STORY TWO, CHAPTER 1.
THE TRAVELLING TIN-MAN, FOUNDED ON FACT, BY MISS LESLIE.
Micajah Warner was owner and cultivator of a small farm in one of theoldest, most fertile, and most beautiful counties of the State ofPennsylvania, not far from Maryland line. Micajah was a plain Quaker,and a man of quiet and primitive habits. He was totally devoid of allambitious cravings after tracts of ten thousand acres, and he aspirednot to the honour and glory of having his name given to a town in thewestern wilderness (though Warnerville would not have sounded badly),neither was he possessed of an unconquerable desire of becoming a judge,or of going to Congress. Therefore, he had always been able to resistthe persuasions and example of those of his neighbours who left the homeof their fathers, and the comforts of an old settlement, to seek a lesstedious road to wealth and consequence, on the other side of theAllegany. He was satisfied with the possession of two hundred acres,one half of which he had lent (not given) to his son Israel, whoexpected shortly to be married to a very pretty and notable young womanin the neighbourhood, who was, however, no heiress. Upon this event,Israel was to be established in an old frame-house that had long sincebeen abandoned by his father in favour of the substantial stone dwellingwhich the family occupied at the period of our story. The house hadbeen taken up and transplanted to that part of the farm now allotted toIsrael, and he very prudently deferred repairing it till he saw whetherit survived its progress across the domain. But as it did not fallasunder during the journey, it was judged worthy of a new front-door,new window-panes, and new shingles to cover the vast chasms of the roof,all which improvements were made by Israel's own hands. This house wasdeposited in the vicinity of the upper branch of the creek, andconveniently near to a saw-mill, which had been built by Israel inperson.
Like all of her sect, whether in town or country, Bulah, the wife ofMicajah Warner, was a woman of even temper, untiring industry, and greatskill in housewifery.
Her daughters, commonly called Amy and Orphy, were neat pretty littleQuaker girls, extremely alert, and accustomed from their earliestchildhood to assist in the work of the house. As her daughters were sohandy and industrious, and only went half the year to school, MrsWarner did not think it necessary to keep any other help than anindentured negro girl, named Chloe.
Except the marriage of Israel, which was now in prospect; a flood in theneighbouring creek, which had raised the water so high as to wash awaythe brick oven from the side of the house; a tornado that carried offthe roof of the old stable, and landed it whole in an adjoining cloverfield; and a visit from a family of beggars (an extraordinary phenomenonin the country), nothing occurred among the Warners for a longsuccession of years that had occasioned more than a month's talk of themother, and a month's listening of the children.
"They kept the noiseless tenor of their way."
The occupations of Israel and his father (assisted occasionally by a fewhired men) were, of course, those of the farm, except when Israel took aday now and then to attend to his saw-mill. With regard to domesticarrangements, everything connected with household affairs went on in thesame course year after year except that, as the daughters of the familyimproved in capability of work, Chloe the black girl, retrograded. Theywashed on Monday (with the assistance of a woman, hired for the day),ironed on Tuesday, performed what they called "the little baking" onWednesday, and "the big baking" on Friday; cleaned the house onSaturday, and clear-starched their book-muslin collars; rode onhorseback to Friends' meeting on Sunday morning, and visited theirneighbours on Sunday afternoon.
It was the day after the one on which Israel and his bride-elect hadpassed meeting, and consequently, a month before the one fixed for thewedding, that something like an adventure fell among the Warner family.
It was a beautiful evening at the close of August. The father and sonhad been all day in the meadows, mowing the second crop of grass; MrsWarner was darning stockings in the porch, with her two daughtersknitting on the bench beside her; Amy being then fourteen, and Orphyabout twelve. Chloe was absent, having been borrowed by a relation,about five miles off, to do the general work of the house, while thefamily were engaged in preparing for a quilting frolic.
"Come, girls," said Mrs Warner to her daughter, "it's just sun-down.The geese are coming home, and daddy and Israel will soon be here. Amy,do thee go down to the spring-house, and bring up the milk and butter,and Orphy, thee can set the table."
The two girls put up their knitting (not, however, till they had knit tothe middle of the needle), and in a short time, Amy was seen coming backfrom the spring-house, with a large pitcher of milk and a plate ofbutter. In the meantime, Orphy had drawn out the ponderous claw-footedwalnut table that stood all summer in the porch, and spreading over it abrown linen cloth, placed in regular order their everyday supperequipage of pewter plates, earthen porringers, and iron spoons.
