HAD Major Roger Potter been as well qualified to take advantage of a political necessity, as the cunning quality of his gallantry in this instance fully testified, he was to get the better in a matter of trade, he had never fallen from so high an estate as that of defending the nation's honor to that of selling tin ware and shoe pegs.

The major, saying he had an inert sympathy for the humble, and that nothing had so much pleased him as to do Mrs. Trotbridge service, now commenced to set her table, which he did with the familiarity of a good housewife, while the anxious woman bestirred herself in preparing dinner, expressing her doubts as she did so, that her efforts would not meet our expectations. Suddenly remembering that I was so great a politician, the good woman, having made sundry inquiries concerning my wants, bethought herself that I would like a book to while away the time; so, leaving her stew pan in charge of the Major, who, having set the table with great exactness, was seated upon a small stool at the fireside, beating the doughnut batter in a bowl on his lap, she proceeded to a small book-rack over a window, and brought me a copy of Elder Boomer's last sermons, the reading of which she was fully assured in her own mind would interest me.

The major interposed (wiping his portentous belly, which had become disfigured with batter,) by saying that seeing the book advertised by the publishers (who were men of truth in all matters concerning their trade) as the greatest of recently published works, he got a copy for Mrs. Potter, who declared it a wonderful book, and had lent it to all the neighbors, who had read it until nothing would do but they must get up a religious revival. Indeed, if things kept on as they were going, there would soon not be a sinner left in the region round about Barnstable, such a change had the book worked in the pious feelings of the good people. I seated myself beside a window that overlooked the little garden, and turned over the leaves of the book, affecting to be deeply interested in it, but really listening to an interesting colloquy that was being kept up between the good woman and the major, at whose side several little flaxen headed urchins had crouched down, and with an air of paternal regard, watched intently in his face as he compounded the batter with so much force and energy, that at least one half it was lost in spatters over their features. And while doing this, so eager was the major to ascertain the exact state of Mrs. Trotbridge's affairs, that the increase of her pigs and poultry formed a prominent feature in his inquiries. She had let her little farm of thirty acres out on shares to neighbor Zack Slocum, who was esteemed the best crop-getter this side of the crossroads. The peach trees, of which she had seven ranged along the little picket fence round the garden, gave no very strong evidence of doing much, while the cherry tree over the well was touched with blight; but for all that she felt that providence would in some way enable her to scrape up fruit enough to get over the winter. What was deficient in one part of the country was made up by the plenty of another. She had recently, however, felt a great drawback in the bad times consequent upon the policy of the present administration. At last she had been told it was the folks in power at Washington who had made times so hard, that the wealthy manufacturer for whom she "binded" the shoes her boys stitched, could only give two cents a pair, where formerly he gave two and a half. But the cunning fellow, who was the sharpest kind of a straight Whig, said if they got their side in at the next election, he would come back to old prices, with cash instead of store pay. Mrs. Trotbridge hoped it might be so, for the half cent was a serious loss to a family so humble. But she was at a loss to account how it was that if times were so hard, the manufacturer, who could not afford to pay old prices, wanted a greater number of shoes bound, and would hurry her life out to have them done in less time than it were possible to do them.

The good woman, considering herself honored by such military and political greatness, spread her table with fried bacon and new laid eggs, and the cold pork and beans left over from yesterday, a few shavings of dried beef, currant jelly of the most tempting kind, doughnuts, hot and fresh out of the bacon fat, and bread made of wheat raised on the two acre patch across the road, and to which she added a cup of tea so delicate in flavor that it would have made a Dutch grandmother return thanks to th............