f the power of
negative gravity depends entirely upon the disposition of my son
Herbert, when--after a good many years, I hope--he shall open the
packet my lawyers have in keeping.

* * * * *

[NOTE.--It would be quite useless for any one to interview my wife
on this subject, for she has entirely forgotten how my machine was
made. And as for Mr. Gilbert, he never knew.]

ASAPH

About a hundred feet back from the main street of a village in New
Jersey there stood a very good white house. Half-way between it and
the sidewalk was a large chestnut-tree, which had been the pride of
Mr. Himes, who built the house, and was now the pride of Mrs. Himes,
his widow, who lived there.

Under the tree was a bench, and on the bench were two elderly men,
both smoking pipes, and each one of them leaning forward with his
elbows on his knees. One of these, Thomas Rooper by name, was a
small man with gray side-whiskers, a rather thin face, and very good
clothes. His pipe was a meerschaum, handsomely colored, with a long
amber tip. He had bought that pipe while on a visit to Philadelphia
during the great Centennial Exposition; and if any one noticed it
and happened to remark what a fine pipe it was, that person would be
likely to receive a detailed account of the circumstances of its
purchase, with an appendix relating to the Main Building, the Art
Building, the Agricultural Building, and many other salient points
of the great Exposition which commemorated the centennial of our
national independence.

The other man, Asaph Scantle, was of a different type. He was a
little older than his companion, but if his hair were gray, it did
not show very much, as his rather long locks were of a sandy hue and
his full face was clean shaven, at least on Wednesdays and Sundays.
He was tall, round-shouldered, and his clothes were not good,
possessing very evident claims to a position on the retired list.
His pipe consisted of a common clay bowl with a long reed stem.

For some minutes the two men continued to puff together as if they
were playing a duet upon tobacco-pipes, and then Asaph, removing his
reed from his lips, remarked, "What you ought to do, Thomas, is to
marry money."

"There's sense in that," replied the other; "but you wasn't the
first to think of it."

Asaph, who knew very well that Mr. Rooper never allowed any one to
suppose that he received suggestions from without, took no notice of
t