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   The church was icy cold, and he toiled in the cellar, stuffing wood into the flaming maw of the steam-heater, till it was time to ring the bell. As he gave the last stroke, Deacon Bradley approached him. Jehiel, Ive got a little job of repairing I want you should do at my store, he said in the loud, slow speech of a man important in the community. Come to the store to-morrow morning and see about it. He passed on into his pew, which was at the back of the church near a steam radiator, so that he was warm, no matter what the weather was. 
     But in our  newspapers the compounding-disease  lingers a little to the
   Jehiel Hawthorn went out and stood on the front steps in the winter sunshine and his heart swelled exultingly as he looked across at the deacons store. I wish Id had time to tell him Id do no repairs for him to-morrow, nor any time -- that Im going to travel and see the world. 
   His uncle had grown very pale during this speech, and at the last words he recoiled with an exclamation of horror. There was a silence in which he looked at his nephew with the wide eyes of a man who sees a spectre. Then he turned away into the furnace-room, and picking up his lunch-box brought it back. Here, you, he said, roughly, part of whats troublin you is that you aint had any breakfast. You eat this and youll feel better. Ill be back in a minute. 
   Still, those years with his sister, filled with labor beyond his a