I followed him very gladly, being confident that he came to me with a message from the Justiciaries.

But after taking pains to be sure that none could overhear us, he turned on me suddenly, and asked,-- "Now, John, how is your dear mother ?" "Worshipful sir" I answered him, after recovering from my surprise at his knowledge of our affairs, and kindly interest in them, "it is two months now since I have seen her.

Would to God that I only knew how she is faring now, and how the business of the farm goes!" "Sir, I respect and admire you," the old gentleman replied, with a bow very low and genteel; "few young court-gallants of our time are so reverent and dutiful.

Oh, how I did love my mother!" Here he turned up his eyes to heaven, in a manner that made me feel for him and yet with a kind of wonder.
"I am very sorry for you, sir," I answered most respectfully, not meaning to trespass on his grief, yet wondering at his mother's age; for he seemed to be at least threescore; "but I am no court-gallant, sir; I am only a farmer's son, and learning how to farm a little." "Enough, John; quite enough," he cried, "I can read it in thy countenance.

Honesty is written there, and courage and simplicity.