“Why, are you the post?”

“Don’t you think that two sealed letters, now, would be worth a leetle box o’ that ’ere?”

“Have you brought letters from the boys?”

“Well I don’t know who writ ’em,” said Mr. Underhill; —­ “they guv ’em to me.”

Mr. Landholm took the letters, and with a very willing face went for a ‘little box,’ which he filled with the Mannahatta tobacco.

“Old Cowslip don’t keep anything like this,” Mr. Underhill said as he received it and stowed it coolly away in his pocket.  “I mean to shew it to him.”

“Will you stay to dinner, neighbour?”

“No thank ’ee —­ I’ve got to get over the river; and my little woman’ll have something cooked for me; and if I wa’n’t there to eat it I shouldn’t hear the last of my wastefulness.”

“Ay? is that the way she does?” said Mr. Landholm laughing.

“Something like it.  A tight grip, I tell ye!”

And with these words Mr. Underhill took himself out of the house.

“Where’s your mother, Asahel? call her and tell her what’s here,” said Mr. Landholm, as he broke one of the seals.

“Shagarack, Dec. 3, 1810.

“My dear parents,

“I take the opportunity of friend Underhill’s going home to send you a word —­ I can’t write much more than a word, I’m so busy.  I never drove my plough at home half so industriously as now I am trying to break up and sow the barren fields of mind.  But oh, this is sweeter labour than that.  How shall I ever repay you, my dear father and dear mother, for the efforts you are making —­ and enduring —­ to give me this blessing.  I feel them to my very heart —­ I know them much better than from your words.  And perhaps this poor return of words is all I shall ever be able to make you, —­ when it seems to me sometimes as if I could spill my very heart to thank you.  But if success can thank you, you shall be thanked.  I feel that within me which says I shall have it.  Tell mother the box came safe, and was gladly received.  The socks &c. are as nice as possible, and very comfortable this weather; and the mittens, tell Winnie, are like no other mittens that ever were knit; but I wish I could have hold of the dear little hands that knit them for a minute instead —­ she knows what would come next.

“You bid me say if I want anything —­ sometimes I think I want nothing but to hear from you a little oftener —­ or to see you! —­ that would be too pleasant.  But I am doing very well, though I do want to know that ma is not working so hard.  I shall relieve pa from any further charge of me after this.  I consulted the President; and he has given me a form in the grammar school to take care of —­ I believe pa knows there is a grammar school connected with the Institution.  This will pay my bills, and to my great joy relieve my father from doing so any more.  This arrangement leaves me but half of the usual study hours (by day) for myself; so you see I have not much leisure to write letters, and must close.