14 and the conqueror of Mexico in 1846.

"He was a good man and a patriot as well as an able general," the Old
Squire remarked. "And, old as he had become in 1861, President Lincoln
would have done better to trust more than he did to General Scott's
judgment." At that time the Old Squire and nearly every one else in
Maine feared that President Johnson was a treacherous and exceedingly
dangerous man, whereas the verdict of history seems to be that he was
merely a very egotistical and headstrong one. There was already much
talk of impeaching him and removing him from office, although the Old
Squire had doubts as to the wisdom of so radical a course.

He and Addison were debating the matter quite earnestly, when there came
a knock at the door, which I answered, and saw standing there a strong,
sturdy, well-favored boy of about my own age, one I was to know
intimately all the rest of my life; for this, as I now learned, was
Thomas Edwards, from the farmhouse of our nearest neighbors across the
fields. He had come to fetch word to the Old Squire that another farmer,
named Gurney--a relative of the Edwards--who lived at a distance of
three or four miles, had concluded to sell us one of his _new_ Jersey
heifers.

That morning, too, I recollect that just as we were finishing breakfast,
grandmother looked around on our enlarged family circle, over her
spectacles, and said to the Old Squire, "Joseph, we really must have
their pictures taken,"--referring to us young folks.

"I want them all taken now, so that we may have them to keep, and know
how they looked when they first came home here," the old lady continued.
"I don't want it put off and not have any pictures of them, if anything
should happen, as we did poor Ansel's and Coville's. (Two of my uncles
who fell during the Civil War.)

"We must go down to the village some afternoon and have them taken,"
grandmother continued quite positively.

"Well, we will see about it," the Old Squire said over his paper.

"It must be done and done soon," Gram insisted.

"Yes, yes, Ruth, I suppose so," he assented.

"There must be no 'suppose so' about it," said Gram, very decidedly. "It
is one of the things that mustn't be put off and off like your trip to
Father Rasle's Monument."

We newcomers had yet to learn that for twenty years the Old Squire had
been talking, every season, of making two wagon excursions, of several
days' duration each, one to Lovewell's Pond, the scene of t