The viands consisted of an immense round loaf of bread, nearly as largeas a grindstone, and made of wheat and Indian meal, the half of a hugecheese, a piece of cold pork, a peach pie, an apple pie, and, as it hadbeen baking day, there was the customary addition of a rice pudding, inan earthen pan of stupendous size. The last finish of the decorationsof the table was a large bowl of cool water, placed near the seatoccupied by the father of the family, who never could begin any of hismeals without a copious draught of the pure element.
In a few minutes, the farmer and his son made their appearance as theyturned the angle of the peach-orchard fence, preceded by the geese,their usual _avant-couriers_, who went out every morning to feed in anold field beyond the meadows.
As soon as Micajah and Israel had hung up their scythes and washedthemselves at the pump, they sat down to table, the farmer in his ownblue-painted, high-backed, high-armed chair, and Israel taking the seatalways allotted to him--a low chair, the rushes of which having longsince deserted the bottom, had been replaced by cross pieces of clothlisting, ingeniously interwoven with each other; and this being,according to the general opinion, the worst seat in the house, alwaysfell to the share of the young man, who was usually passive on alloccasions, and never seemed to consider himself entitled to the sameaccommodation as the rest of the family.
Suddenly, the shrill blast of a tin trumpet resounded through the woods,that covered the hill in front of the house, to the great disturbance ofthe geese, who had settled themselves quietly for the night in theirusual bivouac around the ruins of an old waggon. The Warners ceasedtheir supper to listen and look; and they saw emerging from the woods,and rolling down the hill at a brisk trot, the cart of one of thoseitinerant tin merchants, who originate in New England, and travel fromone end of the Union to the other, avoiding the cities, and seekingcustomers amongst the country people; who, besides buying their ware,always invite them to a meal and a bed.
The tinman came blowing his horn to the steps of the porch, and therestopping his cart, addressed the farmer's wife in the true nasal twangthat characterises the lower class of New Englanders, and inquired "ifshe had any notion of a bargain."
She replied that "she believed she had no occasion for anything"--hercustomary answer to all such questions.
But Israel, who looked into futurity, and entertained views towards hisown housekeeping, stepped forward to the tin-cart, and began to takedown and examine various mugs, pans, kettles, and coffee-pots--thelatter particularly, as he had a passion for coffee, which he secretlydetermined to indulge both morning and evening, as soon as he wassettled in his domicile.
"Mother," said Amy, "I do wish thee would buy a new coffee-pot, for ourshas been leaking all summer, and I have to stop it every morning withrye-meal. Thee knows we can give the old one to Israel."
"To be sure," replied Mrs Warner, "it will do well enough for youngbeginners. But I cannot say I feel quite free to buy a new coffee-potat this time. I must consider about it."
"And there's the cullender," said Orphy, "it has such a big crack at thebottom, that when I am smashing the squashes for dinner, not only th
ewater, but the squashes themselves drip through. Better give it toIsrael, and get a new one for ourselves. What's this?" she continued,taking up a tin water-dipper.
"That is for dipping warter out of the bucket," replied the tinman.
"Oh, yes," cried Amy, "I've seen such a one at Rachel Johnson's. What aclever thing it is, with a good long handle, so that there's no dangerof splashing the water on our clothes. Do buy it, mother. Thee knowsthat Israel can have the big calabash: I patched it myself, yesterday,where it was broken, and bound the edge with new tape, and it's now asgood as ever."
"I don't know," said the farmer, "that we want anything but a newlantern; for ours had the socket burnt out long before these moonlightnights, and it's dangerous work taking a candle into the stable."
The tinman knowing that our plain old farmers, though extremely liberalof everything that is produced on their plantations, are, frequently,very tenacious of coin, and much averse to parting with actual money,recommended his wares more on account of their cheapness than theirgoodness; and, in fact, the price of most of the articles was two orthree cents lower than they could be purchased for at the stores.
Old Micajah thought there was no actual necessity for anything exceptthe lantern; but his daughters were so importunate for the coffee-pot,the cullender, and the water-dipper, that finally all three werepurchased and paid for. The tinman in vain endeavoured to prevail onMrs Warner to buy some patty-pans, which the girls looked at withlonging eyes; and he reminded them how pretty the pumpkin pies wouldlook at their next quilting, baked in scollop-edged tins. But thispurchase was peremptorily refused by the good Quaker woman, allegingthat scollop-edged pies were all pride and vanity, and that, if properlymade, they were quite good enough baked in round plates.
