and landed at the other village this morning, and now he was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there.  The young fellow says: “When I first see you I says to myself, 'It's Mr. Wilks, sure, and he come mighty near getting here in time.'  But then I says again, 'No, I reckon it ain't him, or else he wouldn't be paddling up the river.'  You _ain't_ him, are you?” “No, my name's Blodgett--Elexander Blodgett--_Reverend_ Elexander Blodgett, I s'pose I must say, as I'm one o' the Lord's poor servants.  But still I'm jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving in time, all the same, if he's missed anything by it--which I hope he hasn't.” “Well, he don't miss any property by it, because he'll get that all right; but he's missed seeing his brother Peter die--which he mayn't mind, nobody can tell as to that--but his brother would a give anything in this world to see _him_ before he died; never talked about nothing else all these three weeks; hadn't seen him since they was boys together--and hadn't ever seen his brother William at all--that's the deef and dumb one--William ain't more than thirty or thirty-five.  Peter and George were the only ones that come out here; George was the married brother; him and his wife both died last year.  Harvey and William's the only ones that's left now; and, as I was saying, they haven't got here in time.” “Did anybody send 'em word?” “Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter said then that he sorter felt like he warn't going to get well this time. You see, he was pretty old, and George's g'yirls was too young to be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn't seem to care much to live.  He most desperately wanted to see Harvey--and William, too, for that matter--because he was one of them kind that can't bear to make a will.  He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he'd told in it wher