A FIRE The last of February drew nigh, which was the time fixed upon for Josey to go home. He had remained with his uncle much longer than his father had at first intended; but now they wanted him to return, before the roads broke up in the spring. The evening before Josey was to go, the farmer was sitting by the fire, when Jonas came in from the barn. "Jonas," said the farmer, "I have got to write a letter to my brother, to send by Josey to-morrow; why won't you take a sheet of paper and write for me, and I'll tell you what to say. You are rather handier with the pen than I am." Jonas accordingly brought a sheet of paper and a pen and ink, and took his place at a table at the back side of the room, and the farmer dictated to him as follows: "Dear Brother, "I take this opportunity to inform you that we are all alive and well, and I hope that you may be the same. This will be handed to you by Josey, who leaves us to-morrow, according to your orders. We have been very glad to have him with us, though he hasn't had opportunity to learn much. However, I suppose he'll fetch up again in his learning, when he gets home. He has behaved pretty fair on the whole, as boys go. He will make a smart man, I've no doubt, though he don't seem to take much to farming. "We hope to have you, and your wife and children, come and pay us a visit this coming summer,--say in raspberry time, which will be just after haying." "There," said the farmer, "now fold it up, and write my brother's name on the back, and to-morrow morning I'll look it over, and sign my name to it." Jonas accordingly folded the letter up, and wrote upon the back, _Joseph Jones, Esq., Bristol._ When it was done, he laid it on the table. Amos came and took it up. "Jonas," said he, "I wish I could write as well as that." The farmer had a daughter whose name was Isabella. She was about eighteen years old. She was at this time spinning in a corner of the room, near a window. She came forward to look at the letter.