d
the Boer-woman as he went out at the door. "If he's ugly, did not the
Lord make him? And are we to laugh at the Lord's handiwork? It is better
to be ugly and good than pretty and bad; though of course it's nice when
one is both," said Tant Sannie, looking complacently at the picture on
the wall.

In the afternoon the German and Bonaparte sat before the door of the
cabin. Both smoked in complete silence--Bonaparte with a book in his
hands and his eyes half closed; the German puffing vigorously, and
glancing up now and again at the serene blue sky overhead.

"Supposing--you--you, in fact, made the remark to me," burst forth the
German suddenly, "that you were looking for a situation."

Bonaparte opened his mouth wide, and sent a stream of smoke through his
lips.

"Now supposing," said the German--"merely supposing, of course--that
some one, some one, in fact, should make an offer to you, say, to become
schoolmaster on their farm and teach two children, two little girls,
perhaps, and would give you forty pounds a year, would you accept it?
Just supposing, of course."

"Well, my dear friend," said Bonaparte, "that would depend on
circumstances. Money is no consideration with me. For my wife I have
made provision for the next year. My health is broken. Could I meet a
place where a gentleman would be treated as a gentleman I would accept
it, however small the remuneration. With me," said Bonaparte, "money is
no consideration."

"Well," said the German, when he had taken a whiff or two more from his
pipe, "I think I shall go up and see Tant Sannie a little. I go up often
on Sunday afternoon to have a general conversation, to see her, you
know. Nothing--nothing particular, you know."

The old man put his book into his pocket, and walked up to the farmhouse
with a peculiarly knowing and delighted expression of countenance.

"He doesn't suspect what I'm going to do," soliloquized the German;
"hasn't the least idea. A nice surprise for him."

The man whom he had left at his doorway winked at the retreating figure
with a wink that was not to be described.

Chapter 1.VI. Bonaparte Blenkins Makes His Nest.

"Ah, what is the matter?" asked Waldo, stopping at the foot of the
ladder with a load of skins on his back that he was carrying up to the
loft. Through the open door in the gable little Em was visible, her
feet dangling from the high bench on which she sat. The room, once a
storeroom, had been divided by a row