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+*Project Gutenberg's Etext of Paul Prescott's Charge, by Alger*
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+Paul Prescott's Charge
+
+by Horatio Alger
+
+July, 1995  [Etext #293]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg's Etext of Paul Prescott's Charge, by Alger
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+
+ALGER SERIES FOR BOYS.
+UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.
+BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
+{about 50 titles}
+
+
+
+TO
+The Boys
+WHOSE MEMORY GOES BACK WITH ME
+TO THE BOARDING SCHOOL
+AT POTOWOME
+THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
+BY
+THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+PREFACE
+----
+
+"PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE" is presented to
+the public as the second volume of the Campaign
+Series.  Though wholly unlike the first
+volume, it is written in furtherance of the same
+main idea, that every boy's life is a campaign,
+more or less difficult, in which success depends
+upon integrity and a steadfast adherence to duty.
+
+How Paul Prescott gained strength by
+battling with adverse circumstances, and, under
+all discouragements, kept steadily before him
+the charge which he received from his dying
+father, is fully told; and the author will be
+glad if the record shall prove an incentive and
+an encouragement to those boys who may have
+a similar campaign before them.
+
+
+
+PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+SQUIRE NEWCOME.
+
+
+"HANNAH!"
+
+The speaker was a tall, pompous-looking
+man, whose age appeared to verge close upon
+fifty.  He was sitting bolt upright in a high-
+backed chair, and looked as if it would be
+quite impossible to deviate from his position
+of unbending rigidity.
+
+Squire Benjamin Newcome, as he was
+called, in the right of his position as Justice
+of the Peace, Chairman of the Selectmen, and
+wealthiest resident of Wrenville, was a man
+of rule and measure.  He was measured in his
+walk, measured in his utterance, and measured
+in all his transactions.  He might be
+called a dignified machine.  He had a very
+exalted conception of his own position, and the
+respect which he felt to be his due, not only
+from his own household, but from all who
+approached him.  If the President of the United
+States had called upon him, Squire Newcome
+would very probably have felt that he himself
+was the party who conferred distinction, and
+not received it.
+
+Squire Newcome was a widower.  His wife,
+who was as different from himself as could well
+be conceived, did not live long after marriage. 
+She was chilled to death, as it was thought, by
+the dignified iceberg of whose establishment
+she had become a part.  She had left, however,
+a child, who had now grown to be a boy
+of twelve.  This boy was a thorn in the side
+of his father, who had endeavored in vain to
+mould him according to his idea of propriety. 
+But Ben was gifted with a spirit of fun, sometimes
+running into mischief, which was constantly
+bursting out in new directions, in spite
+of his father's numerous and rather prosy lectures.
+
+"Han-nah!" again called Squire Newcome,
+separating the two syllables by a pause of
+deliberation, and strongly accenting the last
+syllable,--a habit of his with all proper names.
+
+Hannah was the Irish servant of all work,
+who was just then engaged in mixing up bread
+in the room adjoining, which was the kitchen.
+
+Feeling a natural reluctance to appear
+before her employer with her hands covered with
+dough, she hastily washed them.  All this,
+however, took time, and before she responded
+to the first summons, the second "Han-nah!"
+delivered with a little sharp emphasis, had
+been uttered.
+
+At length she appeared at the door of the
+sitting-room.
+
+"Han-nah!" said Squire Newcome, fixing
+his cold gray eye upon her, "when you hear my
+voice a calling you, it is your duty to answer
+the summons IMMEJIATELY."
+
+I have endeavored to represent the Squire's
+pronunciation of the last word.
+
+"So I would have come IMMEJOUSLY," said
+Hannah, displaying a most reprehensible
+ignorance, "but me hands were all covered
+with flour."
+
+"That makes no difference," interrupted the
+Squire.  "Flour is an accidental circumstance."
+
+"What's that?" thought Hannah, opening
+her eyes in amazement.
+
+"And should not be allowed to interpose an
+obstacle to an IMMEJIATE answer to my summons."
+
+"Sir," said Hannah, who guessed at the
+meaning though she did not understand the
+words, "you wouldn't have me dirty the door-
+handle with me doughy hands?"
+
+"That could easily be remedied by ablution."
+
+"There ain't any ablution in the house,"
+said the mystified Hannah.
+
+"I mean," Squire Newcome condescended
+to explain, "the application of water--in
+short, washing."
+
+"Shure," said Hannah, as light broke in
+upon her mind, "I never knew that was what
+they called it before."
+
+"Is Ben-ja-min at home?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  He was out playin' in the yard
+a minute ago.  I guess you can see him from
+the winder."
+
+So saying she stepped forward, and looking
+out, all at once gave a shrill scream, and
+rushed from the room, leaving her employer
+in his bolt-upright attitude gazing after
+her with as much astonishment as he was
+capable of.
+
+The cause of her sudden exit was revealed
+on looking out of the window.
+
+Master Benjamin, or Ben, as he was called
+everywhere except in his own family, had got
+possession of the black kitten, and appeared to
+be submerging her in the hogshead of rainwater.
+
+"O, you wicked, cruel boy, to drown poor
+Kitty!" exclaimed the indignant Hannah,
+rushing into the yard and endeavoring to
+snatch her feline favorite--an attempt which
+Ben stoutly resisted.
+
+Doubtless the poor kitten would have fared
+badly between the two, had not the window
+opened, and the deliberate voice of his father,
+called out in tones which Ben saw fit to heed.
+
+"What?"
+
+"Come into my presence immejiately, and
+learn to answer me with more respect."
+
+Ben came in looking half defiant.
+
+His father, whose perpendicularity made
+him look like a sitting grenadier, commenced
+the examination thus:--
+
+"I wish you to inform me what you was a
+doing of when I spoke to you."
+
+It will be observed that the Squire's dignified
+utterances were sometimes a little at variance
+with the rule of the best modern grammarians.
+
+"I was trying to prevent Hannah from
+taking the kitten," said Ben.
+
+"What was you a doing of before Hannah
+went out?"
+
+"Playing with Kitty."
+
+"Why were you standing near the hogshead, Benjamin?"
+
+"Why," said Ben, ingenuously, "the
+hogshead happened to be near me--that was all."
+
+"Were you not trying to drown the kitten?"
+
+"O, I wouldn't drown her for anything,"
+said Ben with an injured expression, mentally
+adding, "short of a three-cent piece."
+
+"Then, to repeat my interrogatory, what
+was you a doing of with the kitten in the hogshead?"
+
+"I was teaching her to swim," said Ben,
+looking out of the corner of his eye at his
+father, to see what impression this explanation
+made upon him.
+
+"And what advantageous result do you
+think would be brought about by teaching of
+the kitten to swim, Benjamin?" persisted his
+father.
+
+"Advantageous result!" repeated Ben,
+demurely, pretending not to understand.
+
+"Certingly."
+
+"What does that mean?"
+
+"Do you not study your dictionary at
+school, Benjamin?"
+
+"Yes, but I don't like it much."
+
+"You are very much in error.  You will
+never learn to employ your tongue with elegance
+and precision, unless you engage in this
+beneficial study."
+
+"I can use my tongue well enough, without
+studying grammar," said Ben.  He proceeded
+to illustrate the truth of this assertion
+by twisting his tongue about in a comical
+manner.
+
+"Tongue," exclaimed his father, "is but
+another name for language I mean your
+native language."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+Ben was about to leave the room to avoid
+further questions of an embarrassing nature,
+when his father interrupted his exit by saying--
+
+"Stay, Benjamin, do not withdraw till I
+have made all the inquiries which I intend."
+
+The boy unwillingly returned.
+
+"You have not answered my question."
+
+"I've forgotten what it was."
+
+"What good would it do?" asked the
+Squire, simplifying his speech to reach Ben's
+comprehension, "what good would it do to
+teach the kitten to swim?"
+
+"O, I thought," said Ben, hesitating, "that
+some time or other she might happen to fall
+into the water, and might not be able to get
+out unless she knew how."
+
+"I think," said his father with an unusual
+display of sagacity, "that she will be in much
+greater hazard of drowning while learning to
+swim under your direction than by any other
+chance likely to befall her."
+
+"Shouldn't wonder," was Ben's mental comment,
+"Pretty cute for you, dad."
+
+Fortunately, Ben did not express his
+thoughts aloud.  They would have implied
+such an utter lack of respect that the Squire
+would have been quite overwhelmed by the
+reflection that his impressive manners had
+produced no greater effect on one who had so
+excellent a chance of being impressed by them.
+
+"Benjamin," concluded his father, "I have
+an errand for you to execute.  You may go to
+Mr. Prescott's and see if he is yet living.  I
+hear that he is a lying on the brink of the
+grave."
+
+An expression of sadness stole over the
+usually merry face of Ben, as he started on his
+errand.
+
+"Poor Paul!" he thought, "what will he do
+when his father dies?  He's such a capital
+fellow, too.  I just wish I had a wagon load
+of money, I do, and I'd give him half.  That's
+so!"
+
+
+
+II.
+
+PAUL PRESCOTT'S HOME.
+
+
+We will precede Ben on his visit to the house
+of Mr. Prescott.
+
+It was an old weather-beaten house, of one
+story, about half a mile distant from 'Squire
+Newcome's residence.  The Prescott family
+had lived here for five years, or ever since they
+had removed to Wrenville.  Until within a
+year they had lived comfortably, when two
+blows came in quick succession.  The first was
+the death of Mrs. Prescott, an excellent woman,
+whose loss was deeply felt by her husband
+and son.  Soon afterwards Mr. Prescott, a
+carpenter by trade, while at work upon the
+roof of a high building, fell off, and not only
+broke his leg badly, but suffered some internal
+injury of a still more serious nature.  He had
+not been able to do a stroke of work since. 
+After some months it became evident that he
+would never recover.  A year had now passed. 
+During this time his expenses had swallowed
+up the small amount which he had succeeded
+in laying up previous to his sickness.  It was
+clear that at his death there would be nothing
+left.  At thirteen years of age Paul would have
+to begin the world without a penny.
+
+Mr. Prescott lay upon a bed in a small bedroom
+adjoining the kitchen.  Paul, a thoughtful-
+looking boy sat beside it, ready to answer
+his call.
+
+There had been silence for some time, when
+Mr. Prescott called feebly--
+
+"Paul!"
+
+"I am here, father," said Paul.
+
+"I am almost gone, Paul, I don't think I
+shall last through the day."
+
+"O, father," said Paul, sorrowfully, "Don't
+leave me."
+
+"That is the only grief I have in dying--I
+must leave you to struggle for yourself, Paul. 
+I shall be able to leave you absolutely nothing."
+
+"Don't think of that, father.  I am young
+and strong--I can earn my living in some
+way."
+
+"I hoped to live long enough to give you
+an education.  I wanted you to have a fairer
+start in the world than I had."
+
+"Never mind, father," said Paul, soothingly,
+"Don't be uneasy about me.  God will provide
+for me."
+
+Again there was a silence, broken only by
+the difficult breathing of the sick man.
+
+He spoke again.
+
+"There is one thing, Paul, that I want to
+tell you before I die."
+
+Paul drew closer to the bedside.
+
+"It is something which has troubled me as
+I lay here.  I shall feel easier for speaking of
+it.  You remember that we lived at Cedarville
+before we came here."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"About two years before we left there, a
+promising speculation was brought to my
+notice.  An agent of a Lake Superior mine
+visited our village and represented the mine in
+so favorable a light that many of my neighbors
+bought shares, fully expecting to double their
+money in a year.  Among the rest I was attacked
+with the fever of speculation.  I had
+always been obliged to work hard for a moderate
+compensation, and had not been able to
+do much more than support my family.  This
+it seemed to me, afforded an excellent opportunity
+of laying up a little something which
+might render me secure in the event of a sudden
+attack of sickness.  I had but about two
+hundred dollars, however, and from so scanty
+an investment I could not, of course, expect a
+large return; accordingly I went to Squire
+Conant; you remember him, Paul?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+`I went to him and asked a loan of five hundred
+dollars.  After some hesitation he agreed
+to lend it to me.  He was fond of his money
+and not much given to lending, but it so happened
+that he had invested in the same speculation,
+and had a high opinion of it, so he felt
+pretty safe in advancing me the money.  Well,
+this loan gave me seven hundred dollars, with
+which I purchased seven shares in the Lake
+Superior Grand Combination Mining Company. 
