It was long before Nicholas concluded; but the time seemed brief. He sat down, and the minister took the floor. He thanked Mr. Oldfield and then went on to say that, although it might be informal, he would suggest that the town, with Mr. Oldfield's permission, place an inscription on the boulder in the Flat-Iron Lot, stating why it, was to be held historically sacred. The town roared and stamped, but meanwhile Nicholas Oldfield was quietly rising. "In that case, pa'son," said he, "I should like to state that it would be my purpose to make over that lot to the town to be held as public land forever." Again the village folk outdid themselves in applause, while Young Nick muttered, "Well, I vum!" beneath his breath, and Hattie replied, antiphonally, "My soul!" These were not the notes of mere surprise. They were prayers for guidance in this exigency of finding a despised intelligence exalted. The celebration went on to a victorious close. Who shall sing the sweetness of Isabel North, as she sat by the log-cabin door, placidly spinning flax, or the horror of the moment when, redskins swooping down on her and settlers on them, the ghost swept in and put them all to flight? Who will ever forget the exercises in the hall, when the "Suwanee River" was sung by minstrels, to a set of tableaux representing the "old folks" at their cabin door, "playin' wid my brudder" as a game of stick-knife, and the "Swanny" River itself by a frieze of white pasteboard swans in the background? There were patriotic songs, accompanied by remarks laudatory of England; since it was justly felt that our mother-land might be wounded if, on an occasion of this sort, we fomented international differences by "America" or the reminiscent triumph of "The Sword of Bunker Hill." A very noble sentiment pervaded Tiverton when, at twilight, little groups of tired and very happy people lingered here and there before "harnessing up" and betaking themselves to their homes. The homes themselves meant more to them now, not as shelters, but as sacred shrines; and many a glance sought out Nicholas Oldfield standing quietly by--the reverential glance accorded those who find out unsuspected wealth. Young Nick approached his father with an awkwardness sitting more heavily upon him than usual. "Well," said he, "I'm mighty glad you gi'n 'em that lot." Old Nicholas nodded gravely, and at that moment Hattie came up, all in a flutter. "Father," said she quite appealingly, "I wisht you'd come over to supper. Luella an' Freeman Henry'll be there. It's a great day, an'"-- "Yes, I know 'tis," answered Nicholas kindly. "I'm much obleeged, but Mary's goin' to eat with me. Mebbe we might look in, along in the evenin'. Come, Mary!" Mary, very sweet in her plain dress and white kerchief, was talking with young Marden, her husband for the day; but she turned about contentedly. "Yes, gran'ther," said she, without a look behind, "I'm coming!" THE END OF ALL LIVING