ilant auctioneer, fairly dancing upon the fence in the energy of
his delight, broke in here,--

"Can't take no bids, gentlemen, short of a half-dollar rise, each time!"

Old Woollen retired, discomfited, and was seen no more.

From this point the bidding ran up rapidly till it reached twenty-five
dollars, where it stopped, Samson Newell being the successful bidder.

It was a study to watch the man, now that his chance for reaching home
that day brightened. Instead of being elate, his spirits seemed to fall
as he made his arrival at the village certain.

"Ah!" he thought, "are my father and mother yet living? How will my
brothers and sisters welcome me home?"

How, indeed?

* * * * *

In the village where dwelt Jacob Newell and his wife, an old man, lame
and totally blind, had been for over thirty years employed by the town
to ring the meetinghouse-bell at noon, and at nine o'clock in the
evening. For this service, the salary fixed generations before was five
dollars, and summer and winter, rain or shine, he was always at his post
at the instant.

When the old man rang the evening-bell on the Thanksgiving-Day whereof I
write, he aroused Jacob and his wife from deep reverie.

"Oh, Jacob!" said the latter, "such a waking dream as I have had! I
thought they all stood before me,--all,--every one,--none missing! And
they were little children again, and had come to say their prayers
before going to bed! They were all there, and I could not drive it from
my heart that I loved Samson best!"

His name had hardly been mentioned between them for fifteen years.

Jacob Newell, with a strange look, as though he were gazing at some
dimly defined object afar off, slowly spoke,--

"I have thought sometimes that I should like to know where he lies, if
he is dead,--or how he lives, if he be living. Shall we meet him? Shall
we meet him? Five goodly spirits await us in heaven; will _he_ be there,
also? Oh, no! he was a bad, bad, bad son, and he broke his father's
heart!"

"He was a bad son, Jacob, giddy and light-headed, but not wholly bad.
Oh, he was so strong, so handsome, so bright and brave! If he is living,
I pray God that he may come back to see us for a little, before we
follow our other lost ones!"

"If he should come back," said Jacob, turning very white, but speaking
clearly and distinctly, "I would drive him from my door, and tell him
to be gone forever! A wine-bibber, dissolute, pa