+For some months afterwards, I felt
+like a rich man.  I carefully put away my
+certificate of stock, looking upon it as the
+beginning of a competence.  But at the end of six
+months the bubble burst--the stock proved to
+be utterly worthless,--Squire Conant lost five
+thousand dollars.  I lost seven hundred, five
+hundred being borrowed money.  The Squire's
+loss was much larger, but mine was the more
+serious, since I lost everything and was
+plunged into debt, while he had at least forty
+thousand dollars left.
+
+"Two days after the explosion, Squire
+Conant came into my shop and asked abruptly
+when I could pay him the amount I had borrowed. 
+I told him that I could not fix a time. 
+I said that I had been overwhelmed by a result
+so contrary to my anticipations, but I told
+him I would not rest till I had done something
+to satisfy his claim.  He was always an
+unreasonable man, and reproached me bitterly
+for sinking his money in a useless speculation,
+as if I could foresee how it would end any better
+than he."
+
+"Have you ever been able to pay back any
+part of the five hundred dollars, father?"
+
+"I have paid the interest regularly, and a
+year ago, just before I met with my accident,
+I had laid up a hundred and fifty dollars which
+I had intended to pay the Squire, but when my
+sickness came I felt obliged to retain it to defray
+our expenses, being cut off from earning
+anything"
+
+"Then I suppose you have not been able to
+pay interest for the last year."
+
+"No."
+
+"Have you heard from the Squire lately?"
+
+"Yes, I had a letter only last week.  You
+remember bringing me one postmarked Cedarville?"
+
+"Yes, I wondered at the time who it could
+be from."
+
+"You will find it on the mantelpiece.  I
+should like to have you get it and read it."
+
+Paul readily found the letter.  It was
+enclosed in a brown envelope, directed in a bold
+hand to "Mr. John Prescott, Wrenville."
+
+The letter was as follows:--
+
+
+CEDARVILLE, APRIL 15, 18--,
+MR. JOHN PRESCOTT:--
+
+SIR:  I have been waiting impatiently to hear something
+about the five hundred dollars in which sum you are indebted
+to me, on account of a loan which I was fool enough to make
+you seven years since.  I thought you an honest man, but I
+have found, to my cost, that I was mistaken.  For the last
+year you have even failed to pay interest as stipulated between
+us.  Your intention is evident.  I quite understand that you
+have made up your mind to defraud me of what is rightfully
+mine.  I don't know how you may regard this, but I consider
+it as bad as highway robbery.  I do not hesitate to say that
+if you had your deserts you would be in the Penitentiary. 
+Let me advise you, if you wish to avoid further trouble, to
+make no delay in paying a portion of this debt.
+                         Yours, etc.
+                                   EZEKIEL CONANT.
+
+
+Paul's face flushed with indignation as he
+read this bitter and cruel letter.
+
+"Does Squire Conant know that you are
+sick, father?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes, I wrote him about my accident, telling
+him at the same time that I regretted it in
+part on account of the interruption which it
+must occasion in my payments."
+
+"And knowing this, he wrote such a letter
+as that," said Paul, indignantly, "what a hard,
+unfeeling wretch he must be!"
+
+"I suppose it is vexatious to him to be kept
+out of his money."
+
+"But he has plenty more.  He would never
+miss it if he had given it to you outright."
+
+"That is not the way to look at it, Paul. 
+The money is justly his, and it is a great sorrow
+to me that I must die without paying it."
+
+"Father," said Paul, after a pause, "will it
+be any relief to you, if I promise to pay it,--
+that is, if I am ever able?"
+
+Mr. Prescott's face brightened.
+
+"That was what I wanted to ask you, Paul. 
+It will be a comfort to me to feel thar there is
+some hope of the debt being paid at some
+future day."
+
+"Then don't let it trouble you any longer,
+father.  The debt shall be mine, and I will pay
+it.
+
+Again a shadow passed over the sick man's
+face, "Poor boy," he said, "why should I
+burden your young life with such a load?  You
+will have to struggle hard enough as it is.  No,
+Paul, recall your promise.  I don't want to
+purchase comfort at such a price."
+
+"No, father," said Paul sturdily, "it is too
+late now.  I have made the promise and I mean
+to stick to it.  Besides, it will give me something
+to live for.  I am young--I may have a
+great many years before me.  For thirteen
+years you have supported me.  It is only right
+that I should make what return I can.  I'll
+keep my promise, father."
+
+"May God help and prosper you, my boy,"
+said Mr. Prescott, solemnly.  "You've been a
+good son; I pray that you may grow up to be a
+good man.  But, my dear, I feel tired.  I think
+I will try to go to sleep."
+
+Paul smoothed the comforter, adjusting it
+carefully about his father's neck, and going
+to the door went out in search of some wood
+to place upon the fire.  Their scanty stock of
+firewood was exhausted, and Paul was obliged
+to go into the woods near by, to obtain such
+loose fagots as he might find upon the ground.
+
+He was coming back with his load when his
+attention was drawn by a whistle.  Looking up
+he discovered Ben Newcome approaching him.
+
+"How are you, Paul?"
+
+"Pretty well, Ben."
+
+"How precious lonesome you must be,
+mewed up in the house all the time."
+
+"Yes, it is lonesome, but I wouldn't mind
+that if I thought father would ever get any
+better."
+
+"How is he this morning?"
+
+"Pretty low; I expect he is asleep.  He said
+he was tired just before I went out."
+
+"I brought over something for you," said
+Ben, tugging away at his pocket.
+
+Opening a paper he displayed a couple of
+apple turnovers fried brown.
+
+"I found 'em in the closet," he said.
+
+"Won't Hannah make a precious row when
+she finds 'em gone?"
+
+"Then I don't know as I ought to take
+them," said Paul, though, to tell the truth,
+they looked tempting to him.
+
+"O, nonsense," said Ben; "they don't belong
+to Hannah.  She only likes to scold a
+little; it does her good."
+
+The two boys sat on the doorstep and talked
+while Paul ate the turnovers.  Ben watched
+the process with much satisfaction.
+
+"Ain't they prime?" he said.
+
+"First rate," said Paul; `won't you have
+one?"
+
+"No," said Ben; "you see I thought while
+I was about it I might as well take four, so I
+ate two coming along."
+
+In about fifteen minutes Paul went into the
+house to look at his father.  He was lying very
+quietly upon the bed.  Paul drew near and
+looked at him more closely.  There was something
+in the expression of his father's face
+which terrified him.
+
+Ben heard his sudden cry of dismay, and
+hurriedly entered.
+
+Paul pointed to the bed, and said briefly,
+"Father's dead!"
+
+Ben, who in spite of his mischievous
+propensities was gifted with a warm heart, sat
+down beside Paul, and passing his arm round
+his neck, gave him that silent sympathy which
+is always so grateful to the grief-stricken heart.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+PAUL'S BRILLIANT PROSPECTS.
+
+
+Two days later, the funeral of Mr. Prescott
+took place.
+
+Poor Paul!  It seemed to him a dream of
+inexpressible sorrow.  His father and mother
+both gone, he felt that he was indeed left alone
+in the world.  No thought of the future had
+yet entered his mind.  He was wholly occupied
+with his present sorrow.  Desolate at heart he
+slipped away from the graveyard after the
+funeral ceremony was over, and took his way
+back again to the lonely dwelling which he had
+called home.
+
+As he was sitting in the corner, plunged in
+sorrowful thought, there was a scraping heard
+at the door, and a loud hem!
+
+Looking up, Paul saw entering the cottage
+the stiff form of Squire Benjamin Newcome,
+who, as has already been stated, was the
+owner.
+
+"Paul," said the Squire, with measured deliberation.
+
+"Do you mean me, sir?" asked Paul,
+vaguely conscious that his name had been called.
+
+"Did I not address you by your baptismal
+appellation?" demanded the Squire, who
+thought the boy's question superfluous.
+
+"Paul," pursued Squire Newcome, "have
+you thought of your future destination?"
+
+"No, sir," said Paul, "I suppose I shall live here."
+
+"That arrangement would not be consistent
+with propriety.  I suppose you are aware that
+your deceased parent left little or no worldly
+goods."
+
+"I know he was poor."
+
+"Therefore it has been thought best that
+you should be placed in charge of a worthy
+man, who I see is now approaching the house. 
+You will therefore accompany him without
+resistance.  If you obey him and read the
+Bible regularly, you will--ahem!--you will
+some time or other see the advantage of it."
+
+With this consolatory remark Squire Newcome
+wheeled about and strode out of the
+house.
+
+Immediately afterwards there entered a
+rough-looking man arrayed in a farmer's blue frock.
+
+"You're to come with me, youngster," said
+Mr. Nicholas Mudge, for that was his name.
+
+"With you?" said Paul, recoiling instinctively.
+
+In fact there was nothing attractive in the
+appearance or manners of Mr. Mudge.  He had
+a coarse hard face, while his head was surmounted
+by a shock of red hair, which to all
+appearance had suffered little interference
+from the comb for a time which the observer
+would scarcely venture to compute.  There
+was such an utter absence of refinement about
+the man, that Paul, who had been accustomed
+to the gentle manners of his father, was repelled
+by the contrast which this man exhibited.
+
+"To be sure you're to go with me," said Mr.
+Mudge.  "You did not calc'late you was a
+goin' to stay here by yourself, did you?  We've
+got a better place for you than that.  But the
+wagon's waitin' outside, so just be lively and
+bundle in, and I'll carry you to where you're
+a goin' to live."
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"Wal, some folks call it the Poor House, but
+it ain't any the worse for that, I expect.  Anyhow,
+them as has no money may feel themselves
+lucky to get so good a home.  So jest be
+a movin', for I can't be a waitin' here all day."
+
+Paul quietly submitted himself to the guidance
+of Mr. Mudge.  He was so occupied with
+the thought of his sad loss that he did not
+realize the change that was about to take
+place in his circumstances.
+
+About half a mile from the village in the
+bleakest and most desolate part of the town,
+stood the Poor House.  It was a crazy old
+building of extreme antiquity, which, being no
+longer considered fit for an ordinary dwelling-
+house, had been selected as a suitable residence
+for the town's poor.  It was bleak and comfortless
+to be sure, but on that very account
+had been purchased at a trifling expense, and
+that was, of course, a primary consideration. 
+Connected with the house were some dozen
+acres of rough-looking land, plentifully over-
+spread with stones, which might have filled
+with despair the most enterprising agriculturist. 
+However, it had this recommendation at
+least, that it was quite in character with the
+buildings upon it, which in addition to the
+house already described, consisted of a barn
+of equal antiquity and a pig pen.
+
+This magnificent domain was under the
+superintendence of Mr. Nicholas Mudge, who in
+consideration of taking charge of the town
+paupers had the use of the farm and buildings,
+rent free, together with a stipulated weekly
+sum for each of the inmates.
+
+"Well, Paul," said Mr. Mudge, as they
+approached the house, in a tone which was meant
+to be encouraging, "this is goin' to be your
+home.  How do you like it?"
+
+Thus addressed, Paul ventured a glance around him.
+
+`I don't know," said he, doubtfully;
+"it don't look very pleasant."
+
+"Don't look very pleasant!" repeated Mr.
+Mudge in a tone of mingled amazement and
+indignation.  "Well, there's gratitude for you. 
+After the town has been at the expense of providin'
+a nice, comfortable home for you, because
+you haven't got any of your own, you
+must turn up your nose at it."
