attractive, as the neighborhood of Apple Orchard, to which his steps
ever wandered, occasioned him more sadness than he had ever felt
before. Redbud was gone--why should he go near the place again? The
sunshine had left it--he had better seek new scenes, and try what
effect they would have.

Therefore was it that Verty had become a lawyer's clerk; and it was
the recollection of these causes of sadness which had made the boy so
dull and languid.

Without Redbud, everything seemed dim to him; and he could not ask
whither she had flown.

This was his sad predicament.

After receiving the assurance of Roundjacket's pardon, Verty, as we
have said, began scrawling over the copy of the deed he was making the
name of Redbud. This persevering and thoughtful occupation at last
attracted the attention of his companion.

"Redbud!" asked the poet, "who is Redbud, my young friend? I should
conjecture that she was a young lady, from the name.--Stay, is there
not a Miss Redbud Summers, daughter of the Squire of said name?"

Verty nodded.

"A friend of yours?"

"Yes," sighed Verty.