"Winthrop, your mother is afraid, from something in Will's letter, that you are in want of an overcoat. Tell us if you are, and we will do our best to endeavour to supply the deficiency. I thought you had one; but I suppose it must be pretty old by this time. My dear son, we have all one interest; if you want anything, let us know, and if it _can_ be had you know enough of us to know you shall not want it. We have not much to spare certainly, but necessaries we will try to procure; and so long as we need not groan about the present it is not my way to grumble about the future. We shall get along, somehow, I trust. "I shall send this by post, as I do not know of any opportunity, and do not think it best to wait for one." "Your loving father, "W. Landholm. "Winthrop and Will." "My dear boys, "It is very late to-night, and I shall not have any time in the morning, so must scratch a word as well as I can tonight -- you know my fingers are not very well accustomed to handling the pen. It gives me the greatest pleasure I can have in this world when I hear that you are getting along so well -- except I could hear one other thing of you, -- and that would be a pleasure beyond anything in this world. Let us know everything you want -- and we will try to send it to you, and if we can't we will all want it together. -- We are all well -- Winifred mourns for you all the while, in spite of trying not to do it. What the rest of us do is no matter. I shall send a box, if I can, before New Year, with some cakes and apples -- write us before that, in time, all you want. Your mother." This double letter, being duly put in the post according to Mr. Landholm's promise, in the course of time and the post came safe to the Shagarack post-office; from whence it was drawn one evening by its owner, and carried to a little upper room where Rufus sat, or rather stood, at his books. There was not a great deal there beside Rufus and the books; a little iron stove looked as if it disdained to make anybody comfortable, and hinted that much persuasion was not tried with it; a bed was in one corner, and a deal table in the middle of the floor, at which Winthrop sat down and read his letters. He was longer over them than was necessary to read them, by a good deal. So Rufus thought, and glanced at him sundry times, though he did not think fit to interrupt him. He lifted his head at last and passing them over coolly to Rufus, drew _his_ book near and opened his dictionary. He did not look up while Rufus read, nor when after reading he began to walk with thoughtful large strides up and down the little room. "Governor!" said Rufus suddenly and without looking at him, "sometimes I am half tempted to think I will take Mr. Haye's offer." "Did he make you an offer?" "He said what was near enough to it." "What tempts you, Will?" "Poverty. It is only, after all, taking a short road instead of a long one to the same end." "The end of what?" said Winthrop.