Twenty-four years ago, when the factory agent was about to build a cage for the bird he had caught, he purchased all the land lying in the northern acute angle formed by the two roads, extending to the river and a cross road from the turnpike to the Mills. James Hungerford believed that Poppleton, with its valuable water power, and its maritime advantages, would become a great city, though it was then only in an embryo state. The tract of land he had purchased appeared to be of no practical value, and he had given only twelve hundred dollars for it. About fifty acres of it on the turnpike was level enough for cultivation, though there were several eligible sites for building on the Mills road. On one of these, at the forks of the roads, he had built his house. People of practical sense laughed at James when he bought this land; said that “a fool and his money were soon parted,” and other sharp things, which the purchaser was too independent to heed. When Poppleton was a city, his harvest would come. He had leased it as a pasture for enough to pay his taxes and keep the fences in repair; but four and twenty years had failed to realize his hope. Poppleton had grown amazingly, but still his wild lands were not in demand. Pine Hill, as this rough territory was called, was a favorite resort of Eugene; and when the vision of three millions dawned upon him, he could not help thinking what a paradise money would make of it. He could not have found a region in the whole state so admirably adapted to the improvements which his taste coveted. He knew just where the mansion should be located on the turnpike, just where the stable must be placed, just where certain roads should be built, and just where certain summer houses and “lazy places” were to be constructed, in order to bring into being the most splendid domain the world had ever seen. But then there were the doubts in regard to the reality of his present situation, and he permitted Pine Hill to bloom for the present in its own wild grandeur. “Home again, mother!” exclaimed he, as he assisted Mrs. Hungerford and Julia to alight from the stage. “Yes, and I am glad to get home.” “So am I,” added Julia. “I am tired out.”