"I've known a good teacher to take a brain no bigger than a fly's foot an' make it visible to the naked eye." One of the children, of which there were four in the Hacket home, called us to supper.

Mrs.Hacket, a stout woman with a red and kindly face, sat at one end of the table, and between them were the children--Mary, a pretty daughter of seventeen years; Maggie, a six-year-old; Ruth, a delicate girl of seven, and John, a noisy, red-faced boy of five.

The chairs were of plain wood--like the kitchen chairs of to-day.

In the middle of the table was an empty one--painted green.

Before he sat down Mr.Hacket put his hand on the back of this chair and said: "A merry heart to you, Michael Henry." I wondered at the meaning of this, but dared not to ask.