“Ah, that’s it!” said Mr. Jenkins, recollecting the object of his visit—“that’s what we’re a coming to. This gentleman, Mr. Brigs, wishes to reside in your family, and to eat at your table, sir. I hope—I s’pose you can accommodate him, Mr. Brigs?” Mr. Brigs said that he could, and that he should be happy to serve him, Mr. Dobbs, in any other manner possible. Matters being thus considered, and terms agreed on, Mr Jenkins arose to depart; having first satisfied Mr. Dobbs that he, Dobbs, would be sure to sleep soundly that night, and assured him of the total absence of all danger from external assaults under the roof of so great and good a man as his friend and neighbor Allen Brigs. Before retiring to rest, Mr. Dobbs acquainted himself with the characters before him, by conversing with them, and each of them, on various topics; and found to his satisfaction that they were kind and noble-hearted people. The characteristic traits of Mr. Brigs were rough and unique, yet there was a generous frankness about him—such a flow of spirits and good humor—that he considered him a pleasant man. Nor was Mrs. Brigs unlike her husband in these particulars. To tell the truth, Mr. Dobbs was pleased. More than once did he get a full view of the sweet face of Nanny; and more than once did Nanny blush to catch his eye. Timothy admired her modest looks, and fancied that he _might_ one day love her. He wondered how old she was, and blest his luck that he had fallen into that particular family, where such a beautiful face as hers might shed its sunny smiles about him—perhaps to cheer many of his tedious moments. He fancied she _must_ be young, yet she seemed already expanding into womanhood. Such perfect symmetry of form, and grace of carriage, he had never seen in a country girl: and then the rich intelligence that beamed through her soft dark eyes, convinced him that she was born to follow some more noble pursuit than housewifery. The hour grew late, and Timothy bade good-night, and crept softly to his room, where fatigue soon lulled him to sleep. But he dreamed! Yes, he dreamed of one sweet angelic being, whom he had only seen once—only once—and that sweet being was Nanny! “Zooks!” said Mr. Brigs, after Timothy had left the parlor—“but he seems to be a clever youth. Nanny, what do you think of him—eh?” “I don’t know, father,” replied Nanny—“but—I think—he’s quite handsome.” “Handsome! Yes, and I reckon he considered Miss Nanny Brigs a leetle specimen of the handsomest girl he ever saw. I saw him a squintin’ on that side of the house.” “Oh, father!” cried Nanny, faintly blushing. “I’m sure he _looked_ at us all—he looked at Solomon, too.” “What’s his name, father?” inquired Solomon—“Stobbs?” “Dobbs—Timothy Dobbs, I think, and that’s all I know about him yet: but we’ll find what kind of a chap he is soon, I guess. I expect he’s a squirt, any how.” “I hope not,” said Mrs. Brigs. “And I hope not, too,” rejoined Mr. Brigs; “but we’ll see!”