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Old Mr. Pepper had often cursed the poor-house; Mrs. Pepper had denounced it. Both of them feared it. They predicted their last home in it. They hated it, yet were sure they should tenant its rooms, and taste its bitterest cups. To the poor-house and all its horrors they were fast gliding, though now nearly eighty years of age, and of unquestioned wealth. "We shall go to the poor-house yet," said Mrs. Pepper, when a lady asked her for a dollar to buy garments for Mrs. Sevens and her eight children; "we shall go to the poor-house ourselves yet." "Before we die we shall get into the poor-house," said John Pepper, Esq., to his son, who begged him to assist in building a new church; we shall go to the poor-house, and you know it." And to the poor-house, it is true, they finally went! Did they not deserve to go there?

CHAPTER X.
DUTY leads in the way of securing and laying in PROVISIONS. JIMS vs. DAN, and Dan vs. Jims.

ONE morning, soon after the interview which took place between Mr. Savage and Captain Bunce, the latter directed Dick, his son, to have the team put to the cart, "both yokes," and to go over with John, the hired man, and with Dan and Bill, to Mr. Savage's for a lot of beef he had bought of him, and to stop at Durkee's, the butcher, for a barrel or two of heads, neck pieces, and shanks, and at Bowler's for a couple of barrels of cider. "And if you want him, take Jims along with you," said he.

"Want him!" exclaimed Dick; "I should as soon want a wild cat. He's a young devil at best, and needs a flogging every day of his life."

"Hold up, Dick, hold up," said his father; "Jims is a brat, I know; but we must consider that he's young, yet, in manners, and that he will grow better by-and-bye."

"He'll swing for it one of these days, or I'll marry old Mag, by heavens!" said the hopeful Dick.

"Oh, don't be too dead on Jims," replied the Captain. "He may come to the State prison; but I hope he'll escape the gallows. Call him if you want him."

"JIMS!" shouted Dick, three or four times, in vain.

"JIMS!" hoarsely and sternly cried the Captain. But no "Jims."

"Dan," said Dick, as that worthy appeared, "if you know where Jims is bring him here, and also old Bill I want you three to go with us this morning."

"Go where?" savagely growled the old criminal.

"Over t'other side, with the team."

"When are you going?"

"Now, in five minutes."

"Havn't had any thing to eat yet."

"Well, whose fault is that? There's food enough, if you are a mind to eat it."

"The cold vituals getting bad tho', and not much on't."

"None of your impudence, Dan. Eat your stuff and come along. Find Bill and Jims, and bring them. Tell Jims to ride old Roan to Sparks' and get her shod, and then come to Savage's with the tackling to hitch her ahead of the team."

In a warm corner of the poor-house "public room," as it was called, not far from the fire, rolled up in a tattered and faded blanket, a human figure might be noticed, apparently in a deep sleep. He seemed regardless of the chattering voices around him, of the shoutings without, even of his own name, of his own hard bed and comfortless bedding, of every thing, of life. His breathings were long and heavy, and he occasionally grated his teeth together, as you have seen or heard children whose sleep is more or less uncomfortable and disturbed, and anon he muttered unintelligible words. But no one noticed him, no one spoke to him, although a number were in the room, and some were loquacious and even merry and facetious over their cold breakfast of yesterday's bone-pickings and liver. They were accustomed to his ways, which also resembled their own, for all in the poor-house lounged down when and where they chose. Besides, Jims was a lad of but ten or twelve years of age, a mere stripling among them, who, though somewhat wilful and headstrong, was rather a favorite with the old folks, on account of his willingness to take their part when the Captain was rough and hard on them, and because he often rendered them boyish services, running into the yard for chips, and up stairs for a pipe, and could get down on his hands and knees and stoutly blow up the coals when the fire was low, and now and then could get an extra mug of cider, without discovery, to cheer some fainting soul or thirsty palate, or perchance steal or beg a parcel of tobacco for the common good, and it might happen, a chicken! Naturally a smart, bright boy, the life led at this institution was any thing but appropriate to the development of his true nature, its associations being far below the true standard of morality; its amusements, its labors, its experiences, its comforts degrading and demoralizing. Jims, notwithstanding the disadvantages of his position, was a tall, stout, athletic boy, although rather awkward and ungainly. He now slept on, and breathed heavily as though his rest in the night had been disturbed, and he determined to get its equivalent after sunrise.

In the meantime, aunt Dorothy was trying to munch her breakfast of hard bread and tough liver, washing it down her throat with cheap tea, sugarless and milkless, anon alternating with well watered cider, and interlarding,