young man that laughed at his aunt's funeral," directing a severe
glance at Jack; "but I'm not one of that kind. I think, with the
Scriptures, that there's a time to weep."

"Doesn't it say there's a time to laugh, also?" asked Mrs. Crump.

"When I see anything to laugh about, I'm ready to laugh," said Aunt
Rachel; "but human nature ain't to be forced. I can't see anything
to laugh at now, and perhaps you won't by and by."

It was evidently of no use to attempt a confutation of this, and the
subject dropped.

The tea-things were cleared away by Mrs. Crump, who afterwards sat
down to her sewing. Aunt Rachel continued to knit in grim silence,
while Jack seated himself on a three-legged stool near his aunt, and
began to whittle out a boat after a model lent him by Tom Piper, a
young gentleman whose aunt has already been referred to.

The cooper took out his spectacles, wiped them carefully with his
handkerchief, and as carefully adjusted them to his nose. He then
took down from the mantel-piece one of the few books belonging to
his library,--"Captain Cook's Travels,"--and began to read, for the
tenth time it might be, the record of the gallant sailor's
circumnavigations.

The plain little room presented a picture of peaceful tranquillity,
but it proved to be only the calm which precedes a storm.

The storm in question, I regret to say, was brought about by the