Lenny, looking down sheepishly, and with a heightened glow over his face.—­“Please, sir, that may come one of these days.”

Parson.—­“That’s right, Lenny.  Let me see! why you must be nearly a man.  How old are you?”

Lenny looks up inquiringly at his mother.

Parson.—­“You ought to know, Lenny, speak for yourself.  Hold your tongue, Mrs. Fairfield.”

Lenny, twirling his hat, and in great perplexity.—­“Well, and there is Flop, neighbor Dutton’s old sheep-dog.  He be very old now.”

Parson.—­“I am not asking Flop’s age, but your own.”

Lenny.-"’Deed, sir, I have heard say as how Flop and I were pups together.  That is, I—­I—­”

For the Parson is laughing, and so is Mrs. Fairfield; and the haymakers who have stood still to listen, are laughing too.  And poor Lenny has quite lost his head, and looks as if he would like to cry.

Parson, patting the curly locks, encouragingly.—­“Never mind; it is not so badly answered after all.  And how old is Flop?”

Lenny.—­“Why, he must be fifteen year and more.”

Parson.—­“How old, then, are you?”

Lenny, looking up with a beam of intelligence.—­“Fifteen year and more!”

Widow sighs and nods her head.

“That’s what we call putting two and two together,” said the Parson.  “Or, in other words,” and here be raised his eyes majestically toward the haymakers—­“in other words—­thanks to his love for his book—­simple as he stands here, Lenny Fairfield has shown himself capable of INDUCTIVE RATIOCINATION.”

At those words, delivered ore rotundo, the haymakers ceased laughing.  For even in lay matters they held the Parson to be an oracle, and words so long must have a great deal in them.

Lenny drew tip his head proudly.

“You are very fond of Flop, I suppose?”

“’Deed he is,” said the Widow, “and of all poor dumb creatures.”

“Very good.  Suppose, my lad, that you had a fine apple, and you met a friend who wanted it more than you; what would you do with it?”

“Please you, sir, I would give him half of it.”

The Parson’s face fell.—­“Not the whole, Lenny?”

Lenny considered.—­“If he was a friend, sir, he would not like me to give him all!”

“Upon my word, Master Leonard, you speak so well, that I must e’en tell the truth.  I brought you an apple, as a prize for good conduct in school.  But I met by the way a poor donkey, and some one beat him for eating a thistle; so I thought I would make it up by giving him the apple.  Ought I only to have given him the half?”

Lenny’s innocent face became all smile; his interest was aroused.  “And did the donkey like the apple?”

“Very much,” said the Parson, fumbling in his pocket, but thinking of Leonard Fairield’s years and understanding; and moreover, observing, in the pride of his heart, that here were many spectators to his deed, he thought the meditated twopence not sufficient, and he generously produced a silver sixpence.