The travelling merchant then produced divers boxes and phials of quackmedicines, prepared at a celebrated manufactory of those articles, andduly sealed with the maker's own seal, and inscribed with his name inhis own handwriting. Amongst these, he said, "there were certain curesfor every complaint in natur'--draps for the agur, the toothache, andthe rhumatiz; salves for ringworms, corns, frostbitten heels, and soreeyes; and pills for consumption and fall fevers; beside that mostvaluable of all physic, Swain's Wormifuge."
The young people exclaimed with one accord against the purchase of anyof the medicines; and business being over, the tinman was invited by thefarmer to sit down and take his supper with the family--an invitation asfreely accepted as given.
The twilight was now closing, but the full moon had risen, and affordedsufficient light for the supper table in the porch. The tinman took aseat, and before Mrs Warner had finished her usual invitation tostrangers, of--"reach to, and help thyself; we are poor hands atinviting, but thee's welcome to it, such as it is"--he had already cuthimself a huge piece of the cold pork, and an enormous slice of bread.He next poured out a porringer of milk, to which he afterwards addedone-third of the peach pie, and several platesful of rice pudding. Hethen said, "I suppose you haven't got no cider about the house;" andIsrael, at his father's request, immediately brought up a pitcher ofthat liquor from the cellar.
During supper the tinman entertained his entertainers with anecdotes ofthe roguery of his own countrymen, or rather, as he called them, his"statesmen." In his opinion of their general dishonesty, Mrs Warnermost cordially joined. She related a story of an itinerant Yankee whopersuaded her to empty some of her pillows and bolsters, under colour ofexchanging with him old feathers for new; a thing which she acknowledgedhad puzzled her not a little, as she thought it strange that any manshould bargain so badly for himself. He produced from his cart a bag offeathers which he declared were quite new; but after his departure shefound that he had given her such short measure that she had not halfenough to fill her ticking, and most of the feathers were proved, uponexamination, to have belonged to chickens rather than to geese--nearly awhole cock's tail having been found amongst them.
The farmer pointed into the open door of the house, and showed thetinman a large wooden clock put up without a case between two windows,the pendulum and the weights being "exposed and bare." This clock hehad bought for ten dollars of a travelling Yankee, who had set out tosupply the country with machines. It had only kept tolerable time forabout two months, and had ever since been getting faster and faster,though it was still faithfully wound up every week. The hands were nowgoing merrily round at the rate of ten miles an hour, and it neverstruck less than twelve.
The Yankee tinman, with a candour that excited the admiration of thewhole family, acknowledged that his Statesmen were the greatest rogues"on the face of the yearth;" and recounted instances of their trickerythat would have startled the belief of any but the inexperienced andcredulous people who were now listening to him. He told, for example,of sausages being brought to market in an eastern town, that, whenpurchased and prepared for frying, were found to be filled with choppedturnip and shreds of red flannel.
For once, thought the Warners, we have found an honest Yankee.
They sat a long time at table, and though the tinman seemed to talk allthe time he was eating, the quantity of victuals that he caused todisappear surprised even Mrs Warner, accustomed as she was to theappetite of Israel. When the Yankee had at last completed his supper,the farmer invited him to stay all night; but he replied, "It wasmoonshiny, and fine cool travelling after a warm day; he preferredputting on towards Maryland as soon as his creature was rested, and hada feed."
He then, without more ceremony, led his horse and cart into thebarn-yard, and stopping near the stable door, fed the animal by thelight of the moon, and carried him a bucket of water from the pump.
The girls being reminded by their mother that it was late, and that thecows had long since come home, they took their pails and went out tomilk, while she washed up the supper things. Whilst they were milking,the subsequent dialogue took place between them:--
_Orphy_. I know it's not right to notice strangers, and to be sure theman's welcome, but, Amy, did thee ever see anybody take victuals likethis Yankee?
_Amy_. Yes, but he didn't eat all he took, for I saw him slip a greatchunk of bread and cheese into his pocket, and then a big piece of pie,while he was talking and making us laugh.
