with its
huge brass buttons, with the trunk of red cedar where for years they
have been kept.

"Thank you," we both said simultaneously, and they passed along for
others to come near. Not one of all that country town forbore to come
and bring also tokens of their kindly feeling. Among the early arrivals
was Jane North. I heard Matthias say:

"Be ye goin' to tote it in there?" and, as Jane answered resolutely, "I
certainly am," I looked toward the door to see what it was that was
approaching. At my feet Matthias dropped his burden, and the donor said:

"There is a goose-feather bed and a pair of pillows, and I picked every
feather of 'em off my geese; them two linen sheets and two pair of
piller-cases done up with 'em I made myself. I want you to use that bed
in your own room, Mis' _De_-Mond (I started to hear that name applied to
myself), and for the sake of the good Lord who sent salvation to me
through your blessed mother-in-law, in prayer for yourself don't never
forget me. I've said all the hateful things I ever mean to."

She held her hands out to us both, and we mingled our tears of gratitude
with those that filled her eyes.

"Thank you," I said.

"God bless your true heart," said Louis, "and may your last days be your
happiest."

"Amen," said Jane, and she passed into the next room, Matthias putting
the present in a corner where it would take less space. Mr. Davis
followed her, and beside him stood a clock which father had helped him
to bring in.

"This clock, my young friends, is the one which has stood in the corner
of my study for years. I have taken an especial pride in its unvarying
correctness, and the man in the moon is unfailing in his calculation,
showing his face at the appropriate season. The clock's tick is strong
and well becomes the old veteran, and the coat of mahogany he wears is
one that can never need a stitch. To you, above all others, I would
yield this treasure; it is worth far more to me than any gift I might
purchase, and I know that you," turning to Louis, "rejoice in keeping
bright the old-time landmarks linking for