A Modern Instance

not stop at the hotel for Bartley till nine o'clock. "Thought I'd give you time for

o dip into the gloom of the first woods; it was not cold; the snow felt the warmth, and packed moistly under their runners. The ai

y, with the light sigh of one to whom

If it wa'n't for the uncertainty of the thing, there are a lot of fellows like you that wouldn't stand it here a minute. Why, if we had a dead sure thing of over-the-river,-good climate, plenty to eat and wear, and not much to do,-I don't believe any of us would keep Darling Minnie waiting,-well, a great while. But you see, the thing's all on paper, and that makes us cautious, and willing to hang on here aw

in, all under the same price,

all day, and the philosophy don't cost me anything, and the fellows like it. Roughing it the way they do, they can stand 'most a

began, and that he was never able to contribute to those railroads, mills, elevators, towns, and cities which were sure to be built, sir, sure to be built, wherever he went. When he came home at last to the woods, some hundreds of miles north of Equity, he found that some one had realized his early dream of a summer hotel on the shore of the beautiful lake there; and he unenviously settled down to admire the landlord's thrift, and to act as guide and cook for parties of young ladies and gentlemen who started from the hotel to camp in the woods. This brought him into the society of cultivated people, for which he had a real passion. He had always had a few thoughts rattling round in his skull, and he liked to make sure of them in talk with those who had enjoyed greater advantages than himself. He never begrudged them their luck; he simply and sweetly admired them; he made studies of their several characters, and was never tired of analyzing them to their advantage to the next summer's p

ey constantly plunged down the slopes of little hills, and climbed the sides of the little valleys, and from time to time they had to turn out for teams drawin

e, when the last party had passed. "They're ge

ed the camp, a long, low structure of logs, with the roof broken at one point by a stovepipe, and the walls irregularly

thmical stroke of axes came to it out of the forest; but the camp was deserted, and in the stillness Kinney'

curious feeling possessed him; sickness of himself as of some one else; a longing, consciously helpless, to be some

im, and joining him in a survey of the landscape, with his han

bly," assen

as he's young; or haint got anybody that wants his

thout taking his eyes from a distant peak t

that aint exactly what I meant to say: what I meant was that any man engaged in in

th scorn. "I suppose it is," he added. "Well, here I am,-right on the commun

's a help," a

adness. "I mean that, if you're not in first-rate spiritual condition

ace for him. But you're run down. You ought to come out here, and take a hand, and be a man a

the door. "What have

The round, unhewn logs showed their form everywhere; the crevices were calked with moss; and the walls were warm and tight. It was dark between the bunks, but beyond it was lighter, and Bartley

g a movable bench. He hung his coat on a peg and rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and began to whistle cheerily, like a man who enjoys his work, as he t

ard," he explained, "and pie means meat-pie,-or squash-pie, at a pinch. Today's pie-baking day. But you needn't be troubled on that account. So's to-morrow, and so was yesterday. Pie twenty-one times a week is the word, and don't you forget it. They say old Agassiz," Kinney went on, in that easy, familiar fondn

y, nodding gloomil

seem to get enough of it. Ever try apples when you was at work? They say old Greeley kep' his desk full of 'em; kep' munchin' away all the while when he was writin' his editorials. And one of them German poets-I don't know but what it was old Gu

piecrust, fitted it into his tins, filled these from a jar of mince-meat, covered them with a s

sh-balls three times a week for breakfast, as reg'lar as Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday comes round. And Fridays I make up a sort of chowd

on in the First Church

o? Why?" a

in interfering with any

ith the rolling-pin in his hand, "there 'a s

a good while," said Bartley, with c

ood fellow's optimism, so that he as

and he made up the res

lf out of an unpleasant reverie, "I guess we shal

do," sai

und anything for a stand-by that come up to beans. I'm goin' to give 'em potatoes and cabbage to-day,-kind of a boiled-dinner day,-but you'll see there aint one in ten 'll touch 'em to what there will these old residenters. Potatoes and cabbage'll do for a kind of a delicacy,-sort of a side-dish,

thing of the kind," s

ion of language thrown out at the object,-as old Matthew

n't suppose you were s

, you know. I don't get any time for books, as a general rule. But there'

brain food that you happen

sophy of a thing when I get a chance. Now, there's tea, for e

u mean," sa

strong,-molasses in it, and no milk. That's a brain food, if ever there was one.

seminary for young ladies, instea

nsylvanians and the Southerners drink coffee. Why our New England folks don't even know how to make coffee so it's fit to drink! And it's just so all over Europe. The Russians drink tea, and they'd e't up those coffee-drin

and Germans? They drink coffee, and the

Germans dr

es

link, as old Darwin says." He joined Bartley in his laugh cordially, and looked up at the round clock nailed to a log. "It's about time I set my tables,

me from this out," said Bartley.

inney, in tremen

r the committee, and I suppose Henry Bird will run it for a while; or perhap

ht you'd boug

the office hasn't made any money. All t

t so

way about as poor as I came.

ves against breakage, and which their servants chip to the quick at every edge. Kinney laid bread and crackers by each plate, and on each he placed a vast slab of cold corned beef. Then he lifted the lid of the pot in which the cabbage and potatoes were boiling together, and pricked

rtley, not much distur

h, "I didn't like your good clothes. I don't suppose I ever had a suit of clothes to fit me. Feel kind of ashamed, you know, when I go into the sto

ilor's," said Bartley, with il

p my mind to swallow you. And that turnout of yours, it kind of staggered me, after I got over the clothes. Why, it wa'n't so much the colt,-any man likes to ride after a sorrel colt; and it wa'n't so much the cutter: it was the red linin' with pinked edges that you had to your robe; and it was the red ribbon that you had tied round the waist of your whip. When I see that ribbon on that whip, damn you, I wanted to kill you." Bartley broke out into a laugh, but Kinney went on soberly. "But, thinks I to myself: 'Here! Now you stop right here! You wait! You give the fellow a chance

artley, with iro

s teeth, and then he said: "I'll tell you what: if you're going a

ent. "If your friend offers me twenty doll

g a fresh handful of tea into the pot, and filling it up with water, he took dow