1853. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



133 



"Have you looked over your account, 'squire?" 



"No, not lately." 



"0, well, your books will tell, I suppose." 



"I believe I didn't put that on the book, (be 

 careful, Jerry, you have no book) but I made a 

 minute of it on a piece of paper. Do you remem- 

 ber any thing of a piece of bluish white paper, 

 with figures on it, motherV 



"I have seen several such pieces, and I will 

 bring them to you." Mrs. Lee left the room and 

 soon returned with a handful of bits of paper, 

 but the desirable one was not in tlie parcel ; the 

 cliildren were now called in — they had been hav- 

 ing a fine frolic with Aunt Fanny, removing an ox- 

 sled, which the last snow of March had left as an 

 ornament near the front door. "I wish you'd 



mind your I was going to move that myself," 



said Mr. Lee, with some impatience; he did not 

 say when, but he would have done it, I dare say, 

 the first good sledding. 



"Children, come in, and tell me if you have seen 

 anything of a piece of blueish-white paper round, 

 with figures on it. George, do you know any- 

 thing about it ?" 



"No, sir — but I will look where you say." 



"Well, take all the drawers out of the secreta- 

 ry, move ever3'tliing and see if it is there. Wil- 

 liam, you go and look in all the table drawers, 

 while I look in my pockets." The drawers were 

 emptied of their contents, and after, with much 

 satisfaction, spying all the wonders, the children 

 returned from their fruitless search. They final- 

 ly concluded that it was no where to be found. — 

 Fanny Lee thought she perceived a gleam of satis- 

 ftiction light up the half-shut grey eyes of the vis- 

 itor, as this conclusion was settled. 



"We must fix it the best way we can," said Mr. 

 Lee, as he took down pen and ink from the shelf. 



"I guess we can fix it," said Grey Eyes. "I cal- 

 culate to do what's right always." At this mo- 

 ment, to his great relief, Mr. L. remembered put- 

 ting some figures upon the cellar door, and those 

 might be the very ones ; he at once proceeded to 

 the door ; but wo to the housewife who erases 

 figures in house-cleaning — there were no traces of 

 chalk now. 



"What have you for a bill again^ me, Mr. 



"Why it amounts to eighty-four dollars." 



"Zounds! Mr. W., you are surely mistaken, 

 surely." 



"Well, well, you know you've something agin' 

 me that has got to come out on't." 



"Yes, yes, but how you can have charges against 

 me, to that amount, is more than I know." 



'Now Mr. W., just read over the various items, 

 as you have them." 



jNIr. Lee was perfectly sure many of these were 

 unjust, but as he had nothing to bring forward to 

 disprove the same, and as W. agreed with him on 

 his own side, he was not a little perplexed. 



"Wall, I guess you had better settle it now, 

 Mr. Lee — I am, you see, uncommon particular 

 about my business — keep things square and fair — 

 posted up, and always sure my dates are right." 



"les sir, but I have those very same charges of 

 yours, somewhere, on a piece of paper, and I am 

 ■positive, sir, you have charged me thirty dollars 

 more than you agreed. All I ask of you, sir, is to 

 let tlie matter rest where it is, until I find that 

 paper." 



"You see, Mr. Lee, just now I am fixed. I am 

 going away, and I felt obliged to leave my busi- 

 ness with a lawyer, but I hated to put to trou})le 

 an upright man like yourself, so I rode over fnjin 

 town a purpose, to save you from any hard feeling. 

 I want you to be satisfied." 



Mr. Lee was fully aware that he was now in the 

 hands of a "Shylock," but he had not a particle of 

 proof to bring against his demand. 



"I'll tell you what I'll do, Mr. L.— I'm short, 

 and must have the cash, but I shall be round here 

 about a week or so, and if you find your account, 

 bring it over fo me, and I'll pay you back the mo- 

 ney if I'm wrong ; ain't that fair enough, Mr Lee? 

 I call myself putty ginrous there !" 



Very reluctantly, Mr. Lee paid the demand, and 

 as his visitor was stepping into his wagon, he again 

 says— "A week hence if you find any flaw, I'll fix 

 it right for you — good-day sir." 



For. several days Mr. L.'s spare time was spent 

 in fruitless search for the paper, until one stormy 

 evening, he took from a peg in the kitchen an old 

 hat, which he had ceased wearing ; and there, 

 tucked away under the lining with several others 

 of considerable value for company, was the identi- 

 cal paper, soiled and worn, so as to be hardly 

 readable. 



It plainly proved, as Mr. Lee was before con- 

 vinced, that he had overpaid it by thirty dollars. 



Early the next morning he hastened to the vil- 

 lage to rectify matters with W. ; but true to hia 

 character, "Old Gray Eyes" left for the West, as 

 he intended, the very night he received the mo- 

 ney. 



He was, as Dickens says of Mr. Smallweed, "a 

 two-legged, money-getting, species of spider, who 

 spun webs to catch unwary flies, and retired into 

 holes until they were entrapped." Knowing the 

 careless business habits of Mr. Lee, he succeeded 

 in his purpose, with but slight difficulty. 



"I am unlucky," said Mr. Lee, as he returned 

 "but I will let it go, and say nothing about it." 



For a moment only, a tear glistened in Fanny 

 Lee's dark eye, as she gave the parting word and 

 kiss to her dearly beloved brother and his family. 



A week after Fanny's departure, a box arrived 

 containing presents for the children. 



"Why, what is this queer thing?" exclaimed 

 Billy, as his father was reading the letter. 



The "queer thing" was a neat mahogany writ- 

 ing desk, containing a day-book and ledger and 

 some little memorandums to be filled. 



"Why, this is father's present,'' said Mrs. Lee, 

 as she read the letter which her husband passed 

 to her while he examined the desk and its con- 

 tents. 



"This, my dear brother," said Fanny in the let- 

 ter, "this present, please accept, and if well used, 

 it may prove a sort of leather-patch upon your 

 pocket; and should a kind Providence permit me 

 to meet you and yours, years hence, may I find it 

 well filled." 



Six years — how rapidly do they pass, and_ yet 

 how many events may be crowded in a briefer 

 space of time. Six years have passed since Fanny 

 left the old homestead, and now a bright, blazing 

 fire burns on the hearth, and the family are seat- 

 ed round it, all but Mr. Lee and Fanny, Avho were 

 busy writing at a table, a little back. The chil- 



