remember,--people were always talking about him. "You must think I
am as rich as A. P. Fillmore!"--how many times I had heard people
say that! And Mr. Snider, who was on such friendly terms with him,
was standing here in a woodshed, talking with me! I wondered why I
had never heard of Mr. Snider before.

Presently we went in the house, after we had the wood and a pail
of water. The house was almost empty of furniture, and it was
pretty dismal. The kitchen was the only room they used
downstairs,--it contained a cook-stove, two tables, a couple of
broken-down chairs, and some boxes set on end, for seats. An old-
fashioned kitchen clock, its hands broken off, stood on a shelf,
silent. But a handsome little glass and gold clock was ticking
away in front of it.

The Professor joined us while we were kindling a fire in the
stove. He did not seem at all neglectful of his food, he inquired
how soon supper would be ready, and suggested that we have some
sausages in addition to what Mr. Snider was preparing to cook.
They sent me out to the shed for some more wood, and again to the
well for another pail of water, so that we could wash our hands
and faces at the sink.

We ate our supper in the kitchen, and as soon as the Professor
finished eating he lighted a long cigar. Mr. Snider did not seem
to notice this, though it made me wonder why he did not tell his
friend how many scoundrels he had known who had come to their
downfall through using tobacco. When the cigar was nearly gone,
the Professor said he would wash the dishes, if I would help him
wipe them. I agreed, and we began the work. Mr. Snider presently