than exists between Simon Slade the tavern-keeper, and Simon Slade
the miller."

"And intemperate, also?" I suggested.

"He's beginning to take a little too much," was answered.

"In that case, he'll scarcely be as well off five years hence as
he is now."

"He's at the top of the wheel, some of us think."

"What has led to this opinion?"

"He's beginning to neglect his house, for one thing."

"A bad sign."

"And there is another sign. Heretofore, he has always been on
hand, with the cash, when desirable property went off, under
forced sale, at a bargain. In the last three or four months,
several great sacrifices have been made, but Simon Slade showed no
inclination to buy. Put this fact against another,--week before
last, he sold a house and lot in the town for five hundred dollars
less than he paid for them, a year ago--and for just that sum less
than their true value."

"How came that?" I inquired.

"Ah! there's the question! He wanted money; though for what