Overholt looked up, and the boy saw his pleased face.

"It's very far from silly," he said. "I believe you're born to be a
builder, boy! It's not only not silly, but it's very well done indeed!"

"I'll bet you can't tell what the place is," observed Newton, a secret
joy stealing through him at his father's words.

"Know it? I should think I did, and I wish we were there now! Here's the
College, and there's our house in the street on the other side of the
common. The church is first-rate, it's really like it--and there's the
Roman Catholic Chapel and the Public Library in Main Street."

"Why, you really do recognise the places!" cried Newton in delight. "I
didn't think anybody'd know them!"

"One would have to be blind not to, if one knew the town," said
Overholt. "And there's the dear old lane!" He was absorbed in the model.
"And the three hickory trees, and even the little bench!"

"Why, do you remember that bench, father?"

Overholt looked up again, quickly and rather dreamily.

"Yes. It was there that I asked your mother to marry me," he said.

"Not really? Then I'm glad I put it in!"

"So am I, for the dear old time's sake and for her sake, and for yours,
my boy. Tell me when you made this, and how you can remember it all so