Adams?” “I can’t answer that question just yet,” said my uncle, reflectively.  “I think we’d better all have a night’s sleep before we say any more about it.”  They felt in duty bound to reply to the letter, but what reply to make was an unsettled question for several days.  They were aware that, for all their cousin’s professed willingness to work, the care of his family would in all probability devolve upon them, for some time at any rate.  But Grandma Adams had tenderly loved her brother, Silas’ father, and at length by her advice a favourable reply was written.  “I can tell, you one thing,” said Aunt Lucinda, after the letter was sent away, “I cannot, and will not have Silas Stinson’s family move in here, for if he has no more method in governing his children than in other things we might as well have as many young Indians right out of the Penobscot Tribe brought into the house.  I am willing to help them as far as I can, but bringing them into the house is out of the question.”  “I’ll tell you what you can do, Nathan,” said grandma, “you know there’s an old house on that piece of land you bought of Squire Taylor last fall, and you just fix it up as well as you can, and let them live in it this summer, and by the time another winter comes you can see further about it; perhaps by keeping round with Silas you may get some work out of him on the farm this summer, and his family must have a home of some kind.  Providence has been very kind to us, and we must lend them a helping hand.”  “I dare say,” replied my aunt, in her usual sharp manner, “that Providence has done as much for Cousin Silas as for us, only while we have toiled early and late, he has been whiffling about from one thing to another, trying to find some way to live without work; but I guess he’ll learn before he’s done that he’ll have to work for a living like other people.  But I suppose, Nathan as they’ve got to come you’d better see about fixing up that old house right away.  If there was only himself and wife, I’d try and put up with them here for a while, but with their five wild tearing children—­it makes me shudder to think of it!”

When the matter of Cousin Silas’ removal to Canada became a settled thing it appeared less terrible than upon first consideration.  April arrived, bringing it’s busy season of sugar-making, and it’s mixture of sunshine and showers.  Amid the hurry of work Uncle Nathan found time to give some attention to the matter of repairing the house, for the reception of the expected new-comers.  Aunt Lucinda said she supposed her mother was right, and it was their duty to extend a helping hand to Cousin Silas, but at the same time it appeared to her that the path of duty really did have a great many difficult places, and she supposed as we could not go round about them we must keep straight forward and get over the hard places as well as we could.  Preparations went on apace, and before the last of April the repairs on the house were completed.  I was still studying hard, expecting this to be my