The old school-master and his wife had hearts big and
warm enough to do the perpetual honours of a baronial castle; so
you may know how the little room and the faces about the homely
table glowed and brightened. Even Knowles began to think that
Holmes might not be so bad, after all, recalling the chicken in
the mill, and,--"Well, it was better to think well of all men,
poor devils!"
I am sorry to say there was a short thunderstorm in the very
midst of the dinner. Knowles and Mr. Howth, in their anxiety to
keep off from ancient subjects of dispute, came, for a wonder, on
modern politics, and of course there was a terrible collision,
which made Mrs. Howth quite breathless: it was over in a minute,
however, and it was hard to tell which was the most repentant.
Knowles, as you know, was a disciple of Garrison, and the old
school-master was a States'-rights man, as you might suppose from
his antecedents,--suspected, indeed, of being a contributor to
"DeBow's Review." I may as well come out with the whole truth,
and acknowledge that at the present writing the old gentleman is
the very hottest Secessionist I know. If it hurts the type,
write it down a vice of blood, O printers of New England!
The dinner, perhaps, was fresher and heartier after that. Then
Knowles went back to town; and in the middle of the afternoon, as
it grew dusk, Lois started, knowing how many would come into her
little shanty in the evening to wish her Happy Christmas,
although it was over.
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