When Dr. Snell made his opening prayer, Joe thrust a Bible before me, open at the lesson of the evening, and then, rubbing his nose with embarrassment, fixed his eyes with timid assurance on the opposite wall.  Several of my Morgeson cousins were present, greeting me with sniffs.  But I was disappointed in Joe Bacon; how young and shabby he looked!  He wore a monkey jacket, probably a remnant of his sea-going father’s wardrobe.  He had done his best, however, for his hair was greased, and combed to a marble smoothness; its sleekness vexed me, not remembering at that moment the pains I had taken to dress my own hair, for a more ignoble end.

The girls gathered round me, after the class was dismissed; and when Dr. Snell came down from his desk, he said he was glad to see me, and that I must come to his rooms to look over the new books he had received.  Dr. Snell was no exception to the rule that a minister must not be a native among his own people.  His long residence in Surrey had failed to make him appear like one.  A bachelor, with a small private fortune, his style of living differed from the average of Congregational parsons.  His library was the only lion in our neighborhood.  His taste as a collector made him known abroad, and he had a reputation which was not dreamed of by his parishioners, who thought him queer and simple.  He loved old fashions; wore knee-breeches, and silver buckles in his shoes; brewed metheglin in his closet, and drank it from silver-pegged flagons; and kept diet bread on a salver to offer his visitors.  He lived near us on the north road, and was very much afraid of his landlady, Mrs. Grossman, who sat in terrible state in her parlor, the year through, wearing a black satin cloak and an awful structure of a cap, which had a potent nod.

I was pleased with Dr. Snell’s notice; his smile was courtly and his bow Grandisonian.

Joe Bacon was waiting at the foot of the stairs.  He obtruded his arm, and hoarsely muttered, “See you home.”  I took it, and we marched along silently, till we were beyond the sound of voices.  He began, rather inarticulately, to say how glad he was to see me, and that he hoped he was going to have better times now; but I could make no response to his wishes; the suspicion that he had a serious liking for me was disgusting.  As he talked on I grew irritable, and replied shortly.  When we reached our house, I slipped my hand from his arm, and ran up the steps, turning back with my hand on the door-knob to say, “Good-night.”  The lamp in the hall shone through the fanlight upon his face; it looked intelligent with pain.  I skipped down the steps.  “Please open the door, Joe.”  He brightened, but before he could comply with my request Temperance flung it wide, for the purpose of making a survey of the clouds and guessing at to-morrow’s weather.  His retreat was precipitate.

“Oh ho,” said Temperance, “a feller came home with you.  We shall have somebody sitting up a-Thursday nights, I reckon, before long.”