+
+"I didn't mean to complain," said Paul,
+feeling very little interest in the matter.
+
+"Perhaps you expected to live in a marble
+palace," pursued Mr. Mudge, in an injured
+tone.  "We don't have any marble palaces in
+this neighborhood, we don't."
+
+Paul disclaimed any such anticipation.
+
+Mr. Mudge deigned to accept Paul's apology,
+and as they had now reached the door,
+unceremoniously threw it open, and led the way
+into a room with floor unpainted, which, to
+judge from its appearance, was used as a
+kitchen.
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+LIFE IN A NEW PHASE.
+
+
+Everything was "at sixes and sevens," as
+the saying is, in the room Mr. Mudge and Paul
+had just entered.  In the midst of the scene
+was a large stout woman, in a faded calico
+dress, and sleeves rolled up, working as if her
+life or the world's destiny depended upon it.
+
+It was evident from the first words of Mr.
+Mudge that this lady was his helpmeet.
+
+"Well, wife," he said, "I've brought you
+another boarder.  You must try to make him as
+happy and contented as the rest of 'em are."
+
+From the tone of the speaker, the last words
+might be understood to be jocular.
+
+Mrs. Mudge, whose style of beauty was not
+improved by a decided squint, fixed a scrutinizing
+gaze upon Paul, and he quite naturally
+returned it.
+
+"Haven't you ever seen anybody before,
+boy?  I guess you'll know me next time."
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if he did," chuckled Mr. Mudge.
+
+"I don't know where on earth we shall put
+him," remarked the lady.  "We're full now."
+
+"Oh, put him anywhere.  I suppose you won't be
+very particular about your accommodations?"
+said Mr. Mudge turning to Paul.
+
+Paul very innocently answered in the negative,
+thereby affording Mr. Mudge not a little amusement.
+
+"Well, that's lucky," he said, "because our
+best front chamber's occupied just now.  We'd
+have got it ready for you if you'd only wrote a
+week ago to tell us you were coming.  You
+can just stay round here," he said in a different
+tone as he was about leaving the room,
+"Mrs. Mudge will maybe want you to do something
+for her.  You can sit down till she calls on you."
+
+It was washing day with Mrs. Mudge, and
+of course she was extremely busy.  The water
+was to be brought from a well in the yard, and
+to this office Paul was at once delegated.  It
+was no easy task, the full pails tugging most
+unmercifully at his arms.  However, this was
+soon over, and Mrs. Mudge graciously gave
+him permission to go into the adjoining room,
+and make acquaintance with his fellow-boarders.
+
+There were nine of them in all, Paul, the
+newcomer making the tenth.  They were all
+advanced in years, except one young woman,
+who was prevented by mental aberration from
+supporting herself outside the walls of
+the Institution.
+
+Of all present, Paul's attention was most
+strongly attracted towards one who appeared
+more neatly and scrupulously attired than any
+of the rest.
+
+Aunt Lucy Lee, or plain Aunt Lucy, for in
+her present abode she had small use for her
+last name, was a benevolent-looking old lady,
+who both in dress and manners was distinguished
+from her companions.  She rose from
+her knitting, and kindly took Paul by the hand. 
+Children are instinctive readers of character,
+and Paul, after one glance at her benevolent
+face, seated himself contentedly beside her.
+
+"I suppose," said the old lady, socially,
+"you've come to live with us.  We must do all
+we can to make you comfortable.  Your name
+is Paul Prescott, I think Mrs. Mudge said."
+
+"Yes, ma'am" answered Paul, watching the
+rapid movement of the old lady's fingers.
+
+"Mine is Aunt Lucy," she continued, "that
+is what everybody calls me.  So now we know
+each other, and shall soon be good friends, I
+hope.  I suppose you have hardly been here
+long enough to tell how you shall like it."
+
+Paul confessed that thus far he did not find
+it very pleasant.
+
+"No, I dare say not," said Aunt Lucy, "I
+can't say I think it looks very attractive
+myself.  However, it isn't wholly the fault of Mr.
+and Mrs. Mudge.  They can't afford to do
+much better, for the town allows them very little."
+
+Aunt Lucy's remarks were here interrupted
+by the apparition of the worthy landlady at
+the door.
+
+"Dinner's ready, folks," said that lady, with
+little ceremony, "and you must come out
+quick if you want any, for I'm drove with
+work, and can't be hindered long."
+
+The summons was obeyed with alacrity, and
+the company made all haste to the dining-room,
+or rather the kitchen, for it was here that the
+meals were eaten.
+
+In the center of the room was set a table
+without a cloth, a table-cloth being considered
+a luxury quite superfluous.  Upon this were
+placed several bowls of thin, watery liquid,
+intended for soup, but which, like city milk, was
+diluted so as hardly to be distinguishable. 
+Beside each bowl was a slice of bread.
+
+Such was the bill of fare.
+
+"Now, folks, the sooner you fall to the
+better," exclaimed the energetic Mrs. Mudge, who
+was one of those driving characters, who
+consider any time spent at the table beyond ten
+minutes as so much time wasted.
+
+The present company appeared to need no
+second invitation.  Their scanty diet had the
+positive advantage of giving them a good
+appetite; otherwise the quality of their food
+might have daunted them.
+
+Paul took his place beside Aunt Lucy. 
+Mechanically he did as the rest, carrying to his
+mouth a spoonful of the liquid.  But his appetite
+was not sufficiently accustomed to Poor House regime
+to enable him to relish its standing dish, and he laid
+down his spoon with a disappointed look.
+
+He next attacked the crust of bread, but
+found it too dry to be palatable.
+
+"Please, ma'am," said he to Mrs. Mudge,
+"I should like some butter."
+
+Paul's companions dropped their spoons in
+astonishment at his daring, and Mrs. Mudge
+let fall a kettle she was removing from the fire,
+in sheer amazement.
+
+"What did you ask for?" she inquired, as if
+to make sure that her ears did not deceive her.
+
+"A little butter," repeated Paul, unconscious
+of the great presumption of which he had been guilty.
+
+"You want butter, do you?" repeated Mr. Mudge.
+"Perhaps you'd like a slice of beefsteak
+and a piece of plum-pudding too, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I should very much," said Paul, resolved
+to tell the truth, although he now began to
+perceive the sarcasm in his landlady's tone.
+
+"There isn't anything more you would like,
+is there?" inquired the lady, with mock politeness.
+
+"No, ma'am," returned Paul after a pause,
+"I believe not, to-day."
+
+"Very moderate, upon my word," exclaimed
+Mrs. Mudge, giving vent at length to her pent-
+up indignation.  "You'll be contented with
+butter and roast beef and plum-pudding!  A
+mighty fine gentleman, to be sure.  But you
+won't get them here, I'll be bound."
+
+"So will I," thought Aunt Lucy.
+
+"If you ain't satisfied with what I give you,"
+pursued Mrs. Mudge, "you'd better go somewhere
+else.  You can put up at some of the
+great hotels.  Butter, forsooth!"
+
+Having thus given expression to her feelings,
+she left the room, and Paul was left to
+finish his dinner with the best appetite he could
+command.  He was conscious that he had offended
+Mrs. Mudge, but the thoughts of his recent great
+sorrow swallowed up all minor annoyances, so that
+the words of his estimable landlady were forgotten
+almost as soon as they were uttered.  He felt that
+he must henceforth look for far different treatment
+from that to which he had been accustomed during his
+father's lifetime.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted in a manner
+somewhat ludicrous, by the crazy girl who sat
+next to him coolly appropriating to herself his
+bowl of soup, having already disposed of her own.
+
+"Look," said Aunt Lucy, quickly, calling
+Paul's attention, "you are losing your dinner."
+
+"Never mind," said Paul, amused in spite of
+his sadness, "she is quite welcome to it if she
+likes it; I can't eat it."
+
+So the dinner began and ended.  It was very
+brief and simple, occupying less than ten
+minutes, and comprising only one course--
+unless the soup was considered the first course,
+and the bread the second.  Paul left the table
+as hungry as he came to it.  Aunt Lucy's appetite
+had become accustomed to the Mudge diet,
+and she wisely ate what was set before her,
+knowing that there was no hope of anything better.
+
+About an hour after dinner Ben Newcome came
+to the door of the Poor House and inquired for Paul.
+
+Mrs. Mudge was in one of her crusty moods.
+
+"You can't see him," said she.
+
+"And why not?" said Ben, resolutely.
+
+"Because he's busy."
+
+"You'd better let me see him," said Ben, sturdily.
+
+"I should like to know what's going to happen
+if I don't," said Mrs. Mudge, with wrathful
+eyes, and arms akimbo.
+
+"I shall go home and report to my father,"
+said Ben, coolly.
+
+"Who is your father?" asked Mrs. Mudge,
+for she did not recognize her visitor.
+
+"My father's name is Newcome--Squire Newcome,
+some call him."
+
+Now it so happened that Squire Newcome
+was Chairman of the Overseers of the Poor,
+and in that capacity might remove Mr. Mudge
+from office if he pleased.  Accordingly Mrs.
+Mudge softened down at once, on learning that
+Ben was his son.
+
+"Oh," said she, "I didn't know who it was.
+I thought it might be some idle boy from the
+village who would only take Paul from his
+work, but if you have a message from your father----"
+
+This she said to ascertain whether he really
+had any message or not, but Ben, who had
+in fact come without his father's knowledge,
+only bowed, and said, in a patronizing manner,
+"I accept your apology, Mrs. Mudge. 
+Will you have the goodness to send Paul out?"
+
+"Won't you step in?" asked Mrs. Mudge
+with unusual politeness.
+
+"No, I believe not."
+
+Paul was accordingly sent out.
+
+He was very glad to meet his schoolmate and
+playfellow, Ben, who by his gayety, spiced
+though it was with roguery, had made himself
+a general favorite in school.
+
+"I say, Paul," said Ben, "I'm sorry to find
+you in such a place."
+
+"It isn't very pleasant," said Paul, rather soberly.
+
+"And that woman--Mrs. Mudge--she looks
+as if she might be a regular spitfire, isn't she?"
+
+"Rather so."
+
+"I only wish the old gentleman--meaning
+of course, the Squire--would take you to live
+with me.  I want a fellow to play with.  But
+I say, Paul, go and get your hat, and we'll go
+out for a walk."
+
+"I don't know what Mrs. Mudge will say,"
+said Paul, who had just come from turning
+the handle of a churn.
+
+"Just call Mrs. Mudge, and I'll manage it."
+
+Mrs. Mudge being summoned, made her
+appearance at the door.
+
+"I presume, ma'am," said Ben, confidently,
+"you will have no objection to Paul's taking
+a walk with me while I deliver the message I
+am entrusted with."
+
+"Certainly," said Mrs. Mudge, rather
+unwillingly, but not venturing to refuse.
+
+"It takes me to come it over the old lady,"
+said Ben, when they were out of hearing.
+
+"Now, we'll go a fishing."
+
+
+V.
+
+A CRISIS.
+
+
+Before sunrise the next morning Paul was
+awakened by a rude shake from Mr. Mudge,
+with an intimation that he had better get up,
+as there was plenty of work before him.
+
+By the light of the lantern, for as yet it was
+too dark to dispense with it, Paul dressed himself. 
+Awakened from a sound sleep, he hardly
+had time to collect his thoughts, and it was
+with a look of bewilderment that he surveyed
+the scene about him.  As Mrs. Mudge had said,
+they were pretty full already, and accordingly
+a rude pallet had been spread for him in the
+attic, of which, with the exception of nocturnal
+marauders, he was the only occupant.  Paul
+had not, to be sure, been used to very superior
+accommodations, and if the bed had not been
+quite so hard, he would have got along very
+well.  As it was he was separated from slats
+only by a thin straw bed which did not improve
+matters much.  It was therefore with a
+sense of weariness which slumber had not
+dissipated, that Paul arose at the summons
+of Mr. Mudge.
