“And I rather think,” he continued, “that he got his pay for his work, as he expected to, in what he took from the land. I never saw better corn and wheat, let alone the potatoes and the pumpkins that he raised on that river bottom; and as to the rails, they belong where he took them from, that eighty-acre lot that he robbed and impoverished, 133 tilling the soil in the summer, and cutting down the best trees in the winter, and working what he didn’t care about into rails; and now he turns around,–after having skimmed your milk, when he had plenty of his own,–and tells you, as a Christian brother, that you orter pay him for taking off the cream, and making butter of it for his own table. May I ask what he charged you for the operation?”
“He asked,” said the minister, “eighty dollars, but concluded to take thirty.”
“And when you form your church you’ll choose him first deacon–won’t you?” said the squatter, sneeringly.
“Neighbor Jones,” said the minister, quietly, “I find that Mr. Smith’s character is pretty well understood among the settlers. From all I can learn, I judge that he has never been a member of a church, but is one of a too large class, who try to palm themselves off on religious people, that they may the better carry out their own wicked and selfish ends. I did not pay him the thirty dollars because he had a right to ask it of me, but because I had rather sacrifice something than to expose the spiritual welfare of this people by giving an occasion for a quarrel, however unjustly; and, mark me, the time will come when that money, small as the amount is, will be a burden to the conscience of that man. But,” he 134 added, suddenly changing the subject, “we expect to have a raising on my lot day after to-morrow. Cannot I rely on you for a lift?”
“Ah,” said he, “what are you going to put up there–a framed house?”
“O, no,” replied the minister, smiling, “only a few logs. The town owners are going to let me take down the log house they have used on the other side of the river,–as the logs are so well seasoned,–and put them up on my place; and, wife,”–turning to her,–“we shall have to depend on you for refreshments for the occasion.”
“You have given me short notice,” she replied, “but I can have things ready if you can manage to get supplies, and a stove up in season.”
“If you want a little help in getting started here,” said Mr. Jones, “I’ll send up my Tom; I guess he’d like to lend you a hand.”
“Could he come to-day?” asked Mrs. Payson.
“I’ll send him right along,” said the squatter, as he bent his steps towards home.