his purpose. He had an immense supply of such stuff stored away,
much more than he could ever use.

Overholt looked at it with admiration, but said nothing. It was the
college town where he had lived so happily and hoped to live again. It
was distinctly recognisable, and many of the buildings were not only
cleverly made, but were coloured very like the originals. He was so much
interested that he forgot to say anything.

"It's a silly thing, anyway," said Newton, disappointed by his silence.
"It's like toys!"

Overholt looked up, and the boy saw his pleased face.

"It's very far from silly," he said. "I believe you're born to be a
builder, boy! It's not only not silly, but it's very well done indeed!"

"I'll bet you can't tell what the place is," observed Newton, a secret
joy stealing through him at his father's words.

"Know it? I should think I did, and I wish we were there now! Here's the
College, and there's our house in the street on the other side of the
common. The church is first-rate, it's really like it--and there's the
Roman Catholic Chapel and the Public Library in Main Street."

"Why, you really do recognise the places!" cried Newton in delight. "I
didn't think anybody'd know them!"

"One would have to be blind not to, if one knew the town," said
Overholt. "And there's the dear old lane!" He was absorbed in the model.
"And the three hickory trees, and even the little bench!"

"Why, do you remember that bench, father?"

Overholt looked up again, quickly and rather dreamily.

"Yes. It was there that I asked your mother to marry me," he said.

"Not really? Then I'm glad I put it in!"

"So am I, for the dear old time's sake and for her sake, and for yours,
my boy. Tell me when you made this, and how you can remember it all so
well."

The lad sat down on the high stool again before the lathe and looked
through the dingy window at the scraggy trees outside, beyond the
forlorn yard.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "I kind of remember it, I suppose, because
I liked it better than this. And when I first had the idea I was sitting
out there in the yard looking at this board. It belongs to a broken
table that had been thrown out there. And I carried it up to my room
when you were out. I thought you wouldn't mind my taking it. And I
picked up scraps that might be useful, and got some gum, and old Barbara
made me some flour paste. It's got green now, and it smells like
thunder, but it's good still. That'