It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford’s arrival in Pumpkin Hollow, resplendent in his new suit.  Joshua wouldn’t have changed places with the President of the United States on that day.  His old friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to his stories of mining life in California and his own wonderful exploits, which lost nothing in the telling.  He found his faithful Susan unmarried, and lost no time in renewing his suit.  He came, he saw, he conquered!

In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became the owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place among the prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow.  In a few years he was appointed justice of the peace, and became known as Squire Bickford.  It may be as well to state here, before taking leave of him, that his real estate investments in San Francisco proved fortunate, and in ten years he found himself worth ten thousand dollars.  This to Joshua was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a solid man in the town where he resides.

We now turn to Joe.

Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him.  Another boy had taken his place on Major Norton’s farm, but he was less reliable than Joe.

“I am out of patience with that boy.  I wish I had Joe back again.”

“Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?” inquired Oscar.

“Not a word.”

“I don’t believe he went to California at all.”

“In that case we should have heard from him.”

“No, Joe’s proud—­poor and proud!” said Oscar.  “I guess he’s wished himself back many a time, but he’s too proud to own it.”

“Joe was good to work,” said the major.

“He was too conceited.  He didn’t know his place.  He thought himself as good as me,” said Oscar arrogantly.

“Most people seemed to like Joe,” said the major candidly.

“I didn’t,” said Oscar, tossing his head.  “If he’d kept in his place and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along well enough with him.”

“I wish he would come back,” said the major.  “I would take him back.”

“I dare say he’s had a hard time and would be humbler now,” said Oscar.

At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward Joe entered.

He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in two or three places.  There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard usage.  He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition.

“How do you do, Joe?” said Major Norton cordially.  “I am glad to see you.”

Joe’s face lighted up.

“Thank you, sir,” he said.

“Shake hands, Joe.”

Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the gentleman about him.

Oscar held aloof.

“How do you do, Oscar?”