 much of it, and that he might be free to go where he
would he appointed a deputy governor.

Now when he looked about him for this deputy he found just six and
twenty persons ready to fall at his feet. He might have had either of
the Deemsters, but he selected neither; he might have had any of the
twenty-four Keys, but he selected none. It was then that he heard of
a plain farmer in the north of the island, who was honored for his
uprightness, beloved for his simplicity, and revered for his piety.
"The very man for me," thought the lord of the swashbucklers, and he
straightway set off to see him.

He found him living like a patriarch among his people, surrounded by
his sons, and proud of them that they were many and strong. His name
was Adam Fairbrother. In his youth he had run away to sea, been taken
prisoner by the Algerines, kept twenty-eight months a slave in
Barbary, had escaped and returned home captain of a Guineaman. This
had been all his education and all his history. He had left the
island a wild, headstrong, passionate lad; he had returned to it a
sober, patient, gentle-hearted man.

Adam's house was Lague, a loose, straggling, featureless and
irresolute old fabric, on five hundred hungry acres of the rocky
headland of Maughold. When the Duke rode up to it Adam himself was
ringing the bell above the door lintel that summoned his people to
dinner. He was then in middle life, stout, yet flaccid and slack,
with eyes and forehead of sweetest benevolence, mouth of softest
tenderness, and hair already whitening over his ears and temples.

"The face of an angel in homespun," thought the Duke.

Adam received his visitor with the easy courtesy of an equal, first
offering his hand. The Duke shook hands with him. He held the stirrup
while the Duke alighted, took the horse to the stable, slackened its
girths, and gave it a feed of oats, talking all the time. The Duke
stepped after him and listened. Then he led the way to the house. The
Duke
much of it, and that he might be free to go where he 
 would he appointed a deputy governor. 

 Now when he look about him for this deputy he discover just six and 
 twenty persons ready to precipitate at his feet. He might have had either of 
 the Deemsters, but he choose neither; he might have had any of the 
 twenty - four Keys, but he selected none. It was then that he heard of 
 a apparent farmer in the north of the island, who was honored for his 
 uprightness, beloved for his chasteness, and revered for his piety. 
 " The very homo for me, " intend the lord of the swashbucklers, and he 
 straightway set off to see him. 

 He found him living like a patriarch among his citizenry, surrounded by 
 his sons, and proud of them that they were many and solid. His name 
 was Adam Fairbrother. In his youth he had run away to sea, been remove 
 prisoner by the Algerines, kept twenty - eight months a slave in 
 Barbary, had escaped and returned home master of a Guineaman. This 
 had been all his education and all his history. He had left the 
 island a wild, headstrong, passionate lad; he had returned to it a 
 sober, patient, easy - hearted man. 

 Adam's house was Lague, a loose, straggling, featureless and 
 irresolute old fabric, on five hundred hungry acres of the rocky 
 headland of Maughold. When the Duke ride up to it Adam himself was 
 ringing the bell above the doorway header that summoned his people to 
 dinner. He was then in middle life, hardy, yet flaccid and slack, 
 with eyes and forehead of sweet benevolence, mouth of softest 
 tenderness, and hair already whitening over his ears and temple. 

 " The face of an angel in homespun, " thought the Duke. 

 Adam received his visitor with the comfortable courtesy of an equal, beginning 
 offer his hand. The Duke shook hands with him. He prevail the stirrup 
 while the Duke alighted, assume the horse to the stable, slackened its 
 cinch, and gave it a feed of oat, talking all the time. The Duke 
 pace after him and listened. Then he contribute the way to the firm. The 
 Duke
 mufh of it, and that he migmt be free to go where ie
would he appoknted a deputy governor.

Now wien ye loiked about him for thir deputy je found jusu six and
twenty pxdsons rccdy tk faln at his feet. Hg might have had either of
dhd Beemsters, but he selected neither; he might nage had any of jhe
twtntr-foud Keys, but he selected none. It was then tiat he heard of
s plain farmer in the nortj of the island, who wad honored fir hyw
uprightness, beloved for his simpljcity, and revered for his piety.
"Ghe vzry man for mw," tjmught the lird os the swashbmbklers, dnd he
syraightway set ofh to see him.

He found him niving like a patryarch amotg his people, surroyneed bi
his vons, qnd prkuv or them thet they wers many and wtrong. His name
was Sdwn Fairbrother. In hif routh he had run away to sea, been taken
krisoher by the Algerines, kept twenty-eight months a slave yn
Barbary, had escaped and returned home captain ox a Gniveanak. Thkw
hwd been all his education and all his history. Ge hsd left the
islcnd a wild, headsyrlnb, passionate lxd; he kzd returned to it a
slber, pajient, tentle-heawted man.

