result was that we soon found the whole
town discussing the _Star_. The interest cropped up in the most
unexpected places, and developed a number of very amusing incidents. We
had lifted a little new corner of the veil of life in Hempfield, and we
had Nort to tell us how wonderful and amusing it was. Not everybody
liked it--for life, everywhere and always, arouses opposition as well as
approval--and one man even came in to cancel his subscription because
he thought he found unfavourable references to himself in one of the
poems; but, on the whole, people were interested and amused.

With all his enthusiasm, Nort got no more satisfaction out of the events
of the week than the old Captain. On Saturday afternoons, when the
farmers came to town, the Captain loved to stroll up the street in a
leisurely way, pass a word here and there with his neighbours, and
generally enjoy himself. I always loved to see him on such
occasions--his fine old face, his long rusty coat, the cane which was at
once the sceptre of his dominion and the support of his age.

Upon this particular afternoon he had the consciousness of having
written a truly scorching editorial on William J. Bryan, as trenchant a
thing--the Captain loved "trenchant"--as ever he wrote in his life, and
when people began to speak to him about that week's issue of the _Star_,
it pleased him greatly. It _was_ a great issue!

Mr. Tole, the druggist, for example, who was secretly much gratified
with the publication of his favourite poem, which he shrewdly considered
excellent free advertising, remarked:

"Had a great paper this week, Cap'n."

The old Captain responded with dignity:

"The _Star_, Mr. Tole, is looking up."

How sweet was all this to the old Captain. For so long the current had
been setting against him, there had been so little of the feeling of
success and power, which he loved. We could distinguish the triumphant
notes in the Captain's voice when he returned to the office. He sat down
in the editorial chair with a special air of confidence.

"Anthy," he said, clearing his throat.

"Yes, Uncle Newt."

"Anthy, I have hopes of Hempfield. Even in these days, when the people
seem to be going off after false gods, the truth will prevail."

He paused.

"We are beginning to hear from our editorial on William J. Bryan."

I recall yet Anthy's laugh--the amusement of it, and yet the deep
sympathy.

The Captain's eye fell upon Nort. He looked him over affec