coat of the beast and the faded calico dress of the woman; between his lustrous, flashing eyes and hers, dull and sad; between his bounding feet and hers, which moved about heavily; between the whole spirit of Montravers and that of Mrs. Smead. I saw, too, the contrast between the splendid trappings of the stallion and the patched trousers of the boys. I wondered how the boys were going to be cooled off. They simply took a hurried wash in a tin basin at the back door and sat down at the table in damp clothes. We could hear timid remarks in the kitchen about a worthless horse, about boys who would be late to school, and the delayed work of the day.     

       “If that hoss could only keep up with my imagination!” said Smead, mournfully.     

       “Dan'l, you must take care of the horse yourself in the morning,” said Mrs. Smead.     

       “But my imagination keeps me so busy, mother,” said he. “Montravers works it night an' day. It don't give me any sleep, thinkin' o' the wealth that's just ahead of us. It pants with weariness. Almost every night I dream of tossin' a whole basket of gold into my wife's lap an' sayin',       'There, mother, it's yours; do as you like with it.'”      

       She made no reply. That gold-tossing had revived her hope a little and pacified her for the moment.     

       Such was a sample day in the life of the Smeads when Dan'l Webster was at home. Every night and morning the boys were helping father by rubbing the legs and body of the stallion. I soon acquired the habit, partly because I admired the splendid animal, partly to help the boys. I had never rubbed a horse's legs before, and it appealed to me as a new form of dissipation.     

       We were all helping father while the mother worked along from dawn till we had all gone to our beds—all save the head of the house. He spent his evenings reading, or in the company of the horsemen at the Palace Hotel.     

       I was now deeply interested in my school work. One night I had sat late with my problems in algebra, and lay awake for hours after I went to bed. The clock struck twelve, and still I could hear Mrs. Smead rocking as she sewed downstairs. By and by there were sounds of Mr. Smead entering the front door. Then I heard her say: “Dan'l, you promised me not to do this       

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