The author is not disposed to apologize for the "exciting" element--as some have been pleased to denominate it--of this and others of his stories. If goodness and truth have been cast down, if vice and sin have been raised up, in the story, an explanation would not, and ought not to, atone for the crime. The writer degrades no saints, he canonizes no villains.
nt him into the chamber for it.
"Stoppin' up the cracks to keep the cold out," whined the miser. "I cal'late I got the rheumatiz out of this hole."
Mat wanted the screw-driver, but he helped fasten up the board before he took it, and wondered what the old man had cut away the laths for. The board was put up, and the money was safe; but the miser hardly dared to go out of sight of the house.
Levi entered the house. Uncle Nathan was not at home, but he was probably somewhere in the vicinity. Aunt Susan was in the kitchen baking her weekly batch of brown bread, the staple article of food in the family, because it was cheaper than white bread.
"Aunt, I want to go up in the garret and get that little saw-mill I made four or five years ago," said Levi.
"Well, I s'pose you can," replied she, filling up the old brick oven with pine wood, which cracked and snapped furiously in the fierce fl