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his name if the judge had not stopped him. "Now, what I know about this note is nothing at all; but what I am brought here for is, I suppose, to testify as to the charac ter of Deacon Sanborn." Turning to the

THE SQUIRE. judge, he said : " I don't know, your honor, as I can say anything better of a man than this: I had three sons, — two of 'em were killed in the war and one has died since, — and whenever the deacon would pass the house on his way to the village, many 's the time I 've called my sons to the window, pointin' out the deacon, and saying, ' Boys,

thar goes old Deacon Sanborn. Now follow in his footsteps, and you 'll get thar.'" The next witness was the squire's wife, who wore a green calash bonnet, although it was winter. She testified about the same as the squire had. They were followed by some six or eight witnesses on the deacon's side. The counsel for the defence then called James Taylor. I was much interested in this man, whom I had heard but had not seen. He was a tall, lean, lank Down-easter, with red hair and florid complexion. With both hands in his pockets and a defiant look upon his face, he took the stand, saying that he would tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. "Philip Sanborn," said he, '* was killed. His grocery store being in the same build ing with my apothecary shop, I made an offer on the stock to his father, the deacon. The old gentleman took my offer; and I cut an arch between the two stores, and run both. I paid him $800 in cash, and gave him a note for $1,200 due the 4th of March last. On the fifteenth day of February I had the money all saved up in a snuff-jar on the shelf in my back office. About eleven o'clock in the morning of March 4th I went out in the corner of my store where the sodafountain stands, and looking out the win dow down the hill across Rice's Bridge, I saw Deacon Sanborn coming from the churchyard. I watched him until he crossed the bridge and was lost behind the hill. I knew by the time I got the money out the deacon would be there; so I went into the back office, brought the bills out in my hand, leaned over the marble slab in front of the soda-fountain, and put the money on the shelf where I kept the syrups. Just at that moment the door clicked, and the old deacon came in. He said, 'Good-morn ing ' to me; said I, ' The same to you.' I moved a chair for him, and took one myself. Said I, 'I suppose we both know what we're here for;' and leaning over the counter, I took up the money and laid it on top of the mar-