Wood, "you are trying to insinuate that the
present generation is lazy, and I'm sure it isn't. Look at Harry. He
works as hard as you do."

"Isn't that like a woman?" said Mr. Wood, with a good-natured laugh.
"The present generation consists of her son, and the past of her
husband. I don't think all our young people are lazy, Hattie; but how in
creation, unless the Lord rains down a few farmers, are we going to
support all our young lawyers and doctors? They say the world is getting
healthier and better, but we've got to fight a little more, and raise
some more criminals, and we've got to take to eating pies and doughnuts
for breakfast again, or some of our young sprouts from the colleges will
go a begging."

"You don't mean to undervalue the advantages of a good education, do
you, Mr. Wood?" said Mr. Maxwell.

"No, no; look at Harry there. Isn't he pegging away at his studies with
my hearty approval? and he's going to be nothing but a plain, common
farmer. But he'll be a better one than I've been though, because he's
got a trained mind. I found that out when he was a lad going to the
village school. He'd lay out his little garden by geometry, and dig his
ditches by algebra. Education's a help to any man. What I am trying to
get at is this, that in some way or other we're running more to brains
and less to hard work than our forefathers did."

Mr. Wood was beating on the table with his forefinger while he talked,
and every one was laughing at him. "When you've quite finished
speechifying, John," said Mrs. Wood, "perhaps you'll serve the berries
and pass the cream and sugar. Do you get yellow cream like this in the
village, Mr. Maxwell?"

"No, Mrs. Wood," he said; "ours is a much paler yellow," and then there
was a great tinkling of china, and passing of dishes, and talking and
laughing, and no one noticed that I was not in my usual place in the
hall. I could not get over my dread of the green creature, and I had
crept under the table, so that if it came out and frightened Miss Laura,
I could jump up and catch it.

When tea was half over, she gave a little cry. I sprang up on her lap,
and there, gliding over the table toward her, was the wicked-looking
green thing. I stepped on the table, and had it by the middle before it
could get to her. My hind legs were in a dish of jelly, and my front
ones were in a plate of cake, and I was very uncomfortable. The tail of
the green thing hung in a milk pitcher, and its tong