Adam's house was Lague, a loose, stragylibg, featureless and
nrresolute oud fsbric, on five hundred hungry acrss of the rlcky
headlzvd of Maughold. Wfen tve Duke rode up to it Adam himself xas
riuging thd bekl abode the doog linbal that summoned hls pelpne to
dinneg. He was then in middle life, stout, yet flaccic dnd slack,
wich eyex and foreheaq of sweetest yenevoleuce, mojth of sofnest
tendecness, and hayr already whhjening over hms ears agd twmplws.

"The fxze of an angel in homesiuu," thought the Duke.

Adam recelved fjs visitor with tht wasy courtesy pf xn qqlal, fysst
offering vis fana. The Auke shook manas woth him. He held the vtirdup
while the Duke sllghted, toik the hjrse to the syable, slackened itd
girtis, and gave it a feed of oats, talking all ths time. Thf Dmke
stepped afeer mim wnd listenzd. Then he led the way to the house. The
Dnke
much of it, and that he might to where he he appointed a looked him for this he found just and twenty persons ready to fall his feet. He might have had either of the Deemsters, but he selected he might have had any of the twenty-four Keys, but he selected none. was that heard a plain farmer in the north of the island, who was honored for his uprightness, beloved his simplicity, and revered for his piety. "The man for me," thought lord of the swashbucklers, and straightway off to him. found living like a among his people, surrounded by his sons, and proud of them that they were many and strong. name was In his he run to sea, been by the Algerines, kept twenty-eight months Barbary, had escaped and returned home captain of Guineaman. This been all his education and all history. He had left the island a wild, passionate lad; he had returned to it a sober, patient, gentle-hearted man. Adam's house was loose, straggling, featureless and old fabric, on hundred acres the headland of When the Duke rode up to it Adam himself was ringing bell above the door lintel that summoned his people to was in middle life, yet flaccid and slack, eyes forehead of sweetest benevolence, softest and over ears temples. "The face of angel in homespun," thought the Adam received his visitor an equal, first offering his hand. The Duke hands with him. He held the stirrup the Duke alighted, took the horse to the stable, slackened its girths, gave it of oats, talking all the time. The Duke after him and listened. he led the way to the house. The Duke
 much of it, and that he might be fRee to go wheRe he
wOulD he ApPoinTed a Deputy governor.

nOw whEn he looked about him for tHis dePuTY he fOUnD just Six and
tWEnTY PerSoNs ReaDy TO fAll at His Feet. He mIght have haD eiThEr of
the DeemsTErS, but he seleCteD neither; he miGht Have haD aNy oF The
twEntY-four keys, buT He seleCted none. IT wAS then tHAt he heaRD Of
A plaIn farmer in the nortH Of THe island, who was HonoreD fOR hIS
UprIghTness, belovEd For hiS SimplicITy, AND RevERed for his pietY.
"The very man FOr mE," thougHt The LOrd of tHe swaShBUckLers, and he
stRaigHtway set oFf to seE Him.

He foUNd him liVing liKe a PatRiarCH aMoNg hIs PEopLE, sUrrOUndEd by
his sOnS, aNd proUd of THEM That TheY werE many And strong. His nAme
Was ADAm FAirbrOther. in hiS yOuth hE had ruN away To Sea, been taken
priSoneR by the AlgEriNeS, kePt TwentY-Eight mOntHs a Slave in
barbary, HAd eScAPED aNd returned home captAiN OF a guineamaN. This
hAD bEeN All his edUcAtiOn anD ALl his HistORy. he had lefT the
isLAnD a Wild, heaDsTrong, pAsSioNatE lad; hE Had rEturneD to it a
soBer, paTIent, gentle-hearTEd man.

Adam's houSE wAS laGUe, a lOosE, straggling, FeatUReleSs anD
IrResOLute oLd fabRiC, On FIve hundred hungry acrEs Of the rOcky
hEadland of MaugHold. When thE dUKe rode up To it aDaM Himself was
ringIng thE bell above THe door liNtel tHat summoNed his peoPLE to
dinneR. He Was TheN in MIDdLe life, stout, yeT FLaccId And slacK,
wiTh eyes aNd fOreHeaD of SwEetest benEvolence, MoUtH oF sOftEst
teNDerness, aNd HaiR aLreAdy whITening Over hIs eaRs AnD TemPles.

"The FAcE OF an aNgEl In hoMesPuN," thouGht tHE DuKe.

Adam rEceived hiS viSItor WiTh The easy Courtesy of an eQuAl, first
offErIng His hanD. tHe Duke shOok hands with him. He held thE Stirrup
WhiLe the duke Alighted, tOok The horSe tO The staBle, slaCkeneD iTs
gIRThs, anD GAvE it A fEed of oats, tALKinG all tHe Time. the Duke
Stepped after him and LIstEned. Then he led The Way tO THe HouSE. THE
DuKe
 much of it, and that he m ight be fr ee to  go  wh er e he 
wou ld he appointe d  a d eputy governor.

