him as a sort of advisory
committee of three hundred and fifty: an expensive advisory committee to
the people, relic of an obsolete form of government. Many stories of the
now all-powerful Jethro William heard from the little coterie which made
their headquarters in his store--stories of how those methods of which
we have read were gradually spread over other towns and other counties.
Not that Jethro held mortgages in these towns and counties, but the
local lieutenants did, and bowed to him as an overlord. There were funny
stories, and grim stories of vengeance which William Wetherell heard and
trembled at. Might not Jethro wish to take vengeance upon him?

One story he did not hear, because no one in Coniston knew it. No one
knew that Cynthia Ware and Jethro Bass had ever loved each other.

At last, toward the end of June, it was noised about that the great
man was coming home for a few days. One beautiful afternoon William
Wetherell stood on the platform of the store, looking off at Coniston,
talking to Moses Hatch--young Moses, who is father of six children now
and has forgotten Cynthia Ware. Old Moses sleeps on the hillside, let
us hope in the peace of the orthodox and the righteous. A cloud of dust
arose above the road to the southward, and out of it came a country
wagon drawn by a fat horse, and in the wagon the strangest couple
Wetherell had ever seen. The little woman who sat retiringly at one end
of the seat was all in brilliant colors from bonnet to flounce, like
a paroquet, red and green predominating. The man, big in build,
large-headed, wore an old-fashioned blue swallow-tailed coat with
brass buttons, a stock, and coonskin hat, though it was summer, and
the thumping of William Wetherell's heart told him that this was Jethro
Bass. He nodded briefly at Moses Hatch, who greeted him with genial
obsequiousness.

"Legislatur' through?" shouted Moses.

The great man shook his head and drove on.

"Has Jethro Bass ever been a member of the Legislature?" asked the
storekeeper, for the sake of something to say.

"Never would take any office but Chairman of the Selectmen," answered
Moses, who apparently bore no ill will for his father's sake. "Jethro
kind of fathers the Legislatur', I guess, though I don't take much stock
in politics. Goes down sessions to see that they don't get too gumptious
and kick off the swaddlin' clothes."

"And--was that his wife?" Wetherell asked, hesitatingly.

"Aunt Listy, they cal