statesman.” These words rang in Dan’s ears. It seemed, then, that he could satisfy his father’s hopes for him by peddling Yankee notions and tin kettles! Nothing that had ever happened to Dan had really touched his self-conceit like this. He made no answer but a low whistle. It was a quaint picture, there in the large old sitting-room. The doctor sat by the grate smoking his little Gambier clay pipe, with a goose’s wing-bone for a stem. Dan, rosy with health and strength, and long riding in the open air, whip in hand, his pantaloons inside his bootlegs, and Mrs. Forest hanging upon his muscular arm, a little pained that her son seemed so indifferent to her tenderness—a tenderness so great that she had not even noticed yet the disposition of the legs of his trowsers! He got away from his mother’s caresses as soon as he could without positive rudeness, for well he knew that there was “metal more attractive” in the house somewhere; having kept up a correspondence with Susie as well as was practicable with his being constantly moving from town to town. His mother would have something brought in for him to eat;—no, he would go into the kitchen and have Dinah give him something. He would much prefer that. Mrs. Forest did not once think of Susie, or perhaps she would have followed him. Certainly she would, had she known that Dinah was making an elaborate search for eggs in the barn. So Dan found Susie alone, and the meeting was very demonstrative, on his side at least. He held her pressed like a vise in his strong arms, making her both happy and wretched at once—happy at the rude proofs of his affection, and wretched lest her love for him should be discovered. Hearing steps he released her, and said he had come for something to eat. Susie, too full of joy at meeting the one being in the world who loved her, to know what she was about, brought Dan a plate of soda-biscuits, and then stopped to look at him. He crunched two or three between his strong white teeth, interspersing the operation with more kisses, and then Dinah was observed approaching the house. Susie disappeared into the pantry, conscious of the tell-tale blushes flushing her whole face. “Lor bress you honey, I’se glad to see ye. I knowed ye hadn’t runned away.” “You knew I’d turn up like a bad penny, Dinah. So I have, but I’m off again directly. I say, Susie,” he called, “if I’ve to eat any more of these crackers, do bring me some coffee, or a ramrod, or something to help get them down.”