duke of Gloucester. It was now "Main" Street, and nothing more, though
it was still wide and white and placidly impressed by the slow passage
of Kingsborough feet. Beyond the court-house the breeze blew across the
green, which was ablaze with buttercups. Beneath the warm wind the
yellow heads assumed the effect of a brilliant tangle, spreading over
the unploughed common, running astray in the grass-lined ditch that
bordered the walk, hiding beneath dusty-leaved plants in unsuspected
hollows, and breaking out again under the horses' hoofs in the sandy
street.

"Ah!" exclaimed the judge, and a good-natured laugh ran round the group.

"Wall, I never!" ejaculated the elder Burr, but there was no surprise in
his tone; it expressed rather the helplessness of paternity.

The boy faced them, pressing more firmly against the bricks.

"There ain't nothin' in peanut-raisin'," he said. "It's jest farmin' fur
crows. I'd ruther be a judge."

The judge laughed and turned from him.

"Stick to the soil, my boy," he advised. "Stick to the soil. It is the
best thing to do. But if you choose the second best, and I can help you,
I will--I will, upon my word--Ah! General," to a jovial-faced,
wide-girthed gentleman in a brown linen coat, "I'm glad to see you in
town. Fine weather!"

He put on his hat, bowed again, and went on his way.