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Mrs. Rodman resolved that she would, as soon as convenient, make old Mr. Warren a visit, and so learn from him all she could in relation to her mother and the family. It happened, therefore, on a pleasant winter's day, that her husband proposing a sleigh-ride over the parish, she consented, and asked that it might be in the direction of Mr. Warren's retired house -- "for," said she, "I have long thought I should like to see him and have some conversation about my mother and her family, especially the older members of it."

"Very well," said her husband, "let us go there," and away they drove.

Passing the bridge just below the large pond where Jims had caught his fish sometime previous to this, they were surprised to see the boy sitting below the dam, where the water fell from beneath the ice into a deep, dark hole, and intently watching his hook, with which it seemed the trout were sporting in the pool. He had on the same slouching hat, the same tattered clothing as when they last saw him, but his face and hands were washed clean and white, his hair fell long and handsome into his neck.

The clergyman reined up his horse, and cried out to him -- "What luck to-day, my boy?"

At the sound of his voice, Jims turned quickly in the direction of it, and blushed slightly when he perceived Mr. and Mrs. Rodman looking down from the bridge and speaking to him. Withdrawing his line from the water and laying it down on the snow, he ran up quickly into the road, and with his hat in his hand made them a slight nod, saying that the water made such a noise he could not understand them. So Mr. Rodman again asked him what luck he had found in fishing. "Well, sir," said Jims, "it is not a good day -- the sun is out. I shall catch them near night, I hope, for poor Mr. Boyce's sake."

"Then you catch fish for him?" said Mrs., Rodman.

"Oh, yes, ma'am, every few days. He loves them."

"And you sometimes have a good taste of them yourself?" said Mr. Rodman.

"Not often, sir; I give them to him. He's a sick man."

""Well now, Jims, when are you coming up to our house; we want to see you and show you some books, and talk with you; come, won't you, before long?" inquired Mrs. Rodman.

"Yes, ma'am, if the Captain says ' yes.' I can't go if he refuse, you know. We are his folks. "We ain't our own, by any means. I run away to go fishing, but I shouldn't like to, to go to your house."

"Why not?"

"Because he would be sure to find you and tell you such an awful story about me you'd never want to see me, nor I to see you again in the world."

"Oh, I hope not."

"I know him," said the boy, "may be he'll let me come, if so, I will."

"Do," said both, "come if you can; and now, Jims, is the road open, do you think, to Mr. Warren's?"

"I don't know, sir; there's sleds and cattle go up there, and old John and Polly go through that way -- I guess you can get along."

"Well, we must go on, I believe; be a good boy, Jims."

"Good-bye!" said Mrs. Rodman.

"Good-bye, ma'am," said the boy, and then he looked after them as they drove on till they were lost to his view.

"There is something in the countenance of that boy," said Mrs. Rodman, "that instinctively fills me with interest. I wish we might know more about him, and be able to do him some service."

"He is, naturally, a very bright boy," said her husband. "It will be too late to do him any good soon."

"Well, husband, let us make inquiries about him, and see if something can't be done, eh?"

"Very good, we will."

They arrived at Mr. Warren's at length, although the road was none of the smoothest for an easy sleigh-ride, and were very cordially welcomed. The whole family considered it a very great mark of attention, that the minister and his wife should visit them when the roads were so poorly opened. They built the fires up anew, and brushed the hearth afresh, and put the room in good order all round. As for old Mr. Warren, he entertained his guests with many reminiscences of the parish, its former size in square miles, and the actual number of the inhabitants; the different clergymen who had been settled over it in sixty years; the history of many an ancient family; the changes in the state of society, in business, wealth, moral character, etc. He then inquired of Mr. and Mrs. Rodman about the West, whether, in their opinion, the West could not grow too fast for its own good, and in the rage for speculation and wealth agriculture come to be overlooked, to the great detriment of the inhabitants.

Mr. Rodman thought not. He said, "The West cannot fail to be cultivated, for no speculation in land, or in stocks, or staple productions can, in general, pay so rich a return as the garden soil of that mighty world! One good, able-bodied farmer, can there take care of and secure twenty-five or thirty acres of corn! While it is impossible for one man here to cultivate more than two acres, or at most three, along with his other work. And the corn there is worth, on the ground, nearly what it is here -- and the land is much cheaper. I think that the farmers of the West know where their true strength lies, and that if they speculate in lands and stocks they will not neglect to till the soil."