ler it was, it would be sort o' cumbersome to tell her, an' I
sh'd have to lie my way out on't."

Mr. Benedict promised to attend to the matter before he slept, and then
Jim went back into the house.

Of the long conversation that took place that night between the woodsman
and the little tailoress we shall present no record. That he pleaded his
case well and earnestly, and without a great deal of bashfulness, will
be readily believed by those who have made his acquaintance. That the
woman, in her lonely circumstances, and with her hungry heart, could
lightly refuse the offer of his hand and life was an impossibility. From
the hour of his last previous visit she had unconsciously gone toward
him in her affections, and when she met him she learned, quite to her
own surprise, that her heart had found its home. He had no culture, but
his nature was manly. He had little education, but his heart was true,
and his arm was strong. Compared with Mr. Belcher, with all his wealth,
he was nobility personified. Compared with the sordid men around her,
with whom he would be an object of supercilious contempt, he seemed like
a demigod. His eccentricities, his generosities, his originalities of
thought and fancy, were a feast to her. There was more of him than she
could find in any of her acquaintances--more that was fresh, piquant,
stimulating, and vitally appetizing. Having once come into contact with
him, the influence of his presence had remained, and it was with a
genuine throb of pleasure that she found herself with him again.

When he left her that night, he left her in tears. Bending over her,
with his strong hands holding her cheeks tenderly, as she looked up into
his eyes, he kissed her forehead.

"Little woman," said he, "I love ye. I never knowed what love was afore,
an' if this is the kind o' thing they have in heaven, I want to go there
when you do. Speak a good word for me when ye git a chance."

Jim walked on air all the way back to his lodgings--walked by his
lodgings--stood still, and looked up at the stars--went out to the
waterfall, and watched the writhing, tumbling, roaring river--wrapped in
transcendent happiness. Transformed and transfused by love, the world
around him seemed quite divine. He had stumbled upon the secret of his
existence. He had found the supreme charm of life. He felt that a new
principle had sprung to action within him, which had in it the power to
work miracles of transformation. He could