said I, till I get a top on it and cut him down; so I soon released him but he could’nt walk a bit.  His ankle was swelled and sprained like vengeance, and he swore one leg was near about six inches longer than tother.  Jim Munroe, says father, little did I think I should ever see you inside my door agin, but I bid you enter now, we owe you that kindness, any how.  Well, to make a long story short, Jim was so chap fallen, and so down in the mouth, he begged for heaven’s sake it might be kept a secret; he said he would run the state, if ever it got wind, he was sure he could’nt stand it.  It will be one while, I guess, said father, afore you are able to run or stand either; but if you will give me your hand, Jim, and promise to give over your evil ways, I will not only keep it secret, but you shall be a welcome guest at old Sam Slick’s once more, for the sake of your father—­he was a brave man, one of the heroes of Bunker’s hill, he was our Sergeant and —–.  He promises, says I, father, (for the old man had stuck his right foot out, the way he always stood when he told about the old war; and as Jim could’nt stir a peg, it was a grand chance, and he was a goin to give him the whole revolution from General Gage up to Independence,) he promises, says I, father.  Well it was all settled, and things soon grew as calm as a pan of milk two days old; and afore a year was over, Jim was as steady a goin man as Minister Joshua Hopewell, and was married to our Sall.  Nothin was ever said about the snare till arter the weddin.  When the Minister had finished axin a blessin, father goes up to Jim, and says he, Jim Munroe, my boy, givin him a rousin slap on the shoulder that sot him a coughin for the matter of five minutes, (for he was a mortal powerful man, was father) Jim Munroe, my boy, says he, you’ve got the snare round your neck, I guess now, instead of your leg; the Saplin has been a father to you, may you be the father of many saplins.

We had a most special time of it, you may depend, all except the minister; father got him into a corner, and gave him chapter and verse for the whole war.  Every now and then as I come near them, I heard “Bunker’s Hill, Brandywine, Clinton, Gates,” and so on.  It was broad day when we parted, and the last that went was poor minister.  Father followed him clean down to the gate, and says he, “minister, we had’nt time this hitch, or I’d a told you all about the ‘EVAKYATION’ of New York, but I’ll tell you that the next time we meet.”

No.  XXI

Setting up for Governor.