way, too often; but I don't call Joe Hale exactly an uneducated man, Sarah."
"No, not as uneducated as he might be," replied Sarah. "He is just the sort of man, so far as education goes, which America is filling up with fast; a creature too much informed to be called ignorant, but too ignorant to be called educated in any sense of the word. I am not at all sure that masses of this sort of well-informed ignorance are desirable material for a nation."
"Oh, you traitor to the republic!" cried Netty.
"Yes," replied Sarah, severely; "my countrymen prevent my thinking so well of my country as I would like to."
"Walpole said that better," retorted Netty. "Of all things to plagiarize a treason!"
Joe Hale's home was in Western New York, in the beautiful Genesee Valley. His father had been one of the pioneer settlers in that region, and the log-cabin in which Joe's oldest brothers and sisters had been born was still standing, and did good duty as a wheat barn. The farm was a large and productive one, and the Hales had always taken their position among the well-to-do and influential people of the county. But a strange fatality of death seemed to pursue the family. Joe's father was killed by falling from a beam in his own barn; and Joe's eldest brother was crushed to death by a favorite bull of his. It was never known whether the animal did it in play or in rage. Joe's eldest
