He then gave a sketch of the afternoon's adventures, to which his mother listened with a keen, steady interest. She compelled him to describe the stranger, Fortune, as minutely as possible, as if desirous of finding some form or event in her own memory to which he could be attached; but without result. After supper Sam squatted upon a stool in the corner of the fireplace, and resumed his reading of “The Old English Baron,” by the light of the burning back-log, pronouncing every word to himself in something between a whisper and a whistle. Gilbert took an account-book, a leaden inkstand, and a stumpy pen from a drawer under the window, and calculated silently and somewhat laboriously. His mother produced a clocked stocking of blue wool, and proceeded to turn the heel. In half an hour's time, however, Sam's whispering ceased; his head nodded violently, and the book fell upon the hearth. “I guess I'll go to bed,” he said; and having thus conscientiously announced his intention, he trotted up the steep back-stairs on his hands and feet. In two minutes more, a creaking overhead announced that the act was accomplished. Gilbert filliped the ink out of his pen into the fire, laid it in his book, and turned away from the table. “Roger has bottom,” he said at last, “and he's as strong as a lion. He and Fox will make a good team, and the roads will be solid in three days, if it don't rain.” “Why, you don't mean,”--she commenced. “Yes, mother. You were not for buying him, I know, and you were right, inasmuch as there is always _some_ risk. But it will make a difference of two barrels a load, besides having a horse at home. If I plough both for corn and oats next week,--and it will be all the better for corn, as the field next to Carson's is heavy,--I can begin hauling the week after, and we'll have the interest by the first of April, without borrowing a penny.” “That would be good,--very good, indeed,” said she, dropping her knitting, and hesitating a moment before she continued; “only--only, Gilbert, I didn't expect you would be going so soon.” “The sooner I begin, mother, the sooner I shall finish.” “I know that, Gilbert,--I know that; but I'm always looking forward to the time when you won't be bound to go at all. Not that Sam and I can't manage awhile--but if the money was paid once”-- “There's less than six hundred now, altogether. It's a good deal to scrape together in a year's time, but if it can be done I will do it. Perhaps, then, you will let some help come into the house. I'm as anxious as you can be, mother. I'm not of a roving disposition, that you know; yet it isn't pleasant to me to see you slave as you do, and for that very reason, it's a comfort when I'm away, that you've one less to work for.” He spoke earnestly, turning his face full upon her. “We've talked this over, often and often, but you never can make me see it in your way,” he then added, in a gentler tone.