+
+When he reached the kitchen, he found that
+gentleman waiting for him.
+
+"Do you know how to milk?" was his first salutation.
+
+"I never learned," said Paul.
+
+"Then you'll have to, in double-quick time,"
+was the reply, "for I don't relish getting up so
+early, and you can take it off my hands."
+
+The two proceeded to the barn, where Paul
+received his first lesson in this important
+branch of education.
+
+Mr. Mudge kept five cows.  One might have
+thought he could have afforded a moderate
+supply of milk to his boarders, but all, with
+the exception of a single quart, was sold to the
+milkman who passed the door every morning.
+
+After breakfast, which was on the same
+economical plan with the dinner of the day
+previous, Paul was set to work planting potatoes,
+at which he was kept steadily employed
+till the dinner-hour.
+
+Poor Paul! his back ached dreadfully, for he
+had never before done any harder work than
+trifiing services for his father.  But the
+inexorable Mr. Mudge was in sight, and however
+much he wished, he did not dare to lay aside
+his hoe even for a moment.
+
+Twelve o'clock found him standing beside
+the dinner-table.  He ate more heartily than
+before, for his forenoon's labor made even
+poorhouse fare palatable.
+
+Mrs. Mudge observed the change, and remarked
+in a satisfied tone.  "Well, my fine
+gentleman, I see you are coming to your
+appetite.  I thought you wouldn't hold out long."
+
+Paul, who had worn off something of his
+diffidence, could not help feeling indignant at
+this speech; unaccustomed to be addressed in
+this way, the taunt jarred upon his feelings,
+but he only bit his lip and preserved silence.
+
+Aunt Lucy, too, who had come to feel a
+strong interest in Paul, despite her natural
+mildness, could not resist the temptation of
+saying with some warmth, "what's the use of
+persecuting the child?  He has sorrows enough
+of his own without your adding to them."
+
+Mrs. Mudge was not a little incensed at this remonstrance.
+
+"I should like to know, ma'am, who
+requested you to put in your oar!" she said with
+arms akimbo.  "Anybody wouldn't think from
+your lofty airs that you lived in the poorhouse; 
+
+I'll thank you to mind your own business in the future,
+and not meddle with what don't concern you."
+
+Aunt Lucy was wise enough to abstain from provoking
+further the wrath of her amiable landlady,
+and continued to eat her soup in silence.
+But Mrs. Mudge neer forgot this interference,
+nor the cause of it, and henceforth with the
+malignity of a narrow-minded and spiteful woman,
+did what she could to make Paul uncomfortable.
+Her fertile ingenuity always found some new taunt,
+or some new reproach, to assail him with. But Paul,
+though at first he felt indignant, learned at last
+to treat them as they deserved, with silent disdain.
+Assured of the sympathy of those around him, he did
+not allow his appetite to be spoiled by any remark
+which Mrs. Mudge might offer.
+
+This, of course, only provoked her the more,
+and she strove to have his daily tasks increased,
+in the amiable hope that his "proud spirit"
+might be tamed thereby.
+
+Mr. Mudge, who was somewhat under petticoat government,
+readily acceded to his wife's wishes, and henceforth
+Paul's strength was taxed to its utmost limit.
+He was required to be up with the first gray tint
+of dawn and attend to the cattle.  From this time until
+night, except the brief time devoted to his meals, he was
+incessantly occupied.  Aunt Lucy's society, his chief comfort,
+was thus taken from him; since, in order to rise early,
+he was obliged to go to bed as soon as possible after 
+day's work was finished.
+
+The effects of such incessant labor without
+a sufficient supply of nourishing food, may easily
+be imagined.  The dry bread and meagre soup which
+constituted the chief articles of diet in Mrs.
+Mudge's economical household, had but one
+recommendation,--they were effectual preventives of
+gluttony.  It was reported that on one occasion a
+beggar, apparently famishing with hunger, not
+knowing the character of the house, made application
+at the door for food. In an unusual fit of
+generosity, Mrs. Mudge furnished him with a
+slice of bread and a bowl of soup, which, however,
+proved so farfrom tempting that the beggar, hungry
+as he was, left them almost untouched.
+
+One day, as Paul was working in the field at a
+little distance from Mr. Mudge, he became conscious
+of a peculiar feeling of giddiness which compelled
+him to cling to the hoe for support,--otherwise he
+must have fallen.
+
+"No laziness there," exclaimed Mr. Mudge, observing
+Paul's cessation from labor, "We can't support you
+in idleness."
+
+But the boy paid no regard to this adminition, and
+Mr. Mudge, somewhat surprised, advanced toward him
+to enforce the command. 
+
+Even he was startled at the unusual paleness of
+Paul's face, and inquired in a less peremptory tone,
+"what's the matter?"
+
+"I feel sick," gasped Paul.
+
+Without another word, Mr. Mudge took Paul up in his
+arms and carried him into the house.
+
+"What's the matter, now?" asked his wife, meeting
+him at the door.
+
+"The boy feels a little sick, but I guess he'll get
+over it by-and by.  Haven't you got a little soup
+that you can give him?  I reckon he's faint, and
+that'll brighten him up."
+
+Paul evidently did not think so, for he motioned
+away a bowl of the delightful mixture, though it was
+proffered him by the fair hands of Mrs. Mudge.  The
+lady was somewhat surprised, and said, roughly,
+"I shouldn't wonder if he was only trying to shirk."
+
+This was too much even for Mr. Mudge; "The boy's
+sick," said he, "that's plain enough; if he don't
+get better soon, I must send for the doctor,
+for work drives, and I can't spare him."
+
+"There's no more danger of his being sick than
+mine," said Mrs. Mudge, emphatically; "however, if
+you're fool enough to go for a doctor, that's none
+of my business.  I've heard of feigning sickness
+before now, to get rid of work.  As to his being
+pale, I've been as pale as that myself sometimes
+without your troubling yourself very much about me."
+
+"'Twon't be any expense to us," alleged Mr. Mudge,
+in a tone of justification, for he felt in some awe
+of his wife's temper, which was none of the mildest
+when a little roused, "'Twon't be any expense to us;
+the town has got to pay for it, and as long as it
+will get him ready for work sooner, we might as well
+take advantage of it."
+
+This consideration somewhat reconciled Mrs. Mudge to
+the step proposed, and as Paul, instead of getting
+better, grew rapidly worse, Mr. Mudge thought it
+expedient to go immediately for the village
+physician.  Luckily Dr. Townsend was at home,
+and an hour afterwards found him standing
+beside the sick boy.
+
+"I don't know but you'll think it rather foolish,
+our sending for you, doctor," said Mrs. Mudge, "but
+Mudge would have it that the boy was sick and so he
+went for you."
+
+"And he did quite right," said Dr. Townsend,
+noticing the ghastly
+pallor of Paul's face. "He is a very sick boy, and
+if I had not been called I would not have answered
+for the consequences.  How do you feel, my boy?"
+he inquired of Paul.
+
+"I feel very weak, and my head swims," was the reply.
+
+"How and when did this attack come on?" asked the doctor,
+turning to Mr. Mudge.
+
+"He was taken while hoeing in the field," was the reply.
+
+"Have you kept him at work much there lately?"
+
+"Well, yes, I've been drove by work, and he has
+worked there all day latterly."
+
+"At what time has he gone to work in the morning?"
+
+"He has got up to milk the cows about five o'clock. 
+I used to do it, but since he has learned, I have
+indulged myself a little."
+
+"It would have been well for him if he had enjoyed
+the same privilege.  It is my duty to speak plainly. 
+The sickness of this boy lies at your door.  He has
+never been accustomed to hard labor, and yet you have
+obliged him to rise earlier and work later than most men.
+No wonder he feels weak.  Has he a good appetite?"
+
+"Well, rather middlin'," said Mrs. Mudge, "but it's mainly
+because he's too dainty to eat what's set before him.
+Why, only the first day he was here he turned up his nose
+at the bread and soup we had for dinner."
+
+"Is this a specimen of the soup?" asked Dr. Townsend,
+taking from the table the bowl which had
+been proffered to Paul and declined by him.
+
+Without ceremony he raised to his lips a spoonful of
+the soup and tasted it with a wry face.
+
+"Do you often have this soup on the table?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"We always have it once a day, and sometimes twice,"
+returned Mrs. Mudge.
+
+"And you call the boy dainty because he don't relish
+such stuff as this?" said the doctor, with an
+indignation he did not attmpt to conceal.  "Why,
+I wouldn't be hired to take the contents of that
+bowl.  It is as bad as any of my own medicines,
+and that's saying a good deal.  How much nourishment
+do you suppose such a mixture would afford?  And yet
+with little else to sustain him you have worked this
+boy like a beast of burden,--worse even, for they at
+least have abundance of GOOD food."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Mudge both winced under this plain
+speaking, but they did not dare to give expression
+to their anger, for they knew well that Dr. Townsend
+was an influential man in town, and, by representing
+the affair in the proper quarter, might render their
+hold upon their present post a very precarious one. 
+Mr. Mudge therefore contented himself with muttering
+that he guessed he worked as hard as anybody, and he
+didn't complain of his fare.
+
+"May I ask you, Mr. Mudge," said the doctor, fixing
+his penetrating eye full upon him,"whether you
+confine yourself to the food upon which you have
+kept this boy?"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Mudge, in some confusion, moving
+uneasily in his seat,"I can't say but now and then I
+eat something a little different."
+
+"Do you eat at the same table with the inmates of
+your house?"
+
+"Well, no," said the embarrassed Mr. Mudge.
+
+"Tell me plainly,--how often do you partake of this soup?"
+
+"I aint your patient," said the man, sullenly, "Why
+should you want to know what I eat?"
+
+"I have an object in view.  Are you afraid to answer?"
+
+"I don't know as there's anything to be afraid of. 
+The fact is, I aint partial to soup; it don't agree
+with me, and so I don't take it."
+
+"Did you ever consider that this might be the case
+with others as well as yourself?" inquired the
+doctor with a glance expressive of his contempt for
+Mr. Mudge's selfishness.  Without waiting for a
+reply, Dr. Townsend ordered Paul to be put to bed
+immediately, after which he would leave some
+medicine for him to take.
+
+Here was another embarassment for the worthy couple. 
+They hardly knew where to put our hero.  It would
+not do for them to carry him to his pallet in the
+attic,for they felt sure that this would lead
+to some more plain speaking on the part of Dr.
+Townsend.  He was accordingly, though with some
+reluctance, placed in a small bedroom upstairs,
+which, being more comfortable than those
+appropriated to the paupers, had been reserved for a
+son at work in a neighboring town, on his occasional
+visits home.
+
+"Is there no one in the house who can sit in the
+chamber and attend to his occasional wants?" asked
+Dr. Townsend.  "He will need to take his medicine at
+stated periods, and some one will be required
+to administer it."
+
+"There's Aunt Lucy Lee," said Mrs. Mudge, "she's
+taken a fancy to the boy, and I reckonshe'll do as
+well as anybody."
+
+"No one better," returned the doctor, who well knew
+Aunt Lucy's kindness of disposition, and was
+satisfied that she would take all possible care of
+his patient.
+
+So it was arranged that Aunt Lucy should take her
+place at Paul's bedside as his nurse.
+
+Paul was sick for many days,--not dangerously so,
+but hard work and scanty fare had weakened him to
+such a degree that exhausted nature required time to
+recruit its wasted forces.  But he was not unhappy
+or restless.  Hour after hour he would lie
+patiently, and listen to the clicking of her
+knitting needles.  Though not provided with
+luxurious food, Dr. Townsend had spoken with so much
+plainness that Mrs. Mudge felt compelled to modify
+her treatment, lest, through his influence, she with
+her husband, might lose their situation.  This
+forced forbearance, however, was far from warming
+her heart towards its object.  Mrs. Mudge was a
+hard, practical woman, and her heart was so
+encrusted with worldliness and self-interest that
+she might as well have been without one.
