Picture to yourselves, my dear children, a handsome, old-fashioned room,
with a large, open cupboard at one end, in which is displayed a
magnificent gold cup, with some other splendid articles of gold and
silver plate. In another part of the room, opposite to a tall looking-
glass, stands our beloved chair, newly polished, and adorned with a
gorgeous cushion of crimson velvet tufted with gold.

In the chair sits a man of strong and sturdy frame, whose face has been
roughened by northern tempests and blackened by the burning sun of the
West Indies. He wears an immense periwig, flowing down over his
shoulders. His coat has a wide embroidery of golden foliage; and his
waistcoat, likewise, is all flowered over and bedizened with gold. His
red, rough hands, which have done many a good day's work with the hammer
and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace ruffles at his wrists.
On a table lies his silver-hilted sword; and in a corner of the room
stands his gold-headed cane, made of a beautifully polished West India
wood.

Somewhat such an aspect as this did Sir William Phips present when he
sat in Grandfather's chair after the king had appointed him governor of
Massachusetts. Truly there was need that the old chair should be
varnished and decorated with a crimson cushion, in order to make it
suitable for such a magnificent-looking personage.

But Sir William Phips had not always worn a gold-embroidered coat, nor
always sat so much at his ease as he did in Grandfather's chair. He was
a poor man's son, and was born in the province of Maine, where he used
to tend sheep upon the hills in his boyhood and youth. Until he had
grown to be a man, he did not even know how to read and write. Tired of