the error of all
those who, ignorantly, deal with that wary and sagacious people. He assumed a
disguise himself, that is, as well as he knew how, and proceeded step by step to
advance his purpose.
    The task of erecting the building had been unanimously transferred to Mr.
Jones and Hiram Doolittle. Together they had built the mansion-house, the
academy, and the jail; and they alone knew how to plan and rear such a structure
as was now required. Early in the day, these architects had made an equitable
division of their duties. To the former was assigned the duty of making all the
plans, and to the latter, the labour of superintending the execution.
    Availing himself of this advantage, Richard silently determined that the
windows should have the Roman arch; the first positive step in effecting his
wishes. As the building was made of bricks, he was enabled to conceal his
design, until the moment arrived for placing the frames: then, indeed, it became
necessary to act. He communicated his wishes to Hiram, with great caution; and
without in the least adverting to the spiritual part of his project, he pressed
the point a little warmly, on the score of architectural beauty. Hiram heard him
patiently, and without contradiction; but still Richard was unable to discover
the views of his coadjutor, on this interesting subject. As the right to plan
was duly delegated to Mr. Jones, no direct objection was made in words, but
numberless unexpected difficulties arose in the execution. At first, there was a
scarcity in the right kind of material necessary to form the frames; but this
objection was instantly silenced, by Richard running his pencil through two feet
of their length at one stroke. Then the expense was mentioned; but Richard
reminded Hiram that his cousin paid, and that he was his treasurer. This last
intimation had great weight, and, after a silent and protracted, but fruitless
opposition, the work was suffered to proceed on the original plan.
    The next difficulty occurred in the steeple, which Richard had modelled
after one of the smaller of those spires that adorn the great London Cathedral.
The imitation was somewhat lame, it is true, the proportions being but
indifferently observed; but, after much difficulty, Mr. Jones had the
satisfaction of seeing an object reared, that bore, in its outlines, a striking
resemblance to a vinegar-cruet. There was less opposition to this model than to
the windows, for the settlers were fond of novelty, and their steeple was
without a precedent.
    Here the labour ceased for the season