comments they are. That library of
pamphlets and comments, in my opinion, is as valuable as Pepys's Diary.

Old Humphrey had struck the right chord. In Pepys's Diary, which was
kept for nine years during the gay and exciting period of the reign of
Charles II, one lives, as it were, amid the old court scenes.

Franklin turned over the leaves of the volume. "It is a curious book,"
said he.

The light was poor, and he took the book to the door. Above the tall
houses of the narrow street was a rift of sunny blue sky.

"There is something in the handwriting that looks familiar," said he.
"It seems as though I had seen that writing somewhere before. Where did
you find these books?"

"They came to me from my wife's father, who kept the storeway until he
was nigh upon ninety years old. He set great store by these books, which
led me to read them.

"When Pepys's Diary was printed I was reminded of them, and read them
over again, the comments and all. The person who made those notes had a
very interesting mind. I think him to have been a philosopher."

The ink on the margin of the volume was fading, and Franklin strained
his eyes to read the comments. Suddenly he turned and came into the
store and sat down.

"Father Humphrey, bring me another volume."

Father Humphrey lighted the candle again and went into the same dark and
tomblike recess, and brought out two more volumes, striking them against
the corners of shelves to remove from them the dust and mold.

He noticed that his patron seemed overcome. Franklin was not an
emotional man, but his lip quivered.

"You think that the book is interesting?"

He lifted his face and seemed lost in thought.

"Ecton--Ecton--Ecton," he said. "Uncle Tom lived there--Uncle Tom, who
started the subscription for the chime of bells."

He had found the word "Ecton" in the pamphlets, and he again began to
turn the leaves.

"Squire Isted," he said, "Squire Isted." He had found the name of Squire
Isted on one of the leaves. He had heard the name in his youth.

"The World's End," he said. He stood up and turned round and round.

"How queer he acts!" thought Father Humphrey. "I thought him a very calm
man. What is it about the World's End?" he asked.

"Oh, it is the name of an old tavern that I have found here. I had some
great-uncles that used to have a farm and forge near an inn of that
name. That was very long ago, before I was born. Old names seem to me
like voices of the past."