the earth.

Who the real purchaser of his farm was, Mr. Gray did not know, for
the broker had bought in his own name. So bewildered was the farmer
by the suddenly-occurring disaster, that, for several days
subsequent to the sale, he remained almost totally paralyzed in
mind. No plans were laid for the future, nor even those ordinary
steps for the present taken, that common prudence would suggest; he
wandered about the farm, or sat at home, dreamily musing upon what
seemed the utter ruin of all his best hopes in life. While in this
state, he was surprised by a visit from Mr. Bolton. The old
gentleman, in taking him by the hand, said--"What's the matter, my
friend? You appear in trouble."

"And I am in trouble," was unhesitatingly answered.

"Not so deep but that you may get out of it again, I hope?"

Mr. Gray shook his head in a desponding way.

"What _is_ the trouble?" Mr. Bolton inquired.

"I have lost my farm."

"Oh, no!"

"It is too true; it has been sold for a mortgage of fifteen hundred
dollars. Though I have already paid more than that sum on account of
the purchase, it only brought enough to pay the encumbrance, and I
am ruined."