was the _fee simple_ property of Allen Brigs. A pretty little white-washed house, almost hidden by the clustering fruit-trees, was their humble tenement. A handsome little garden, tastefully laid out, occupied the space between the house and rivulet, and here Mrs. Brigs sought recreation when burthened with the _ennui_ of knitting and darning. A cow and calf—a sow and pig—a horse, and a yard full of poultry of every species, composed the family stock. And with all these, and nothing more, they were rich—rich in the honesty of their own hearts which knew no covetousness—contentment was theirs, and that was riches. They were surrounded by kind neighbors—some affluent, but not aristocratic. An athletic son of sixteen, and a beautiful daughter of twelve, were their only offspring. Solomon Brigs was his father’s sole help, but they managed every thing to admiration. Nanny was a sweet tempered child—affectionate and dutiful. Every body loved her, and she loved every body. Notwithstanding she was a country girl, there was a native, witching, fascinating grace in her every movement. She was so active, and gay, and cheerful—so full of life and joy—and so mild and modest! She had never known sickness: health flowed through every vein, and glowed in her soft dark eyes and blooming cheeks—and her smiling face was a sure index to her pure heart. Her finely shaped head, and intelligent forehead, bore testimony to her keen susceptibilities. Solomon was a smart boy—so said his knowing father; and though he had made no higher attainments than reading, writing, and cyphering to the single rule of three, he knew how to plough the corn, and hill the potatoes, and weed his sister’s flower-beds. He could not solve a problem in mathematics, but he could jump higher and hallo louder than any boy in the village, large or small. Nanny was a proficient in the art of housekeeping, but not in French, painting, &c. &c. She, too, could read, write, and cypher, and Mr. Brigs considered that enough book learning for _his_ children. It was all _he_ knew, and there was danger in too much. But we come now to give our characters a more conspicuous place in the public mind.