“‘You’re wrong, Solomon,’ I answered.  ’You ought to have a home of your own and a wife to make you fond of it.  How is the Little Cricket?’

“‘Cunnin’est little shaver that ever lived,’ said he.  ’I got him a teeny waggin an’ drawed him down to the big medder an’ back.  He had a string hitched on to my waist an’ he pulled an’ hauled an’ hollered whoa an’ git ap till he were erbout as hoarse as a bull frog.  When we got back he wanted to go all over me with a curry comb an’ braid my mane.’

“The old scout roared with laughter as he thought of the child’s play in which he had had a part.  He told me of my own people and next to their good health it pleased me to learn that my father had given all his horses—­save two—­to Washington.  That is what all our good men are doing.  So you will see how it is that we are able to go on with this war against the great British empire.

“That night the idea came to me that I would seek an opportunity to return to France in the hope of finding you in Paris.  I applied for a short furlough to give me a chance to go home and see the family.  There I found a singular and disheartening situation.  My father’s modest fortune is now a part of the ruin of war.  Soon after the beginning of hostilities he had loaned his money to men who had gone into the business of furnishing supplies to the army.  He had loaned them dollars worth a hundred cents.  They are paying their debts to him in dollars worth less than five cents.  Many, and Washington among them, have suffered in a like manner.  My father has little left but his land, two horses, a yoke of oxen and a pair of slaves.  So I am too poor to give you a home in any degree worthy of you.

“Dear old Solomon has proposed to make me his heir, but now that he has met the likely womern I must not depend upon him.  So I have tried to make you know the truth about me as well as I do.  If your heart is equal to the discouragement I have heaped upon it I offer you this poor comfort.  When the war is over I can borrow a thousand pounds to keep a roof over our heads and a fowl in the pot and pudding in the twifflers while I am clearing the way to success.  The prospect is not inviting, I fear, but if, happily, it should appeal to you, I suggest that you join your father in New York at the first opportunity so that we may begin our life together as soon as the war ends.  And now, whatever comes, I would wish you to keep these thoughts of me:  I have loved you, but there are things which I have valued above my own happiness.  If I can not have you I shall have always the memory of the hours we have spent together and of the great hope that was mine.

“While I was at home the people of our neighborhood set out at daylight one morning for a pigeon party.  We had our breakfast on an island.  Then the ladies sat down to knit and sew, while the men went fishing.  In the afternoon we gathered berries and returned at dusk with filled pails and many fish.  So our people go to the great storehouse of Nature and help themselves.”