comrade of the ways. "From my good mother I derive imagination. My life
has not been happy here. But work has helped."

He pointed to the shop. Over the main door a faded, weather-worn sign
advertised "Eastup Chick & Son, Blacksmiths." On the gable was a newer
sign heralding "Jared Chick & Father, Inventors."

"I am Jared Chick, my friend."

He talked slowly, pausing to pick words, phrasing with the carefulness
of the man of method, talking as those persons talk who have read many
books and use their tongue but seldom. Farr found much quaintness in the
solemn man's discourse.

"My father put my name on the sign when I was young, and it pleased me.
I put his name on the other sign when he was old and it did not please
him, though I have insisted that he must share in all credit which comes
to me. But my father does not possess imagination. I am sorry he lost
his temper to-day and broke up his coffin. Not that I approved of having
it in the house all these years, but he was very proud of it. He made
it soon after my mother died. I think, now that he has destroyed it, he
will live many years longer. He is very strong-minded."

"I'm glad to have my suspicions confirmed," said Farr.

"He was extremely angry when his eldest brother died at eighty. He
stood over him in the last moments and made us all very uncomfortable
by telling Uncle Joachim that there was no need of his dying--that if he
would only show a little Chick spunk he could stay alive just as well
as not and would not go fushing out just when he was most needed in the