_Orphy_. Well, I think a man must be very badly off to do such a thing.I wonder he did not ask for victuals to take away with him. He neednot have been afraid. He must know that victuals is no object. Andthen he has travelled the roads long enough to be sure that he can get ameal for nothing at any house he stops at, as all the tinmen do. Hemust have seen us looking at his eating so much, and may be his pride ishurt, and so he's made up his mind, all of a sudden, to take his mealsno more at people's houses.
_Amy_. Then why can't he stop at a tavern, and pay for his victuals?
_Orphy_. May be he don't want to spend his money in that trifling way.Who knows, he may be saving it up to help an old mother, or to buy backland, or something of that sort? I'll be bound he calculates uponeating nothing to-morrow but what he slipped off from our table.
_Amy_. All he took will not last him a day. It's a pity of him,anyhow.
_Orphy_. I wish he had not been too bashful to ask for victuals to takewith him.
_Amy_. And still he did not strike me at all as a bashful man.
_Orphy_. Suppose we were just in a private way to put some victualsinto his cart for him, without letting him know anything about it!Let's hide it among the tins, and how glad he'll be when he finds itto-morrow!
_Amy_. So we will; that's an excellent notion! I never pitied anybodyso much since the day the beggars came, which was five years ago lastharvest; for I have kept count ever since; and I remember it as well asif it was yesterday.
_Orphy_. We don't know what a hard thing it is to want victuals, as theIrish schoolmaster used to tell us when he saw us emptying pans of milkinto the pig-trough, and turning the cows into the orchard to eat theheaps of apples lying under the trees.
_Amy_. Yes, and it must
be worse for an American to want victuals thanfor people from the old countries, who are used to it.
After they had finished their milking, and strained and put away theirmilk, the kind-hearted little girls proceeded to accomplish theirbenevolent purpose. They took from the large wire safe in the cellar apie, half a loaf of bread, and a great piece of cheese, and putting theminto a basket, they went to the barn-yard, intending to tell theirmother as soon as the tinman was gone, and not for one moment doubtingher approval--since in the house of an American farmer, victuals, asOrphy justly observed, are no object.
As they approached the barn-yard they saw, by the light of the moon, theYankee coming away from his cart, and returning to the house. The girlscrouched down behind the garden fence till he had passed, and thencautiously proceeded on their errand. They went to the back of thecart, intending to deposit their provisions, when they were startled atseeing something evidently alive moving behind the round opening of thelinen cover; and in a moment the head of a little black child peeped outof the hole.
The girls were so surprised that they stopped short and could not uttera word, and the young negro, evidently afraid of being seen, immediatelypopped down its head among the tins.
"Amy, did thee see that?" asked Orphy in a low voice.
"Yes, I did so," replied Amy; "what can the Yankee be doing with thatlittle nigger? and why does he hide it? Let's go and ask the child."
"No, no!" exclaimed Orphy, "the tinman will be angry."
"And who cares if he is?" said Amy; "he has done something he is ashamedof, and we need not be afraid of him."
They went quite close to the back of the cart, and Amy said, "Here,little snow-ball, show thyself and speak, and do not be afraid, fornobody's going to hurt thee."
"How did thee come into this cart?" asked Orphy, "and why does theYankee hide thee? Tell us all about it, and be sure not to speak abovethy breath."
The black child again peeped out of the hole, and looking cautiouslyround, said, "Are you quite sure the naughty man won't hear us?"
"Quite sure," answered Amy; "but is thee boy or girl?"
"I'm a little gal," replied the child; and with the characteristicvolubility of her race she continued, "and my name's Dinah, and I'm fiveyears old, and my daddy and mammy are free coloured people, and theylives a big piece off, and daddy works out, and mammy sells gingerbreadand molasses-beer, and we have a sign over the door with a bottle andcake on it."
_Amy_. But how did this man get hold of thee, if thy father and motherare free people? Thee can't be bound to him, or he need not hide thee.
_Dinah_. Oh, I know, I ain't bounded to him; I expect he stole me.
_Amy_. Stole thee! What, here in the free state of Pennsylvania?
