One morning at breakfast there came an unexpected interruption, the arrival of Old Master's half brother. I knew that he existed, for on occasions at least a year apart, I had posted letters addressed to him and directed to some town away off in Illinois; but a sense of his unreality was so strong with me that I often smiled to think that Old Master would send a letter to find a shadow. But in came the man that morning at breakfast, strikingly real, brown-bearded, tall, loud of voice, and I thought rather roughly dressed for a gentleman. He was much younger than Old Master. Some one, I don't know who, had told me that years ago he had wandered away in consequence of a disappointment in love, though to look at him now I could not believe that he had ever given entertainment to so tender a sentiment. No part of the landed estate fell to him, so, with a small settlement of ready money, he set forth, swearing that never again would he put foot upon that accursed blue-grass spot. He had never been a drag upon Old Master; indeed, he had been a man of exceeding thrift, had made fortunes but had lost them. I well recall his first words upon stepping into the room. Amid the surprise and the bustle caused by his sudden appearance, his loud voice arose: "Don't want anybody to get scared. Sit down, Guilford, and you, too, Hanna, (nodding at Old Miss). Ah, and this is the one you call Bob? All right, got no objections to that, either. Dropped my baggage out there on the porch. Have someone take it up. Not now, plenty of time. Don't want anybody to get scared; I'm not a pauper. Shall insist upon paying my way. Here, girl, bring another plate; I'm as hungry as a prairie wolf. Look here! (and now he turned to me). Don't want you to call me master. Won't have it; call me Mr. Clem. Long time since I went away, but nothing has changed. Hurry up, there, with that plate. Confound it, don't be put out so, everybody. How are you getting along, Guilford?" All this was rattled off before anyone else had a chance to say a word. Old Master was glad to see him and the tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks. He tried to tell him much but could tell him nothing except that he was welcome to make his home there. "What's board worth?" Mr. Clem asked, and Old Master cried out, "Good Lord! Did I ever hear anything like that? Clem, is it possible that you--" "Mean to pay my board as long as I stay here. You'll have to take the money, Hanna. If you don't agree, I'll grab my saddle-bags and put out. I'm from a place where every man is expected to pay his way. Wish you'd all quit your everlasting sniffling. What are you doing, Bob?" Old Master was now helping his plate. "Another slab of that meat, Guilford. What are you doing, young feller?" "Preparing myself for the law," Young Master answered proudly.