od soul, never refused a kind request in his life, and we felt quite safe for the next half hour. I think I see him now, with his trim leg encased in a fine home-knit stocking--his bright shoe-buckles, and neat drab small-clothes--his queer-looking continental hat, with his gray locks appearing beneath it, and his hands resting upon the head of his silver-mounted cane.
[Illustration: Portrait of Uncle Ned.]
The chairs were set in their places, stragglers called in, and all were seated in silence to hear.
UNCLE NED'S STORY.
"Many years ago, when I was a slip of a lad like Tom there"--"Why, uncle," cried little Willy in amazement, "did you say you were no bigger than Tom? Were you ever as little as Tom, uncle?"--"Hush, Willy," said Tom, a well-grown bo