thought we ought to have had one and we were going to call him little Eli,” was the introduction Barclugh had to the Red Squirrel Inn presided over by Mrs. Charity Puffer. Being put on his guard by the first onslaught, but concluding that she was harmless, Barclugh determined to learn more of the American phenomenon before his departure. Mrs. Puffer led her guest to the sitting-room, flew up stairs, told her cook that a gentleman of quality was there for supper, put on a clean dress, spread a clean table-cloth, flew out to have a chicken killed, brought out a couple of pieces of silver that used to be in Deacon Hopper’s family and then came in and sat down before her guest. Every moment of talk that was wasted in getting supper ready seemed an irretrievable loss to her existence,--especially when she had some one on whom to ply her vocation. “Don’t you think that I would make a smart wife for a nice rich man?” she began again. “This life in the country nearly kills me. You know I never had to live this way before I married Mr. Puffer. He brought me out here and I have had to work my fingernails off. Don’t you see how poor I am? I was a beautiful young woman and he couldn’t furnish me any servants. I worked and worked, for I was so industrious. What was he doing all this time? Poor man, he was laid up with a disorder like a fever, and I had to nurse him and care for him. Then he got discouraged. Well, I couldn’t teach him anything. He was so obstinate.--He wouldn’t dress himself up like I wanted and I had the hardest time to get him to take me to meeting.--He didn’t want to wear gloves, so I used to say to him: ‘Father, you must try and look nice,’ and he would say: ‘Jest so, Charity.’ He would hold his hands and arms straight down by his sides and his fingers out stiff when I put gloves on him. Well, I used to get so provoked, because he knew better than that. When I used to say: ‘Father, you must let your hands hang kind o’ natural,’ he would say: ‘Jest so, Charity.’ Well, I want to tell you, when the war broke out I just made up my mind that father had to go to war or I would go myself. So he went one day, when I hit him with the boot-jack, and I haven’t seen him since.