alter the case. It's a sort of natural madness that makes one attack
in every person's lifetime. I don't believe in repeated attacks.
Some are bit worse than others; and some think themselves bit,
and are mistaken. That's the case with William, and it's that that
keeps him from your law-books and my fiddle. That makes him thin.
He has a notion of Margaret Cooper, and she has none of him; and
love that's all of one side is neither real nor rational. I don't
believe it."

William Hinkley muttered something angrily in the ears of the
speaker.

"Well, well!" said the impetuous cousin, "I don't want to make you
vexed, and still less do I come here to talk such politics with
you. What do you say to tickling a trout this afternoon? That's
what I come for."

"It's too cool," said the old man.

"Not a bit. There's a wind from the south, and a cast of cloud
is constantly growing between us and the sun. I think we shall do
something--something better than talking about love, and law, where
nobody's agreed. You, gran'pa, won't take the love; Bill Hinkley
can't stomach the law, and the trout alone can bring about a
reconciliation. Come, gran'pa, I'm resolved on getting your supper
to-night, and you must go and see me do it."

"On one condition only, Ned."

"What's that, gran'pa?"