+
+One day, as Paul lay quietly gazing at Aunt Lucy's
+benevolent face, and mentally contrasting it with
+that of Mrs. Mudge, whose shrill voice could be
+heard form below, he was seized with a sudden desire
+to learn something of her past history.
+
+"How long have you been here, Aunt Lucy?" he inquired.
+
+She looked up from her knitting, and sighed as she
+answered, "A long and weary time to look back upon,
+Paul.  I have been here ten years."
+
+"Ten years," repeated Paul, thoughtfully, "and I am
+thirteen.  So you have been here nearly all my
+lifetime.  Has Mr. Mudge been here all that time?"
+
+"Only the last two years.  Before that we had Mrs.
+Perkins."
+
+"Did she treat you any better than Mrs. Mudge?"
+
+"Any better than Mrs. Mudge!" vociferated that lady,
+who had ascended the stairs without being heard by
+Aunt Lucy of Paul, and had thus caught the last
+sentence.  "Any better than Mrs. Mudge!" she
+repeated, thoroughly provoked.  "So you've been
+talking about me, you trollop, have you?  I'll come
+up with you, you may depend upon that.  That's to
+pay for my giving you tea Sunday night, is it? 
+Perhaps you'll get some more.  It's pretty well in
+paupers conspiring together because they aint
+treated like princes and princesses.  Perhaps you'd
+like to got boarded with Queen Victoria."
+
+The old lady sat very quiet during this tirade.  She
+had been the subject of similar invective before,
+and knew that it would do no good to oppose Mrs.
+Mudge in her present excited state.
+
+"I don't wonder you haven't anything to say," said
+the infuriated dame.  "I should think you'd want to
+hide your face in shame, you trollop."
+
+Paul was not quite so patient as his attendant.  Her
+kindness had produced such an impression on him,
+that Mrs. Mudge, by her taunts, stirred up his
+indignation.
+
+"She's no more of a trollop than you are," said he,
+with spirit.
+
+Mrs. Mudge whirled round at this unexpected attack,
+and shook her fist menacingly at Paul--
+
+"So, you've put in your oar, you little jackanapes,"
+said she, "If you're well enough to be impudent
+you're well enough to go to work.  You aint a goin'
+to lie here idle much longer, I can tell you.  If
+you deceive Dr. Townsend, and make him believe
+you're sick, you can't deceive me.  No doubt you
+feel mighty comfortable, lyin' here with nothing to
+do, while I'm a slavin' myself to death down stairs,
+waitin' upon you; (this was a slight exaggeration,
+as Aunt Lucy took the entire charge of Paul,
+including the preparation of his food;) but you'd
+better make the most of it, for you won't lie
+here much longer.  You'll miss not bein' able to
+talk about me, won't you?"
+
+Mrs. Mudge paused a moment as if expecting an answer
+to her highly sarcastic question, but Paul felt that
+no advantage would be gained by saying more.. He was
+not naturally a quick-tempered buy, and had only
+been led to this little ebullition by the wanton
+attack by Mrs. Mudge.
+
+This lady, after standing a moment as if defying the
+twain to a further contest, went out, slamming the
+door violently after her.
+
+"You did wrong to provoke her, Paul," said Aunt
+Lucy, gravely.
+
+"How could I help it?" asked Paul, earnestly.  "If
+she had only abused ME, I should not have cared so
+much, but when she spoke about you, who have been so
+kind to me, I could not be silent."
+
+"I thank you, Paul, for your kind feeling," said the
+old lady, gently, "but we must learn to bear and forbear.
+The best of us have our faults and failings." 
+
+"What are yours, Aunt Lucy?"
+
+"O, a great many."
+
+"Such as what?"
+
+"I am afraid I am sometimes discontented with the
+station which God has assigned me."
+
+"I don't think you can be very much to blame for
+that.  I should never learn to be contented here if
+I lived to the age of Methuselah."
+
+Paul lay quite still for an hour or more.  During
+that time he formed a determination which will be
+announced in the next chapter.
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+PAUL'S DETERMINATION
+
+At the close of the last chapter it was stated that
+Paul had come to a determination.
+
+This was,--TO RUN AWAY.
+
+That he had good reason for this we have already
+seen.
+
+He was now improving rapidly, and only waited till
+he was well enough to put his design into execution.
+
+"Aunt Lucy," said he one day, "I've got something
+to tell you."
+
+The old lady looked up inquiringly.
+
+"It's something I've been thinking of a long
+time,--at least most of the time since I've been
+sick.   It isn't pleasant for me to stay here, and
+I've pretty much made up my mind that I sha'n't."
+
+"Where will you go?" asked the old lady, dropping
+her work in surprise.
+
+"I don't know of any particular place, but I should
+be better off most anywhere than here."
+
+"But you are so young, Paul."
+
+"God will take care of me, Aunt Lucy,--mother used
+to tell me that.  Besides, here I have no hope of
+learning anything or improving my condition.  Then
+again, if I stay here, I can never do what father
+wished me to do."
+
+"What is that, Paul?"
+
+Paul told the story of his father's indebtedness to
+Squire Conant, and the cruel letter which the Squire
+had written.
+
+"I mean to pay that debt," he concluded firmly.  "I
+won't let anybody say that my father kept them out
+of their money.  There is no chance here; somewhere
+else I may find work and money."
+
+"It is a great undertaking for a boy like you,
+Paul," said Aunt Lucy, thoughtfully.  "To whom is
+the money due?"
+
+"Squire Conant of Cedarville."
+
+Aunt Lucy seemed surprised and agitated by the
+mention of this name.
+
+"Paul," said she, "Squire Conant is my brother."
+
+"Your brother!" repeated he in great surprise. 
+"Then why does he allow you to live here?  He is
+rich enough to take care of you."
+
+"It is a long story," said the old lady, sadly. 
+"All that you will be interested to know is that I
+married against the wishes of my family.  My husband
+died and I was left destitute.  My brother has
+never noticed me since."
+
+"It is a great shame," said Paul.
+
+"We won't judge him, Paul.  Have you fixed upon
+any time to go?"
+
+"I shall wait a few days till I get stronger.  Can
+you tell me how
+far it is to New York?"
+
+"O, a great distance; a hundred miles at least.  You
+can't think of going so far as that?"
+
+"I think it would be the best plan," said Paul. "In
+a great city like New York there must be a great
+many things to do which I can't do here.  I don't
+feel strong enough to work on a farm.  Besides,
+I don't like it.  O, it must be a fine thing to live
+in a great city.  Then too," pursued Paul, his face
+lighting up with the hopeful confidence of youth, "I
+may become rich.  If I do, Aunt Lucy, I will build a
+fine house, and you shall come and live with me."
+
+Aunt Lucy had seen more of life than Paul, and was
+less sanguine.  The thought came to her that her
+life was already declining while his was but just
+begun, and in the course of nature, even if his
+bright dreams should be realized, she could hardly
+hope to live long enough to see it.  But of this she
+said nothing.  She would not for the world have
+dimmed the brightness of his anticipations by the
+expression of a single doubt.
+
+"I wish you all success, Paul, and I thank you for
+wishing me to share in your good fortune.  God helps
+those who help themselves, and he will help you if
+you only deserve it.  I shall miss you very
+much when you are gone.  It will seem more lonely
+than ever."
+
+"If it were not for you, Aunt Lucy, I should not
+mind going at all, but I shall be sorry to leave you
+behind."
+
+"God will care for both of us, my dear boy.  I shall
+hope to hear from you now and then, and if I learn
+that you are prosperous and happy, I shall be better
+contented with my own lot.  But have you thought of
+all the labor and weariness that you will have to
+encounter?  It is best to consider well all this,
+before entering upon such an undertaking."
+
+"I have thought of all that, and if there were any
+prospect of my being happy here, I might stay for
+the present.  But you know how Mrs. Mudge has
+treated me, and how she feels towards me now."
+
+"I acknowledge, Paul, that it has proved a
+hard apprenticeship, and perhaps it might be
+made yet harder if you should stay longer. 
+You must let me know when you are going, I
+shall want to bid you good-by."
+
+"No fear that I shall forget that, Aunt Lucy.
+Next to my mother you have been most kind to me,
+and I love you for it."
+
+Lightly pressing her lips to Paul's forehead
+Aunt Lucy left the room to conceal the emotion
+called forth by his approaching departure.  Of
+all the inmates of the establishment she had
+felt most closely drawn to the orphan boy,
+whose loneliness and bereavement had appealed
+to her woman's heart.  This feeling had
+been strengthened by the care she had been
+called to bestow upon him in his illness, for it
+is natural to love those whom we have benefited. 
+But Aunt Lucy was the most unselfish
+of living creatures, and the idea of dissuading
+Paul from a course which he felt was right
+never occurred to her.  She determined that
+she would do what she could to further his
+plans, now that he had decided to go.  Accordingly
+she commenced knitting him a pair of
+stockings, knowing that this would prove a
+useful present.  This came near being the
+means of discovering Paul's plan to Mrs.
+Mudge The latter, who notwithstanding her
+numerous duties, managed to see everything
+that was going on, had her attention directed
+to Aunt Lucy's work.
+
+"Have you finished the stockings that I set
+you to knitting for Mr. Mudge?" she asked.
+
+"No," said Aunt Lucy, in some confusion.
+
+"Then whose are those, I should like to
+know?  Somebody of more importance than
+my husband, I suppose."
+
+"They are for Paul," returned the old lady,
+in some uneasiness.
+
+"Paul!" repeated Mrs. Mudge, in her haste
+putting a double quantity of salaeratus into the
+bread she was mixing; "Paul's are they?  And
+who asked you to knit him a pair, I should like
+to be informed?"
+
+"No one."
+
+"Then what are you doing it for?"
+
+"I thought he might want them."
+
+"Mighty considerate, I declare.  And I
+shouldn't be at all surprised if you were knitting
+them with the yarn I gave you for Mr.
+Mudge's stockings."
+
+"You are mistaken," said Aunt Lucy,
+shortly.
+
+"Oh, you're putting on your airs, are you? 
+I'll tell you what, Madam, you'd better put
+those stockings away in double-quick time, and
+finish my husband's, or I'll throw them into
+the fire, and Paul Prescott may wait till he
+goes barefoot before he gets them."
+
+There was no alternative.  Aunt Lucy was
+obliged to obey, at least while her persecutor
+was in the room.  When alone for any length
+of time she took out Paul's stockings from
+under her apron, and worked on them till the
+approaching steps of Mrs. Mudge warned her
+to desist.
+
+----
+
+
+Three days passed.  The shadows of twilight
+were already upon the earth.  The paupers
+were collected in the common room appropriated
+to their use.  Aunt Lucy had suspended
+her work in consequence of the darkness,
+for in this economical household a lamp
+was considered a useless piece of extravagance. 
+Paul crept quietly to her side, and whispered
+in tones audible to her alone, "I AM GOING TO-
+MORROW."
+
+"To-morrow! so soon?"
+
+"Yes," said Paul, "I am as ready now as
+I shall ever be.  I wanted to tell you, because
+I thought maybe you might like to know that
+this is the last evening we shall spend together
+at present."
+
+"Do you go in the morning?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Lucy, early in the morning.  Mr.
+Mudge usually calls me at five; I must be gone
+an hour before that time.  I suppose I must
+bid you good-by to-night."
+
+"Not to-night, Paul; I shall be up in the
+morning to see you go."
+
+"But if Mrs. Mudge finds it out she will
+abuse you."
+
+"I am used to that, Paul," said Aunt Lucy,
+with a sorrowful smile.  "I have borne it
+many times, and I can again.  But I can't
+lie quiet and let you go without one word
+of parting.  You are quite determined to go?"
+
+"Quite, Aunt Lucy.  I never could stay
+here.  There is no pleasure in the present, and
+no hope for the future.  I want to see something
+of life," and Paul's boyish figure dilated
+with enthusiasm.
