He  felt  aBhamed  of  himself,  iu  his  great  hnnting-
boots  splashed  with  swamp  mnd,  his  buckskins  marred
with  woodland  thorn  and  thicket,  but  not  a  mark  of
honest  toil  about  him.  Had  he  been  in  fine  broad-
cloth he  wonld  not  have  felt  so  humiliated ;  for  the
nseless  labor  of  play  cnts  a  sorrier  figure  in  the  face
of  genaine  work  for  the  great  ends  of  lite  than  idle-
ness itself.  He  wonld  not  have  been  half  so  dis-
graced by  nothing  at  all  in  liaud  as  by  that  bag  of
game;  and  as  for  the  money  in  that  old  stocking
under  the  feather-bed,  it  seemed  to  him  like  the  frnits
of  his  own  dishonesty,

The  impulse  was  strong  upon  him,  then  and  there,
to  declare  that  he  would  take  none  of  that  hoard.
"  Now  look  here,  Mrs.  Edwards,"  said  he,  fairly
coloring  like  a  girl  as  he  spoke,  and  smiling  uneasily,
"  I  don't  want  that  money."

Ann  looked  at  him  with  the  look  of  one  who  is
stung,  and  yet  incrednlons.  Elmira  gave  a  little
gasp  of  delight.     "  Oh,  mother  !"  she  cried.
"  Keep  still !"  ordered  her  mother.  "  I  dnn'no'
what  you  mean,"  she  said  to  Squlie  Merritt.
XJ


The  Squire's  emile  deepened,  but  he  looked  fright-
ened ;  hia  eyes  fell  before  hers.  "  Why,  what  I  say —
I  don't  want  this  money,  this  time.  I  have  all  I
need.     Keep  it  over  till  the  next  half."

Squire  Eben  Merritt  had  a  feeling  as  if  something
actually  tangible,  winged  and  clawed  and  beaked,
and  flaming  with  eyes,  ponnced  upon  him.  He  fair-
ly shrank  back,  bo  fierce  waa  Ann's  burst  of  indigna-
tion ;  it  produced  a  sense  of  actual  contact.
