"Thank you." And as she spoke she opened and shut the gate in his face.
Winthrop turned about and retraced his steps homeward, to read his brother's letter.

It was read by his little end of candle after he went up to bed at night.
"Little River, Nov.

1807.
"My dear governor, "For I expect you will be all that, one of these days, (a literal "governor," I mean,) or in some other way assert your supremacy over nineteen twentieths of the rest of the human race.

Methinks even now from afar I see Joseph's dream enacting, in your favour, only you will perforce lack something of his _baker's dozen_ of homages in your own family.
Unless -- but nobody can tell what may happen.

For my part I am sincerely willing to be surpassed, so it be _only by you;_ and will swing my cap and hurrah for you louder than anybody, the first time you are elected.