“We’re gettin’ old, Jefferson, and misfortune has come to us. Squire Sheldon has got a mortgage on the farm and it’s likely we’ll be turned out. You’ve come just in time to see it.”
“Is it so bad as that, Uncle Cyrus? Why, when I went away you were prosperous.”
“Yes, Jefferson, I owned the farm clear, and I had money in the bank, but now the money’s gone and there’s a twelve hundred dollar mortgage on the old place,” and the old man sighed.
“But how did it come about uncle? You and Aunt Nancy haven’t lived extravagantly, have you? Aunt Nancy, you haven’t run up a big bill at the milliner’s and dressmaker’s?”
“You was always for jokin’, Jefferson,” said the old lady, smiling faintly; “but that is not the way our losses came.”
“How then?”
“You see I indorsed notes for Sam Sherman over at Canton, and he failed, and I had to pay, then I bought some wild cat minin’ stock on Sam’s recommendation, and that went down to nothin’. So between the two I lost about three thousand dollars. I’ve been a fool, Jefferson, and it would have been money in my pocket if I’d had a guardeen.”
“So you mortgaged the place to Squire Sheldon, uncle?”
“Yes; I had to. I was obliged to meet my notes.”
“But surely the squire will extend the mortgage.”