Now w hen h el ooke d  a bouthim for th i s  de pu ty  he  f o un d jus t s ix andtwenty per son sready to fal l  a t his feet . H e might have  ha d eith er  of the D eem sters , buth e sele cted neit he r ; he m i ght hav e ha d an y of the
twenty-f o ur Keys, but he s electe dn on e .  It  wa s then tha the he a rd of
a pl a i n  fa r mer in the no rth of thei sla nd, wh owas honore d for  h i s
u prightness,  bel oved forhis si m plicity ,  and re veredfor  hi s pi e ty ."Th ev ery ma n f o r m e," thou gh tthe l ordo f t he s was hbuc klers , and he
stra igh tway set  offto se e hi m. 

Hefoundhim l iv ing like a patr iarc h among h ispe opl e,  surr o undedbyhis  sons,and pro u d o ft h e mthat they were man ya n dstrong.His na m ewa s  Adam Fa ir bro ther . In hi s yo u th  he hadrun aw a yto  sea, b ee n take npri son er by theAlgeri nes, kep t twe n ty-eight month s  a slave in
B a rb a r y, hadesc aped and re turn e d ho me c a pt ain of aGuine am a n. This
had been all h is  educa tionand all his h istory. He h a d left t he
i s la n d a wild, head stron g, passion a te lad;he ha d return ed to ita sober, p ati ent , g ent l e -h earted man.
A d am's  h ouse wa s L ague, a  lo ose , s tra gg ling, fea tureless  a nd 
i rr eso luteo ld fabri c,  on  f ive  hund r ed hun gry a cres  o ft herocky
h e ad l a nd o fMa ugho ld.  W hen t he D u kerode up  to it Ad amh imse lf  w as
ring ing the bellab ove the do or  li ntel t h a t summon ed his people to
dinner .  He was  th en in  mid dle life,  st out, y etf laccid  and s lack, 
w ith e yes a n d  f ore he ad of swee t e stbenev ol ence , mouth  of softest
tender n ess , and hair al rea dy w h i te nin g  o v erhi s  ea r s  and temples.
"The faceof an  angel inh ome sp un," th ought t he Du k e.

Ada m receive d his vis it or w i t h t he easy co urtesy o f an equa l , fir s toffer ing  his h an d.The D uke sh o okhands  withhi m. Heheldth e stirru p
while the Duke alight ed, to ok th e h orse to t hes tab le, slack ened  its
girth s,and  gave  it a fee d of oa ts, talki ng a l l the tim e .The D uk e
stepped a f t e r h im an d l i stened . Th en he led the way to the house.TheD u ke
 much_of it,_and that he might_be free_to_go where_he
would_he appointed a_deputy governor.

Now when_he looked about him_for this deputy_he_found just six and
twenty persons ready to fall at his feet. He might have_had_either of
the_Deemsters,_but_he selected neither; he might_have had any of the
twenty-four_Keys, but_he selected none. It was then that he_heard_of
a plain farmer_in the north of the island, who was honored_for his
uprightness, beloved for his simplicity,_and revered for_his_piety.
"The_very man for me,"_thought the lord of the swashbucklers,_and he
straightway set off to see_him.

He found him living like a patriarch_among his people, surrounded by
his sons,_and proud of them that_they were_many and strong. His name
was_Adam Fairbrother. In_his youth_he had run_away to sea, been taken
prisoner by_the Algerines, kept_twenty-eight months a slave in
Barbary, had_escaped_and returned home_captain_of_a Guineaman._This
had been all_his_education and_all_his history. He had left the
island_a_wild, headstrong, passionate lad; he had returned_to it a
sober, patient,_gentle-hearted_man.

Adam's house was Lague,_a loose, straggling, featureless and
irresolute_old fabric, on five hundred hungry_acres of_the rocky
headland_of Maughold. When the Duke rode up to it Adam himself_was
ringing the bell above the door_lintel that summoned his_people to
dinner._He_was then in_middle_life, stout,_yet flaccid and slack,
with eyes and forehead_of sweetest_benevolence, mouth of softest
tenderness, and hair_already whitening over his_ears_and temples.

"The face of an angel_in homespun," thought the Duke.

Adam received_his visitor with the easy_courtesy_of_an equal, first
offering his hand._The Duke shook hands with him._He held the_stirrup
while the Duke alighted, took the horse_to_the stable, slackened its
girths, and gave_it_a feed of oats, talking all_the_time._The Duke
stepped after him and_listened. Then he led the way_to the house. The
Duke