_Dinah_. I was out picking huckle-berries in the woods up the roads,and I strayed off a big piece from home. Then the tinman comed along,driving his cart, and I run close to the side of the road to look, as Ialways does when anybody goes by. So he told me to come into his cart,and he would give me a tin mug to put my huckle-berries in, and I mightchuse it myself, and it would hold them a heap better than my old Indianbasket. So I was very glad, and he lifted me up into the cart; and Ichoosed the very best and biggest tin mug he had, and emptied myhuckle-berries into it. And then he told me he'd give me a ride in hiscart, and then he set me far back on a box, and he whipped his creatur,and druv, and druv, and jolted me so, I tumbled all down among the tins.And then he picked me up, and tied me fast with his handkercher to oneof the back posts of the cart, to keep me steady, he said. And then,for all I was steady, I couldn't help crying, and I wanted him to takeme home to daddy and mammy. But he only sniggered at me, and said hewouldn't, and bid me hush; and then he got mad, and because I couldn'thush up just in a minute, he whipped me quite smart.
_Orphy_. Poor little thing!
_Dinah_. And then I got frightened, for he put on a wicked look, andsaid he'd kill me dead if I cried any more, or made the least noise.And so he has been carrying me along in his cart for two days and twonights, and he makes me hide away all the time, and he won't let nobodysee me. And I hate him, and yesterday, when I know'd he didn't see me,I spit on the crown of his hat.
_Amy_. Hush! Thee must never say thee hates anybody.
_Dinah_. At night I sleeps upon the bag of feathers; and when he stopsanywhere to eat, he comes sneaking to the back of the cart, and pokes invictuals (he has just now brung me some), and he tells me he wants me tobe fat and good-looking. I was afeard he was going to sell me to thebutcher, as Nac Willet did his fat calf, and I thought I'd axe him aboutit, and he laughed and told me he was going to sell me, sure enough, butnot to a butcher. And I'm almost all the time very sorry, onlysometimes I'm not; and then I should like to play with the tins, only hewon't let me. I don't dare to cry out loud, for fear the naughty manwould whip me, but I always moan when we're going through woods, andthere's nobody in sight to hear me. He never lets me look out of theback of the cart, only when there's nobody to see me, and he won't letme sing even when I want to. And I moan most when I think of daddy andmammy, and how they are wondering what has become of me; and I thinkmoaning does me good, only he stops me short.
_Amy_. Now, Orphy, what is to be done? The tinman has, of course,kidnapped this black child to take her into Maryland, where he can sellher for a good price, as she is a fat, healthy-looking thing, and thatis a slave state. Does thee think we ought to let him take her off.
_Orphy_. No, indeed! I think I could feel free to fight for hermyself; that is, if fighting was not forbidden by Friends. Yonder'sIsrael coming to turn the cows into the clover-field. Little girl, liequiet, and don't offer to show thyself.
Israel now advanced--"Well, girls," said he, "what's thee doing at thetinman's cart? Not meddling among his tins, I hope? Oh, the curiosityof women folks!"
"Israel," said Amy, "step softly; we have something to show thee."
The girls then lifted up the corner of the cart-cover, and displayed thelittle negro girl, crouched upon the bag of feathers--a part of hismerchandise which the Yankee had not thought it expedient to produce,after hearing Mrs Warner's anecdote of one of his predecessors. Theyoung man was much amazed; and his two sisters began both at once torelate to him the story of the black child. Israel looked almostindignant. His sisters said to him, "To be sure we won't let the Yankeecarry this child off with, him."
"I judge we won't," answered Israel.
"Then," said Amy, "let us take her out of the cart, and hide her in thebarn, or somewhere, till he is gone."
"No," replied Israel, "I can't say I feel free to do that. It would betoo much like stealing her over again; and I've no notion of eveningmyself to a Yankee in any of his ways. Put her down in the cart, andlet her alone. I'll have no underhand work about her. Let's all goback to the house. Mother has got down all the broken crockery from thetop shelf in the corner cupboard, and the Yankee's mending it with asort of stuff like sticks of sealing-wax, that he carries about withhim; and I dare say he'll get her to pay him more for it than the thingsare worth. But I say nothing."
The girls cautioned Dinah not to let the tinman know that they haddiscovered her, and to keep herself perfectly quiet; and they thenaccompanied their brother to the house, feeling very fidgety and uneasy.
They found the table covered with old bowls, old tea-pots, old sugardishes, and old pitchers, the fractures of which the Yankee wascementing together, whilst Mrs Warner held the candle, and her husbandviewed the operation with great curiosity.
