not strong in
texts, the Deacon knew what his strong points were; so, before leaving,
he invites a little offhand discussion of more familiar topics.

"Pootty tight spell o' weather we've been havin', Parson."

"Rather cool, certainly," says the unsuspecting clergyman.

"Got all your winter's stock o' wood in yit?"

"No, I haven't," says the parson.

"Waael, Mr. Johns, I've got a lot of pastur'-hickory cut and corded,
that's well seared over now,--and if you'd like some of it, I can let
you have it _very reasonable indeed_."

The sympathy of the Elderkins, if less formal, was none the less hearty.
The Squire had been largely instrumental in securing the settlement of
Mr. Johns, and had been a political friend of his father's. In early
life he had been engaged in the West India trade from the neighboring
port of Middletown; and on one or two occasions he had himself made the
voyage to Porto Rico, taking out a cargo of horses, and bringing back
sugar, molasses, and rum. But it was remarked approvingly in the
bar-room of the Eagle Tavern that this foreign travel had not made the
Squire proud,--nor yet the moderate fortune which he had secured by the
business, in which he was still understood to bear an interest. His
paternal home in Ashfield he had fitted up some years before with
balustrade and other architectural adornments, which, it was averred by
the learned in those matters, were copied from certain palatial
residences in the West Indies.

The Squire united eminently in himself all those qualities which a
Connecticut observer of those times expressed by the words, "right down
smart man." Not a turnpike enterprise could be started in that quarter
of the State, but the Squire was enlisted, and as shareholder or
director contributed to its execution. A clear-headed, kindly, energetic
man, never idle, prone rather to do needless things than to do nothing;
an ardent disciple of the Jeffersonian school, and in this combating
many of those who relied most upon his sagacity in matters of business;
a man, in short, about whom it was always asked, in regard to any
question of town or State policy, "What does the Squire think?" or "How
does the Squire mean to vote?" And the Squire's opinion was sure to be a
round, hearty one, which he came by honestly, and about which one who
thought differently might safely rally his columns of attack. The
opinion of Giles Elderkin was not inquired into for the sake of a tame
following