in this county."

When this uncomfortable Jeremiah had departed, leaving in his wake
a trailing of oaths and a bouquet of stable aroma, the trustees showed
relief, even if enthusiasm was notably absent.

"It's going to raise the tone of the fair, having him in the
stand--there ain't any getting round that," said the president. "The
notion seemed to strike him mighty favorable. 'It's an idea!' said
he to me. 'Yes, a real idea. I will have other prominent gentlemen
to serve with me, and we will be announced as paytrons of the races.
That will sound well, I think.' And he asked me what two men in town
was best fixed financially, and, of course, I told him Cap'n Aaron
Sproul, our first selectman, and Hiram Look. He said he hadn't been
in town long enough to get real well acquainted with either of them
yet, but hoped they were gentlemen. I told him they were. I reckon
that being skipper of a ship and ownin' a circus stands as high as
the gold-mine business."

"Well," said one of the trustees, with some venom, "Jabe Bickford
is doin' a good deal for this town, one way and another, but he wants
to remember that his gran'ther had to call on us for town aid, and
that there wa'n't nary ever another Bickford that lived in this town
or went out of it, except Jabe, that could get trusted for a barrel
of flour. Puttin' on his airs out West is all right, but puttin' 'em
on here to home, among us that knows him and all his breed, is makin'
some of the old residents kind of sick. Si Wallace hadn't ought to
call him by that name he did, but Si is talkin' the way a good many
feel."

"If an angel from heaven should descend on this town with the gift
of abidin' grace," said President Kitchen, sarcastically, "a lot of
folks here would get behind his back and make faces at him."

"Prob'ly would," returned the trustee, imperturbably, "if said angel
wore a plug hat and kid gloves from mornin' till night, said 'Me good
man' to old codgers who knowed him when he had stone-bruises on his
heels as big as pigeon's aigs, and otherwise acted as though he was
cream and every one else was buttermilk."

"Well, when some of the rest of you have done as much for this town
as Honer'ble Bickford," broke in the president, testily, "you can
have the right to criticise. As it is, I can't see anything but
jealousy in it. And I've heard enough of it. Now, to make this thing
all pleasant and agreeable to the Honer'ble Bickford, we've got to
have Cap'n Spro