"Israel," said his mother, as he entered, "this friend is making thechina as good as new, only that we can't help seeing the join; and weare going to give all the mended things to thee."
The Yankee having finished his work, and been paid for it, said it washigh time for him to be about starting, and he must go and look afterhis cart. He accordingly left the house for that purpose; and Israel,looking out at the end window, said, "I see he's not coming round to thehouse again, but g
oing to try the short-cut into the back road. I'll goand see that he puts up the bars after him."
Israel went out, and his sisters followed him, to see the tinman off.
The Yankee came to the bars, leading his horse with the cart, and foundIsrael there before him. "Are you going to let down the bars for me?"said the tinman.
"No," replied Israel, "I'm not going to be so polite; but I intend tosee that thee carries off nothing more than belongs to thee."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed the Yankee, changing colour.
"I expect I can show thee," answered Israel. Then, stepping up to theback of the cart, and putting in his hands, he pulled out the blackchild, and held her up before him, saying, "Now, if thee offers to touchthis girl, I think we shall be apt to differ."
The tinman then advanced towards Israel, and, with a menacing look,raised his whip; but the fearless young Quaker (having consigned thelittle girl to his sisters, who held her between them) immediately brokea stick from a tree that grew near, and stood on the defensive, with amost steadfast look of calm resolution.
The Yankee went close up to him, brandishing his whip, but, before hehad time to strike, Israel, with the utmost coolness, and with greatstrength and dexterity, seized him by the collar, and swinging him roundto some distance, flung him to the ground with such force as to stunhim, saying, "Mind I don't call myself a fighting character, but if theeoffers to get up I shall feel free to keep thee down."
The tinman began to move, and the girls ran shrieking to the house fortheir father, dragging with them the little black girl, whose screams(as is usual with all of her colour) were the loudest of the loud.
In an instant the stout old farmer was at the side of his son, andnotwithstanding the struggle of the Yankee, they succeeded by main forcein conveying him to the stable, into which they fastened him for thenight.
Early next morning, Israel and his father went to the nearest magistratefor a warrant and a constable, and were followed home by half thetownship. The county court was then in session; the tinman was tried,and convicted of having kidnapped a free black child, with the design ofselling her as a slave in one of the Southern States; and he waspunished by fine and imprisonment.
The Warner family would have felt more compassion for him than they did,only that all the mended china fell to pieces again the next day, andhis tins were so badly soldered that all their bottoms came out beforethe end of the month.
Mrs Warner declared that she had done with Yankee tinmen for ever, andin short with all other Yankees. But the storekeeper, Philip Thompson,who was the sensible man of the neighbourhood, and took two Philadelphianewspapers, convinced her that some of the best and greatest men Americacan boast of, were natives of the New England States; and he evenasserted, that in the course of his life (and his age did not exceedsixty-seven) he had met with no less than five perfectly honest Yankeetinmen; and besides being honest, two of them were not in the leastimpudent. Amongst the latter, however, he did not of course include avery handsome fellow, that a few years since made the tour of the UnitedStates with his tin-cart, calling himself the Boston Beauty, and wearinghis own miniature round his neck.
To conclude:--An advertisement having been inserted in several of thepapers to designate where Dinah, the little black girl, was to be found,and the tinman's trial having also been noticed in the public prints, inabout a fortnight her father and mother (two very decent free negroes)arrived to claim her, having walked all the way from their cottage atthe extremity of the next county. They immediately identified her, andthe meeting was most joyful to them and to her. They told at fulllength every particular of their anxious search after their child, whichwas ended by a gentleman bringing a newspaper to their house, containingthe welcome intelligence that she was safe at Micajah Warner's.
Amy and Orphy were desirous of retaining little Dinah in the family, andas the child's parents seemed very willing, the girls urged their motherto keep her instead of Chloe, who, they said, could very easily be madeover to Israel. But to the astonishment of the whole family, Israel onthis occasion proved refractory, declaring that he would not allow hiswife to be plagued with such an imp as Chloe, and that he chose to havelittle Dinah herself, if her parents would bind her to him till she waseighteen.
This affair was soon satisfactorily arranged.
Israel was married at the appointed time, and took possession of thehouse near the saw-mill. He prospered; and in a few years was able tobuy a farm of his own, and to build a stone-house on it. Dinah turnedout extremely well, and the Warner family still talk of the night whenshe was discovered in the cart of the travelling tinman.