question for several days. They were aware that, for all their cousin's
professed willingness to work, the care of his family would in all
probability devolve upon them, for some time at any rate. But Grandma
Adams had tenderly loved her brother, Silas' father, and at length by
her advice a favourable reply was written. "I can tell, you one thing,"
said Aunt Lucinda, after the letter was sent away, "I cannot, and will
not have Silas Stinson's family move in here, for if he has no more
method in governing his children than in other things we might as well
have as many young Indians right out of the Penobscot Tribe brought into
the house. I am willing to help them as far as I can, but bringing them
into the house is out of the question." "I'll tell you what you can do,
Nathan," said grandma, "you know there's an old house on that piece of
land you bought of Squire Taylor last fall, and you just fix it up as
well as you can, and let them live in it this summer, and by the time
another winter comes you can see further about it; perhaps by keeping
round with Silas you may get some work out of him on the farm this
summer, and his family must have a home of some kind. Providence has
been very kind to us, and we must lend them a helping hand." "I dare
say," replied my aunt, in her usual sharp manner, "that Providence has
done as much for Cousin Silas as for us, only while we have toiled early
and late, he has been whiffling about from one thing to another, trying
to find some way to live without work; but I guess he'll learn before
he's done that he'll have to work for a living like other people. But I
suppose, Nathan as they've got to come you'd better see about fixing up
that old house right away. If there was only himself and wife, I'd try
and put up with them here for a while, but with their five wild tearing
children--it makes me shudder to think of it!"

When the matter of Cousin Silas' removal to Canada became a settled
thing it appeared less terrible than upon first consideration. April