+
+"God grant that you do not see too much!"
+said Aunt Lucy, half to herself.
+
+"Is the world then, so very sad a place?"
+asked Paul.
+
+"Both joy and sorrow are mingled in the
+cup of human life," said Aunt Lucy, solemnly:
+
+"Which shall preponderate it is partly in our
+power to determine.  He who follows the path
+of duty steadfastly, cannot be wholly miserable,
+whatever misfortunes may come upon
+him.  He will be sustained by the conviction
+that his own errors have not brought them
+upon him."
+
+"I will try to do right," said Paul, placing
+his hand in that of his companion, "and if
+ever I am tempted to do wrong, I will think of
+you and of my mother, and that thought shall
+restrain me."
+
+"It's time to go bed, folks," proclaimed Mrs
+Mudge, appearing at the door.  "I can't have
+you sitting up all night, as I've no doubt you'd
+like to do."
+
+It was only eight o'clock, but no one thought
+of interposing an objection.  The word of
+Mrs. Mudge was law in her household, as
+even her husband was sometimes made aware.
+
+All quietly rose from their seats and repaired
+to bed.  It was an affecting sight to
+watch the tottering gait of those on whose
+heads the snows of many winters had drifted
+heavily, as they meekly obeyed the behest of
+one whose coarse nature forbade her sympathizing
+with them in their clouded age, and
+many infirmities.
+
+"Come," said she, impatient of their slow
+movements, "move a little quicker, if it's
+perfectly convenient.  Anybody'd think you'd
+been hard at work all day, as I have.  You're
+about the laziest set I ever had anything to do
+with.  I've got to be up early in the morning,
+and can't stay here dawdling."
+
+"She's got a sweet temper," said Paul, in a
+whisper, to Aunt Lucy.
+
+"Hush!" said the old lady.  "She may hear you."
+
+"What's that you're whispering about?"
+said Mrs. Mudge, suspiciously.  "Something
+you're ashamed to have heard, most likely.
+
+Paul thought it best to remain silent.
+
+"To-morrow morning at four!" he whispered
+to Aunt Lucy, as he pressed her hand in
+the darkness.
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+PAUL BEGINS HIS JOURNEY.
+
+
+Paul ascended the stairs to his hard pallet
+for the last time.  For the last time!  There is
+sadness in the thought, even when the future
+which lies before us glows with brighter colors
+than the past has ever worn.  But to Paul,
+whose future was veiled in uncertainty, and
+who was about to part with the only friend
+who felt an interest in his welfare, this
+thought brought increased sorrow.
+
+He stood before the dirt-begrimed window
+through which alone the struggling sunbeams
+found an inlet into the gloomy little attic, and
+looked wistfully out upon the barren fields
+that surrounded the poorhouse.  Where would
+he be on the morrow at that time?  He did not
+know.  He knew little or nothing of the great
+world without, yet his resolution did not for
+an instant falter.  If it had, the thought of
+Mrs. Mudge would have been enough to remove
+all his hesitation.
+
+He threw himself on his hard bed, and a few
+minutes brought him that dreamless sleep
+which comes so easily to the young.
+
+Meanwhile Aunt Lucy, whose thoughts were
+also occupied with Paul's approaching departure,
+had taken from the pocket of her OTHER
+dress--for she had but two--something
+wrapped in a piece of brown paper.  One by one
+she removed the many folds in which it was
+enveloped, and came at length to the contents.
+
+It was a coin.
+
+"Paul will need some money, poor boy,"
+said she, softly to herself, "I will give him
+this.  It will never do me any good, and it may
+be of some service to him."
+
+So saying she looked carefully at the coin in
+the moonlight.
+
+But what made her start, and utter a half
+exclamation?
+
+Instead of the gold eagle, the accumulation
+of many years, which she had been saving for
+some extraordinary occasion like the presents
+she held in her hand--a copper cent.
+
+"I have been robbed," she exclaimed
+indignantly in the suddenness of her surprise.
+
+"What's the matter now?" inquired Mrs
+Mudge, appearing at the door, "Why are you
+not in bed, Aunt Lucy Lee?  How dare you
+disobey my orders?"
+
+"I have been robbed," exclaimed the old
+lady in unwonted excitement.
+
+"Of what, pray?" asked Mrs. Mudge, with a sneer.
+
+"I had a gold eagle wrapped up in that paper,"
+returned Aunt Lucy, pointing to the fragments
+on the floor, "and now, to-night, when I come
+to open it, I find but this cent."
+
+"A likely story," retorted Mrs. Mudge, "very
+likely, indeed, that a common pauper should
+have a gold eagle.  If you found a cent in the
+paper, most likely that's what you put there. 
+You're growing old and forgetful, so don't get
+foolish and flighty.  You'd better go to bed."
+
+"But I did have the gold, and it's been stolen,"
+persisted Aunt Lucy, whose disappointment was
+the greater because she intended the money for Paul.
+
+"Again!" exclaimed Mrs. Mudge.  "Will you never
+have done with this folly?  Even if you did have
+the gold, which I don't for an instant believe,
+you couldn't keep it.  A pauper has no right
+to hold property."
+
+"Then why did the one who stole the little I had
+leave me this?" said the old lady, scornfully,
+holding up the cent which had been substituted
+for the gold.
+
+"How should I know?" exclaimed Mrs.
+Mudge, wrathfully.  "You talk as if you
+thought I had taken your trumpery money."
+
+"So you did!" chimed in an unexpected
+voice, which made Mrs. Mudge start nervously.
+
+It was the young woman already mentioned,
+who was bereft of reason, but who at times,
+as often happens in such cases, seemed gifted
+with preternatural acuteness.
+
+"So you did.  I saw you, I did; I saw you
+creep up when you thought nobody was looking,
+and search her pocket.  You opened that
+paper and took out the bright yellow piece, and
+put in another.  You didn't think I was looking
+at you, ha! ha!  How I laughed as I stood behind
+the door and saw you tremble for fear some one
+would catch you thieving.  You didn't think of me,
+dear, did you?"
+
+And the wild creature burst into an unmeaning laugh.
+
+Mrs. Mudge stood for a moment mute, overwhelmed
+by this sudden revelation.  But for the darkness,
+Aunt Lucy could have seen the sudden flush which
+overspread her face with the crimson hue of detected guilt.
+But this was only for a moment.  It was quickly succeeded
+by a feeling of intense anger towards the unhappy creature
+who had been the means of exposing her.
+
+"I'll teach you to slander your betters, you crazy fool,"
+she exclaimed, in a voice almost inarticulate with passion,
+as she seized her rudely by the arm, and dragged her violently
+from the room.
+
+She returned immediately.
+
+"I suppose," said she, abruptly, confronting Aunt Lucy,
+"that you are fool enough to believe her ravings?"
+
+"I bring no accusation," said the old lady, calmly,
+"If your conscience acquits you, it is not for me
+to accuse you."
+
+"But what do you think?" persisted Mrs. Mudge,
+whose consciousness of guilt did not leave her quite at ease.
+
+"I cannot read the heart," said Aunt Lucy,
+composedly.  "I can only say, that, pauper as
+I am, I would not exchange places with the one
+who has done this deed."
+
+"Do you mean me?" demanded Mrs. Mudge.
+
+"You can tell best."
+
+"I tell you what, Aunt Lucy Lee," said Mrs.
+Mudge, her eyes blazing with anger, "If you
+dare insinuate to any living soul that I stole
+your paltry money, which I don't believe you
+ever had, I will be bitterly revenged upon you."
+
+She flaunted out of the room, and Aunt Lucy,
+the first bitterness of her disappointment over,
+retired to bed, and slept more tranquilly
+than the unscrupulous woman who had robbed her.
+
+At a quarter before four Paul started from
+his humble couch, and hastily dressed himself,
+took up a little bundle containing all his
+scanty stock of clothing, and noiselessly descended
+the two flights of stairs which separated
+him from the lower story.  Here he paused
+a moment for Aunt Lucy to appear. 
+Her sharp ears had distinguished his stealthy
+steps as he passed her door, and she came
+down to bid him good-by.  She had in her
+hands a pair of stockings which she slipped
+into his bundle.
+
+"I wish I had something else to give you,
+Paul," she said, "but you know that I am not
+very rich."
+
+"Dear Aunt Lucy," said Paul, kissing her,
+"you are my only friend on earth.  You have
+been very kind to me, and I never will forget
+you, NEVER!  By-and-by, when I am rich, I will
+build a fine house, and you will come and live
+with me, won't you?"
+
+Paul's bright anticipations, improbable as
+they were, had the effect of turning his
+companion's thoughts into a more cheerful channel.
+
+She bent down and kissed him, whispering softly,
+"Yes, I will, Paul."
+
+"Then it's a bargain," said he, joyously,
+"Mind you don't forget it.  I shall come
+for you one of these days when you least
+expect it."
+
+"Have you any money?" inquired Aunt Lucy.
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"Then," said she, drawing from her finger a
+gold ring which had held its place for many
+long years, "here is something which will bring
+you a little money if you are ever in distress."
+
+Paul hung back.
+
+"I would rather not take it, indeed I would,"
+he said, earnestly, "I would rather go hungry 
+for two or three days than sell your ring.
+Besides, I shall not need it; God will
+provide for me."
+
+"But you need not sell it," urged Aunt Lucy,
+"unless it is absolutely necessary.  You can
+take it and keep it in remembrance of me. 
+Keep it till you see me again, Paul.  It will be
+a pledge to me that you will come back again some day."
+
+"On that condition I will take it," said Paul,
+"and some day I will bring it back."
+
+A slight noise above, as of some one stirring
+in sleep, excited the apprehensions of the two,
+and warned them that it was imprudent for
+them to remain longer in conversation.
+
+After a hurried good-by, Aunt Lucy quietly
+went upstairs again, and Paul, shouldering
+his bundle, walked rapidly away.
+
+The birds, awakening from their night's
+repose, were beginning to carol forth their rich
+songs of thanksgiving for the blessing of a new
+day.  From the flowers beneath his feet and the
+blossom-laden branches above his head, a delicious
+perfume floated out upon the morning air, and filled
+the heart of the young wanderer with a sense of the
+joyousness of existence, and inspired him with
+a hopeful confidence in the future.
+
+For the first time he felt that he belonged to
+himself.  At the age of thirteen he had taken
+his fortune in his own hand, and was about to
+mold it as best he might.
+
+There were care, and toil, and privations before
+him, no doubt, but in that bright morning
+hour he could harbor only cheerful and trusting
+thoughts.  Hopefully he looked forward
+to the time when he could fulfil his father's
+dying injunction, and lift from his name the
+burden of a debt unpaid.  Then his mind reverting
+to another thought, he could not help
+smiling at the surprise and anger of Mr.
+Mudge, when he should find that his assistant
+had taken French leave.  He thought he should
+like to be concealed somewhere where he could
+witness the commotion excited by his own
+departure.  But as he could not be in two places
+at the same time, he must lose that satisfaction. 
+He had cut loose from the Mudge household,
+as he trusted, forever.  He felt that a
+new and brighter life was opening before him.
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+A FRIEND IN NEED.
+
+
+Our hero did not stop till he had put a good
+five miles between himself and the poorhouse. 
+He knew that it would not be long before Mr.
+Mudge would discover his absence, and the
+thought of being carried back was doubly
+distasteful to him now that he had, even for a
+short time, felt the joy of being his own master. 
+His hurried walk, taken in the fresh morning
+air, gave him quite a sharp appetite.  Luckily
+he had the means of gratifying it.  The night
+before he had secreted half his supper, knowing
+that he should need it more the next morning. 
+He thought he might now venture to sit
+down and eat it.
+
+At a little distance from the road was a
+spring, doubtless used for cattle, since it was
+situated at the lower end of a pasture.  Close
+beside and bending over it was a broad, branching
+oak, which promised a cool and comfortable shelter.
