One thing was gained by this journey. In Vantassel, Winthrop
contrived to possess himself of a Greek lexicon and a Graeca
Majora, and also a Greek grammar, though the only one he could
get that suited his purse was the Westminster grammar, in
which the alternatives of Greek were all Latin. _That_ did not
stagger him. He came home rich in his classical library, and
very resolved to do something for himself this winter.

The day after his return from Vantassel, just as they had done
supper, there was a knock at the front door. Winthrop went to
open it. There he found a man, tall and personable, well-
dressed though like a traveller, with a little leathern valise
in his hand. Winthrop had hardly time to think he did not look
like an American, when his speech confirmed it.

"How-do-you-do?" he said, using each word with a ceremony
which shewed they were not denizens of his tongue. "I am
wanting to make some résèrche in dis country, and I was
directet here."

Winthrop asked him in, and then when he was seated, asked him
what he wanted.

"I am wishing to know if you could let me live wiz you a few
days -- I am wanting to be busy in your mountains, about my
affairs, and I just want to know if you can let me have a bed
to sleep on at night, and a little somet'ing to eat -- I would
be very much obliged and I would pay you whatever you please -- "

"Mother," said Winthrop, "can you let this gentleman stay here