They went out of the barn-yard and across the chip-yard to an out-house below the garden, and not far from the spout, called the poultry-house; though it was quite as much the property of the hogs, who had a regular sleeping apartment there, where corn was always fed out to the fatting ones. Opening a kind of granary store-room, where the corn for this purpose was stowed, Mr. Van Brunt took down from a shelf a large hammer and a box of nails, and asked Ellen what size she wanted. "Pretty large." "So?" "No, a good deal bigger yet, I should like." "A good deal bigger yet — who wants 'em?" "I do," said Ellen, smiling. "You do! do you think your little arms can manage that big hammer?" "I don't know; I guess so; I'll try." "Where do you want 'em driv?" "Up in a closet in my room," said Ellen, speaking as softly as if she had feared her aunt was at the corner; "I want 'em to hang up dresses and things." Mr. Van Brunt half smiled, and put up the hammer and nails on the shelf again. "Now, I'll tell you what we'll do," said he; — "you can't manage them big things; I'll put 'em up for you to-night when I come in to supper." "But I'm afraid she won't let you," said Ellen, doubtfully. "Never you mind about that," said he, "I'll fix it. Maybe we won't ask her." "Oh, thank you!" said Ellen, joyfully, her face recovering its full sunshine in answer to his smile, and clapping her hands, she ran back to the house, while more slowly Mr. Van Brunt returned to the threshers. Ellen seized dustpan and brush, and ran up to her room; and setting about the business with right good will, she soon had her closets in beautiful order. The books, writing desk, and work-box were then bestowed very carefully in the one; in the other her coats and dresses, neatly folded up in a pile on the floor, waiting till the nails should be driven. Then the remainder of her things were gathered up from the floor, and neatly arranged in the trunk again. Having done all this, Ellen's satisfaction was unbounded. By this time dinner was ready. As soon after dinner as she could escape from Miss Fortunes's calls upon her, Ellen stole up to her room and her books, and began work in earnest. The whole afternoon was spent over sums, and verbs, and maps, and pages of history. A little before tea, as Ellen was setting the table, Mr. Van Brunt came into the kitchen with a bag on his back. "What have you got there, Mr. Van Brunt?" said Miss Fortune. "A bag of seed-corn." "What are you going to do with it?" "Put it up in the garret for safe keeping." "Set it down in the corner, and I'll take it up to-morrow." "Thank you, Ma’am; — rather go myself, if it's all the same to you. You needn't be scared, I've left my shoes at the door. Miss Ellen, I believe I've got to go through your room."