+
+"That's just the place for me," thought
+Paul, who felt thirsty as well as hungry, "I
+think I will take breakfast here and rest awhile
+before I go any farther."
+
+So saying he leaped lightly over the rail
+fence, and making his way to the place indicated,
+sat down in the shadow of the tree. 
+Scooping up some water in the hollow of his
+hand, he drank a deep and refreshing draught. 
+He next proceeded to pull out of his pocket a
+small package, which proved to contain two
+small pieces of bread.  His long morning walk
+had given him such an appetite that he was not
+long in despatching all he had.  It is said by
+some learned physicians, who no doubt understand
+the matter, that we should always rise
+from the table with an appetite.  Probably
+Paul had never heard of this rule.  Nevertheless,
+he seemed in a fair way of putting it into
+practice, for the best of reasons, because he
+could not help it.
+
+His breakfast, though not the most inviting,
+being simply unbuttered bread and rather dry
+at that, seemed more delicious than ever before,
+but unfortunately there was not enough
+of it.  However, as there seemed likely to be
+no more forthcoming, he concluded in default
+of breakfast to lie down under the tree for a
+few minutes before resuming his walk. 
+Though he could not help wondering vaguely
+where his dinner was to come from, as that
+time was several hours distant, he wisely
+decided not to anticipate trouble till it came.
+
+Lying down under the tree, Paul began to
+consider what Mr. Mudge would say when he
+discovered that he had run away.
+
+"He'll have to milk the cows himself,"
+thought Paul.  "He won't fancy that much. 
+Won't Mrs. Mudge scold, thought?  I'm glad
+I shan't be within hearing."
+
+"Holloa!"
+
+It was a boy's voice that Paul heard.
+
+Looking up he saw a sedate company of cows
+entering the pasture single file through an
+aperture made by letting down the bars.  Behind
+them walked a boy of about his own size,
+flourishing a stout hickory stick.  The cows
+went directly to the spring from which Paul
+had already drunk.  The young driver looked
+at our hero with some curiosity, wondering,
+doubtless, what brought him there so early in
+the morning.  After a little hesitation he said,
+remarking Paul's bundle, "Where are you
+traveling?"
+
+"I don't know exactly," said Paul, who was
+not quite sure whether it would be politic to
+avow his destination.
+
+"Don't know?" returned the other,
+evidently surprised.
+
+"Not exactly; I may go to New York."
+
+"New York! That's a great ways off.  Do
+you know the way there?"
+
+"No, but I can find it."
+
+"Are you going all alone?" asked his new
+acquaintance, who evidently thought Paul had
+undertaken a very formidable journey.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you going to walk all the way?"
+
+"Yes, unless somebody offers me a ride now and then."
+
+"But why don't you ride in the stage, or in the cars?
+You would get there a good deal quicker."
+
+"One reason," said Paul, hesitating a little,
+"is because I have no money to pay for riding."
+
+"Then how do you expect to live?  Have
+you had any breakfast, this morning?"
+
+"I brought some with me, and just got
+through eating it when you came along."
+
+"And where do you expect to get any dinner?"
+pursued his questioner, who was evidently
+not a little puzzled by the answers he received.
+
+"I don't know," returned Paul.
+
+His companion looked not a little confounded
+at this view of the matter, but presently
+a bright thought struck him.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," he said, shrewdly,
+"if you were running away."
+
+Paul hesitated a moment.  He knew that his
+case must look a little suspicious, thus unexplained,
+and after a brief pause for reflection
+determined to take the questioner into his
+confidence.  He did this the more readily because
+his new acquaintance looked very pleasant.
+
+"You've guessed right," he said; "if you'll
+promise not to tell anybody, I'll tell you all
+about it."
+
+This was readily promised, and the boy who
+gave his name as John Burgess, sat down beside
+Paul, while he, with the frankness of boyhood,
+gave a circumstantial account of his
+father's death, and the ill-treatment he had
+met with subsequently.
+
+"Do you come from Wrenville?" asked
+John, interested.  "Why, I've got relations
+there.  Perhaps you know my cousin, Ben Newcome."
+
+"Is Ben Newcome your cousin?  O yes, I
+know him very well; he's a first-rate fellow."
+
+"He isn't much like his father."
+
+"Not at all.  If he was"--
+
+"You wouldn't like him so well.  Uncle
+talks a little too much out of the dictionary,
+and walks so straight that he bends backward. 
+But I say, Paul, old Mudge deserves to be
+choked, and Mrs. Mudge should be obliged to
+swallow a gallon of her own soup.  I don't
+know but that would be worse than choking. 
+I wouldn't have stayed so long if I had been in
+your place."
+
+"I shouldn't," said Paul, "if it hadn't been
+for Aunt Lucy."
+
+"Was she an aunt of yours?"
+
+"No, but we used to call her so, She's the
+best friend I've got, and I don't know but the
+only one," said Paul, a little sadly.
+
+"No, she isn't," said John, quickly; "I'll be
+your friend, Paul.  Sometime, perhaps, I shall
+go to New York, myself, and then I will come
+and see you.  Where do you expect to be?"
+
+"I don't know anything about the city," said
+Paul, "but if you come, I shall be sure to see
+you somewhere.  I wish you were going
+now."
+
+Neither Paul nor his companion had much
+idea of the extent of the great metropolis, or
+they would not have taken it so much as a matter
+of course that, being in the same place,
+they should meet each other.
+
+Their conversation was interrupted by the
+ringing of a bell from a farmhouse within sight.
+
+"That's our breakfast-bell," said John
+rising from the grass.  "It is meant for me.
+I suppose they wonder what keeps me so long. 
+Won't you come and take breakfast with me, Paul?"
+
+"I guess not," said Paul, who would have
+been glad to do so had he followed the promptings
+of his appetite.  "I'm afraid your folks
+would ask me questions, and then it would be
+found out that I am running away."
+
+"I didn't think of that," returned John,
+after a pause.  "You haven't got any dinner
+with you?" he said a moment after.
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do.  Come with me
+as far as the fence, and lie down there till I've
+finished breakfast.  Then I'll bring something out for you,
+and maybe I'll walk along a little way with you."
+
+"You are very kind," said Paul, gratefully.
+
+"Oh, nonsense," said John, "that's nothing. 
+Besides, you know we are going to be friends."
+
+"John! breakfast's ready."
+
+"There's Nelson calling me," said John, hurriedly.
+"I must leave you; there's the fence; lie down there,
+and I'll be back in a jiffy."
+
+"John, I say, why don't you come?"
+
+"I'm coming.  You mustn't think everybody's
+got such a thundering great appetite as you, Nelson."
+
+"I guess you've got enough to keep you from
+pining away," said Nelson, good-naturedly,
+"you're twice as fat as I am."
+
+"That's because I work harder," said John,
+rather illogically.
+
+The brothers went in to breakfast.
+
+But a few minutes elapsed before John
+reappeared, bearing under his arm a parcel
+wrapped up in an old newspaper.  He came up
+panting with the haste he had made.
+
+"It didn't take you long to eat breakfast,"
+said Paul.
+
+"No, I hurried through it; I thought you
+would get tired of waiting.  And now I'll walk
+along with you a little ways.  But wait here's
+something for you."
+
+So saying he unrolled the newspaper and
+displayed a loaf of bread, fresh and warm, which
+looked particularly inviting to Paul, whose
+scanty breakfast had by no means satisfied his
+appetite.  Besides this, there was a loaf of
+molasses ginger-bread, with which all who
+were born in the country, or know anything of
+New England housekeeping, are familiar.
+
+"There," said John, "I guess that'll be
+enough for your dinner."
+
+"But how did you get it without having any
+questions asked?" inquired our hero.
+
+"Oh," said John, "I asked mother for them,
+and when she asked what I wanted of them, I
+told her that I'd answer that question to-morrow. 
+You see I wanted to give you a chance
+to get off out of the way, though mother
+wouldn't tell, even if she knew."
+
+"All right," said Paul, with satisfaction.
+
+He could not help looking wistfully at the
+bread, which looked very inviting to one
+accustomed to poorhouse fare.
+
+"If you wouldn't mind," he said hesitating,
+"I would like to eat a little of the bread now."
+
+"Mind, of course not," said John, breaking
+off a liberal slice.  "Why didn't I think of
+that before?  Walking must have given you a
+famous appetite."
+
+John looked on with evident approbation,
+while Paul ate with great apparent appetite.
+
+"There," said he with a sigh of gratification,
+as he swallowed the last morsel, "I haven't
+tasted anything so good for a long time."
+
+"Is it as good as Mrs. Mudge's soup?" asked
+John, mischievously.
+
+"Almost," returned Paul, smiling.
+
+We must now leave the boys to pursue their
+way, and return to the dwelling from which
+our hero had so unceremoniously taken his departure,
+and from which danger now threatened him.
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+A CLOUD IN THE MUDGE HORIZON.
+
+
+Mr. Mudge was accustomed to call Paul at
+five o'clock, to milk the cows and perform
+other chores.  He himself did not rise till an
+hour later.  During Paul's sickness, he was
+obliged to take his place,--a thing he did not
+relish overmuch.  Now that our hero had
+recovered, he gladly prepared to indulge himself
+in an extra nap.
+
+"Paul!" called Mr. Mudge from the bottom
+of the staircase leading up into the attic, "it's
+five o'clock; time you were downstairs."
+
+Mr. Mudge waited for an answer, but none came.
+
+"Paul!" repeated Mr. Mudge in a louder
+tone, "it's time to get up; tumble out there."
+
+Again there was no answer.
+
+At first, Mr. Mudge thought it might be in
+consequence of Paul's sleeping so soundly, but
+on listening attentively, he could not distinguish
+the deep and regular breathing which
+usually accompanies such slumber.
+
+"He must be sullen," he concluded, with a feeling
+of irritation.  "If he is, I'll teach him----"
+
+Without taking time to finish the sentence,
+he bounded up the rickety staircase, and
+turned towards the bed with the intention of
+giving our hero a smart shaking.
+
+He looked with astonishment at the empty
+bed.  "Is it possible," he thought, "that Paul
+has already got up?  He isn't apt to do so
+before he is called."
+
+At this juncture, Mrs. Mudge, surprised at
+her husband's prolonged absence, called from
+below, "Mr. Mudge!"
+
+"Well, wife?"
+
+"What in the name of wonder keeps you up
+there so long?"
+
+"Just come up and see."
+
+Mrs. Mudge did come up.  Her husband
+pointed to the empty bed.
+
+"What do you think of that?" he asked.
+
+"What about it?" she inquired, not quite
+comprehending.
+
+"About that boy, Paul.  When I called him
+I got no answer, so I came up, and behold he is
+among the missing."
+
+"You don't think he's run away, do you?"
+asked Mrs. Mudge startled.
+
+"That is more than I know."
+
+"I'll see if his clothes are here," said his
+wife, now fully aroused.
+
+Her search was unavailing.  Paul's clothes
+had disappeared as mysteriously as their owner.
+
+"It's a clear case," said Mr. Mudge, shaking
+his head; "he's gone.  I wouldn't have lost
+him for considerable.  He was only a boy, but
+I managed to get as much work out of him
+as a man.  The question is now, what shall we
+do about it?"
+
+"He must be pursued," said Mrs. Mudge,
+with vehemence, "I'll have him back if it costs
+me twenty dollars.  I'll tell you what, husband,"
+she exclaimed, with a sudden light
+breaking in upon her, "if there's anybody in
+this house knows where he's gone, it is Aunt
+Lucy Lee.  Only last week I caught her knitting
+him a pair of stockings.  I might have
+known what it meant if I hadn't been a
+fool."
+
+"Ha, ha!  So you might, if you hadn't been
+a fool!" echoed a mocking voice.
+
+Turning with sudden anger, Mrs. Mudge
+beheld the face of the crazy girl peering up at
+her from below.
