The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-12-26

chuckle, which characterized him now that the noon of life was long since past. His beard was bushy and iron-gray, his mouth, when in repose, indicated strength of purpose, and his eyes had the effect of making one believe that their owner was speaking the truth.
 Mrs. Gansett, borrowing an expression
 often used by the neighbors, was as good
 an old soul as ever lived. With tender ness she cared for the afflicted, and she knew that every one who died was bet ter of. Life, to her, was merely season during which to prepare for death. Often during revivals she would shout as though her quart cup of great joy were overfowing and, without her presence, the mourner's bench seemed to lam guish. The preachers may have been the lamp, and the exhorters may have been the wick, but she was the oil.
 Len Gansett had come to live with his grandparents. His father and mother were dead. The young man was tall and strong, was well educated, but did not appear to be especially fitted for any thing. He was not an idle dreamer, but his fondness for reading novels was much more pronounced than his disposition to perform any kind oflabor. He had lived in New Orleans, had roughed it" with COW boys in Texas, aud he had stood be- hind the counter of a St. Louis dollar store. He had not long been connected with the establishment when the proprie- tor called him one day and said:
 "Gansett, you don't seem to get the hang of things"
 "I am afraid that don't"
 "You are afraid SOP Why, confound it, you don't try. This morning I noticed that you kept book behind the counter and that you paid more attention to it than to my customers. Can't stand anything like that, Gansett. Guess you'd better go."
 The young man, having failed in every previous undertaking, was now more than ever cast down. He had congratulated upon having at last found some thing for which he was fitted, but he soon heard mutterings which warned him that he was not giving satisfaction. He did not seem to think that there could be the least objection to his turning to book when there were no customers de- manding his services. After receiving his discharge he went to his lodgings, where he found letter from his grand. parents urging him to come and live with them. Within an hour from the time of receiving the letter, young Can sett was on St. Louis and Iron Mountain railway train, rushing toward his new nome. A days ride in stage coach the journey. He was de- lighted with the old place. The Gansett farm was one of the best in the county, and the Gansetts were held in high es- .eem. The old house, part stone and part wood, was situated on hill near he river, and was surrounded by great rees. To the young man who had been 'o much knocked about, the old place oreathed promise of rest. At first he hardly knew how to take his frolicsome grandfather, but he was shrewd enough 70 see that the old man was a man of ex- :ellent sense and that notwithstanding ais prankish disposition, he was gentle and kind-hearted. Len had just re- turned from visit to Dogwood, a small village about two miles distant from he Gansett farm, when the old man asked him the question which opens the first chapter of this story.
 Lenqubees," said the old man, "you are pretty we'll put together, an don't nave no doubt but what you can make mule powerful tired in the course of day."
 "I prefer riding horse," the young man replied.
 "Oh, don't mean for you to ride the mule, but walk behind him, Hand me that pipe up there on the mantel-piece. Look out, don't knock of the cam6re Dottle."
 Len handed him the pipe, and when .he old man had filled it with tobacco he began carefully to pick up the crumbs which had fallen on his knee.
 "You pick up those crumbs as if you had not barn full of tobacco. You are surely rigid economist, and you make me think with regret of how used to squander my salary"
 "I never squandered cent of money ia my life," the old man rejoined. "I