The children were put to school; at least it was what passed for a school in those days: a place where tender young humanity devoted itself for eight or ten hours a day to learning incomprehensible rubbish by heart out of books and reciting it by rote, like parrots; so that a finished education consisted simply of a permanent headache and the ability to read without stopping to spell the words or take breath.

Hawkins bought out the village store for a song and proceeded to reap the profits, which amounted to but little more than another song.
The wonderful speculation hinted at by Col.

Sellers in his letter turned out to be the raising of mules for the Southern market; and really it promised very well.

The young stock cost but a trifle, the rearing but another trifle, and so Hawkins was easily persuaded to embark his slender means in the enterprise and turn over the keep and care of the animals to Sellers and Uncle Dan'l.
All went well: Business prospered little by little.

Hawkins even built a new house, made it two full stories high and put a lightning rod on it.
People came two or three miles to look at it.