A couple of loads of wood were just being deposited in the deacon's yard. They were brought by a tenant of his, who paid a part of his rent in that way.
When Ben saw the wood, a bright thought came to him.
"Perhaps I can get a chance to saw and split that wood," he said to himself. "The deacon doesn't keep a man, and he is too old to do it himself."
As Ben did not mean to let any chance slip, he instantly entered the yard by the gate, and, walking up to the front door, rang the bell. The bell had only been in place for a year. The deacon had been contented with the old fashioned knocker, and had reluctantly consented to the innovation of a bell, and he still spoke of it as a new-fangled nonsense.
Nancy Sawyer, an old-maid daughter of the deacon, answered the bell.
"Good morning, ma'am," said Ben politely.
"Good morning, Ben," the deacon's daughter responded. "How's your aunt to-day?"
"Pretty well, thank you."
"Will you come in?"
"I called on business," said Ben. "Don't you want that wood sawed and split?"