They all wrought cheerfully and with good heart, for they were
together again; and the missing one was only thought of as a
stimulus to exertion, or its reward. Letters came from Rufus,
which were read and read, and though not much talked about,
secretly served the whole family for dessert at their dinner
and for sweetmeats to their tea. Letters which shewed that the
father's end was gaining, that the son's purpose was
accomplishing; Rufus would be a man! They were not very
frequent, for they avoided the post-office to save expense,
and came by a chance hand now and then; -- "Favoured by Mr.
Upshur," -- or, "By Uncle Absalom." They were written on great
uncouth sheets of letter-paper, yellow and coarse; but the
handwriting grew bold and firm, and the words and the thoughts
were changing faster yet, from the rude and narrow mind of the
boy, to the polish and the spread of knowledge. Perhaps the
letters might be boyish yet, in another contrast; but the home
circle could not see it; and if they could, certainly the
change already made was so swift as shewed a great readiness
for more. Mr. Landholm said little about these letters; read
them sometimes to Mr. Upshur, read them many times to himself;
and for his family, his face at those times was comment
enough.

"Well! --" he said one day, as he folded up one of the uncouth
great sheets and laid it on the table, -- "the man that could
write _that_, was never made to hoe corn -- that's certain."

Winthrop heard it.

At midsummer Rufus came home for a little. He brought news. He