The father took the money from his son with tears of pleasure. “It is odd enough.” said he, “that I should feel pleasure at such a time; but this is the blessing of having good children. As long as we all are ready to help one another in this manner, we can never be very miserable, happen what may. Now let us think of rebuilding our house,” continued the active old man. “Frank, reach me down my hat. I’ve a twinge of the rheumatism in this arm: I caught a little cold the night of the fire, I believe; but stirring about will do me good, and I must not be lazy: I should be ashamed to be lazy amongst so many active young men.” The father and sons were very busy at work, when an ill-looking man rode up to them; and, after asking if their name was Frankland, put a paper into each of their hands. These papers were copies of a notice to quit their farm, before the ensuing first of September, under pain of paying double rent for the same. “This is some mistake, sir,” said old Frankland, mildly. “No mistake, sir,” replied the stranger. “You will find the notice is a good notice, and duly served. Your lease I have seen myself within these few days: it expired last May; and you have held over, contrary to law and justice, eleven months, this being April.” “My father never did anything contrary to law and justice in his whole life,” interrupted Frank; whose eyes flashed with indignation. “Softly, Frank,” said his father, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder; “softly, my dear boy: let this gentleman and I come to an understanding quietly.--Here is some mistake, sir. It is very true that my lease expired last May; but I had a promise of a renewal from my good landlord.” “I don’t know, sir, anything of that,” replied the stranger, as he looked over a memorandum-book. “I do not know whom you denominate your _good landlord_; that being no way of describing a man in the eye of the law: but if you refer to the original grantor, or lessor, Francis Folingsby, of Folingsby-place, Monmouthshire, Esq., I am to inform you that he died at Bath the 17th instant.” “Died! My poor landlord dead! I am very sorry for it.” “And his nephew, Philip Folingsby, Esq., came into possession as heir at law,” continued the stranger, in an unvaried tone; “and under his orders I act, having a power of attorney for that purpose.” “But, sir, I am sure Mr. Philip Folingsby cannot know of the promise of renewal, which I had from his uncle.” “Verbal promises, you know, are nothing, sir; mere air, without witnesses: and, if gratuitous on the part of the deceased, are no ways binding, either in common law or equity, on the survivor or heir. In case the promise had been in writing, and on a proper stamp, it would have been something.” “It was not in writing, to be sure, sir,” said Frankland, “but I thought my good landlord’s word was as good as his bond; and I said so.”