"Let me pay you in nuts?" said Mr. Linden.
But then came up other farmers and heads of families to claim Mr. Linden's attention; men whose boys were at the school; and who now in various states of gratification, but all gratified, came one after another to grasp his hand and thank him for the good he had done and was doing them.
"You're the first man, sir," said one, a broad-shouldered, tall, strong man, with a stern reserved face,—"you're the first man that has been able to make that boy of mine—Phil—attend to anything, or go to school regular. He talks hard sometimes,—but you do what you like with him, Mr. Linden! I give you my leave. He's smart, and he aint a bad boy, at heart; but he's wild, and he has his own way and it aint always a good one. His mother never had any government of him," said the father, looking towards the identical person whom Dr. Harrison had characterized as 'the perspective of a woman,' and who certainly had the air of one whose mind—what she had—was shut up and shut off into the further extremities of possibility.
Then came up Judge Harrison.
"Well, Mr. Linden, I hope you have been gratified. I have. I declare I have!—very much. You are doing a great thing for us here, sir; and I don't doubt it is a gratification to you to know it. I haven't made up my mind what we shall do to thank you—we've been thanking the boys—but that's, you know,—that's a political expedient. My heart's in the other thing."
"Squire Deacon was givin' me about the same perspective of the case," said Mr. Simlins,—"only he thought he warnt the one to do the thaukin'."
Mr. Linden's face, through all these various gratulations, had been a study. One part of his nature answered, eye to eye and hand to hand, the thanks and pleasure so variously expressed. But back of that lay something else,—a something which gave even his smile a tinge,—it was the face of one who
"Patiently, and still expectant,
Looked out through the wooden bars."
Sometimes grave, at others a queer sense of his own position seemed to touch him; and his manner might then remind one of a swift-winged bird—who walking about on the grass for business purposes, is complimented by a company of crickets on his superior powers of locomotion. And it was with almost a start that he answered Judge Harrison—
"Thank me, sir? I don't think I deserve any thanks."