+
+This turned her thoughts into a different channel.
+
+"I'll teach you what I am," she exclaimed,
+wrathfully descending the stairs more rapidly
+than she had mounted them, "and if you know
+anything about the little scamp, I'll have it
+out of you."
+
+The girl narrowly succeeded in eluding the
+grasp of her pursuer.  But, alas! for Mrs.
+Mudge.  In her impetuosity she lost her footing,
+and fell backward into a pail of water
+which had been brought up the night before
+and set in the entry for purposes of ablution. 
+More wrathful than ever, Mrs. Mudge bounced
+into her room and sat down in her dripping
+garments in a very uncomfortable frame of
+mind.  As for Paul, she felt a personal dislike
+for him, and was not sorry on some accounts
+to have him out of the house.  The knowledge,
+however, that he had in a manner defied her
+authority by running away, filled her with an
+earnest desire to get him back, if only to prove
+that it was not to be defied with impunity.
+
+Hoping to elicit some information from
+Aunt Lucy, who, she felt sure, was in Paul's
+confidence, she paid her a visit.
+
+"Well, here's a pretty goings on," she
+commenced, abruptly.  Finding that Aunt Lucy
+manifested no curiosity on the subject, she
+continued, in a significant tone, "Of course, YOU
+don't know anything about it."
+
+"I can tell better when I know what you
+refer to," said the old lady calmly.
+
+"Oh, you are very ignorant all at once.  I
+suppose you didn't know Paul Prescott had
+run away?"
+
+"I am not surprised," said the old lady, in
+the same quiet manner.
+
+Mrs. Mudge had expected a show of
+astonishment, and this calmness disconcerted her.
+
+"You are not surprised!" she retorted.  "I
+presume not, since you knew all about it
+beforehand.  That's why you were knitting him
+some stockings.  Deny it, if you dare."
+
+"I have no disposition to deny it."
+
+"You haven't!" exclaimed the questioner,
+almost struck dumb with this audacity.
+
+"No," said Aunt Lucy.  "Why should I? 
+There was no particular inducement for him
+to stay here.  Wherever he goes, I hope he will
+meet with good friends and good treatment."
+
+"As much as to say he didn't find them here. 
+Is that what you mean?"
+
+"I have no charges to bring."
+
+"But I have," said Mrs. Mudge, her eyes
+lighting with malicious satisfaction.  "Last
+night you missed a ten-dollar gold piece,
+which you saw was stolen from you.  This
+morning it appears that Paul Prescott has run
+away.  I charge him with the theft."
+
+"You do not, can not believe this," said the
+old lady, uneasily.
+
+"Of course I do," returned Mrs. Mudge,
+triumphantly, perceiving her advantage.  "I
+have no doubt of it, and when we get the boy
+back, he shall be made to confess it."
+
+Aunt Lucy looked troubled, much to the
+gratification of Mrs. Mudge.  It was but for a
+short time, however.  Rising from her seat,
+she stood confronting Mrs. Mudge, and said
+quietly, but firmly, "I have no doubt, Mrs.
+Mudge, you are capable of doing what you say. 
+I would advise you, however, to pause.  You
+know, as well as I do, that Paul is incapable
+of this theft.  Even if he were wicked enough
+to form the idea, he would have no need, since
+it was my intention to GIVE him this money. 
+Who did actually steal the gold, you PERHAPS
+know better than I.  Should it be necessary, I
+shall not hesitate to say so.  I advise you not
+to render it necessary."
+
+The threat which lay in these words was
+understood.  It came with the force of a
+sudden blow to Mrs. Mudge, who had supposed it
+would be no difficult task to frighten and
+silence Aunt Lucy.  The latter had always been
+so yielding in all matters relating to herself,
+that this intrepid championship of Paul's
+interests was unlooked for.  The tables were
+completely turned.  Pale with rage, and a
+mortified sense of having been foiled with her
+own weapons, Mrs. Mudge left the room.
+
+Meanwhile her husband milked the cows,
+and was now occupied in performing certain
+other duties that could not be postponed, being
+resolved, immediately after breakfast was
+over, to harness up and pursue the runaway.
+
+"Well, did you get anything out of the old
+lady?" he inquired, as he came from the barn
+with the full milk-pails.
+
+"She said she knew beforehand that he was going."
+
+"Eh!" said Mr. Mudge, pricking up his ears,
+"did she say where?"
+
+"No, and she won't.  She knit him a pair
+of stockings to help him off, and doesn't pretend
+to deny it.  She's taken a wonderful fancy
+to the young scamp, and has been as obstinate
+as could be ever since he has been here."
+
+"If I get him back," said Mr. Mudge, "he
+shall have a good flogging, if I am able to give
+him one, and she shall be present to see it."
+
+"That's right," said Mrs. Mudge, approvingly,
+"when are you going to set out after him?"
+
+"Right after breakfast.  So be spry, and get
+it ready as soon as you can."
+
+Under the stimulus of this inspiring motive,
+Mrs. Mudge bustled about with new energy,
+and before many minutes the meal was in
+readiness.  It did not take long to dispatch it. 
+Immediately afterwards, Mr. Mudge harnessed up,
+as he had determined, and started off in pursuit
+of our hero.
+
+
+In the meantime the two boys had walked
+leisurely along, conversing on various subjects.
+
+"When you get to the city, Paul," said John,
+"I shall want to hear from you.  Will you
+write to me?"
+
+Paul promised readily.
+
+"You can direct to John Burges, Burrville. 
+The postmaster knows me, and I shall be sure
+to get it."
+
+"I wish you were going with me," said Paul.
+
+"Sometimes when I think that I am all alone
+it discourages me.  It would be so much pleasanter
+to have some one with me."
+
+"I shall come sometime," said John, "when
+I am a little older.  I heard father say
+something the other day about my going into a
+store in the city.  So we may meet again."
+
+"I hope we shall."
+
+They were just turning a bend of the road,
+when Paul chanced to look backward.  About
+a quarter of a mile back he descried a horse
+and wagon wearing a familiar look.  Fixing
+his eyes anxiously upon them, he was soon
+made aware that his suspicions were only too
+well founded.  It was Mr. Mudge, doubtless in
+quest of him.
+
+"What shall I do?" he asked, hurriedly of
+his companion.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+This was quickly explained.
+
+John was quickwitted, and he instantly
+decided upon the course proper to be pursued. 
+On either side of the road was a growth of
+underbrush so thick as to be almost impenetrable.
+
+"Creep in behind there, and be quick about
+it," directed John, "there is no time to lose."
+
+"There," said he, after Paul had followed
+his advice, "if he can see you now he must
+have sharp eyes."
+
+"Won't you come in too?"
+
+"Not I," said John, "I am anxious to see
+this Mr. Mudge, since you have told me so
+much about him.  I hope he will ask me some
+questions."
+
+"What will you tell him?"
+
+"Trust me for that.  Don't say any more. 
+He's close by."
+
+
+
+X.
+
+MR. MUDGE MEETS HIS MATCH.
+
+
+John lounged along, appearing to be very
+busily engaged in making a whistle from a slip
+of willow which he had a short time before cut
+from the tree.  He purposely kept in the
+middle of the road, apparently quite unaware
+of the approach of the vehicle, until he was
+aroused by the sound of a voice behind him.
+
+"Be a little more careful, if you don't want
+to get run over."
+
+John assumed a look of surprise, and with
+comic terror ran to the side of the road.
+
+Mr. Mudge checked his horse, and came to a
+sudden halt.
+
+"I say, youngster, haven't you seen a boy of
+about your own size walking along, with a
+bundle in his hand?"
+
+"Tied up in a red cotton handkerchief?"
+inquired John.
+
+"Yes, I believe so," said Mr. Mudge, eagerly,
+"where did you----"
+
+"With a blue cloth cap?"
+
+"Yes, where----"
+
+"Gray jacket and pants?"
+
+"Yes, yes.  Where?"
+
+"With a patch on one knee?"
+
+"Yes, the very one.  When did you see
+him?" said Mr. Mudge, getting ready to
+start his horse.
+
+"Perhaps it isn't the one you mean,"
+continued John, who took a mischievous delight in
+playing with the evident impatience of Mr.
+Mudge; "the boy that I saw looked thin, as
+if he hadn't had enough to eat."
+
+Mr. Mudge winced slightly, and looked at
+John with some suspicion.  But John put on
+so innocent and artless a look that Mr. Mudge
+at once dismissed the idea that there was any
+covert meaning in what he said.  Meanwhile
+Paul, from his hiding-place in the bushes, had
+listened with anxiety to the foregoing colloquy. 
+When John described his appearance so minutely,
+he was seized with a sudden apprehension
+that the boy meant to betray him.  But
+he dismissed it instantly.  In his own singleness
+of heart he could not believe such duplicity
+possible.  Still, it was not without anxiety
+that he waited to hear what would be said next. 
+
+"Well," said Mr. Mudge, slowly, "I don't
+know but he is a little PEAKED.  He's been sick
+lately, and that's took off his flesh."
+
+"Was he your son?" asked John, in a
+sympathizing tone; "you must feel quite troubled
+about him."
+
+He looked askance at Mr. Mudge, enjoying
+that gentleman's growing irritation.
+
+"My son?  No.  Where----"
+
+"Nephews perhaps?" suggested the
+imperturbable John, leisurely continuing the
+manufacture of a whistle.
+
+"No, I tell you, nothing of the kind.  But
+I can't sit waiting here."
+
+"Oh, I hope you'll excuse me," said John,
+apologetically.  "I hope you won't stop on my
+account.  I didn't know you were in a hurry."
+
+"Well, you know it now," said Mr. Mudge,
+crossly.  "When and where did you see the
+boy you have described?  I am in pursuit of him."
+
+"Has he run away?" inquired John in
+assumed surprise.
+
+"Are you going to answer my question or
+not?" demanded Mr. Mudge, angrily.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon.  I shouldn't have
+asked so many questions, only I thought he
+was a nice-looking boy, and I felt interested
+in him."
+
+"He's a young scamp," said Mr. Mudge,
+impetuously, "and it's my belief that you're
+another.  Now answer my question.  When and
+where did you see this boy?"
+
+This time Mr. Mudge's menacing look
+warned John that he had gone far enough. 
+Accordingly he answered promptly, "He
+passed by our farm this morning."
+
+"How far back is that?"
+
+"About three miles."
+
+"Did he stop there?"
+
+"Yes, he stopped a while to rest."
+
+"Have you seen him since?"
+
+"Yes, I saw him about half a mile back."
+
+"On this road?"
+
+"Yes, but he turned up the road that
+branches off there."
+
+"Just what I wanted to find out," said Mr.
+Mudge, in a tone of satisfaction, "I'm sure to
+catch him."
+
+So saying, he turned about and put his horse
+to its utmost speed, determined to make up
+for lost time.  When he was fairly out of sight,
+Paul came forth from his hiding-place.
+
+"How could you do so!" he asked in a
+reproachful tone.
+
+"Could I do what?" asked John, turning a
+laughing face towards Paul.  "Didn't I tell
+old Mudge the exact truth?  You know you
+did turn up that road.  To be sure you didn't
+go two rods before turning back.  But he
+didn't stop to ask about that.  If he hadn't
+been in such a hurry, perhaps I should have
+told him.  Success to him!"
+
+"You can't think how I trembled when you
+described me so particularly."
+
+"You didn't think I would betray you?"
+said John, quickly.
+
+"No, but I was afraid you would venture
+too far, and get us both into trouble."
+
+"Trust me for that, Paul; I've got my eyes
+wide open, and ain't easily caught.  But
+wasn't it fun to see old Mudge fuming while I
+kept him waiting.  What would he have said
+if he had known the bird was so near at hand? 
+He looked foolish enough when I asked him if
+you were his son."
+
+John sat down and gave vent to his pent-up
+laughter which he had felt obliged to restrain
+in the presence of Mr. Mudge.  He laughed so
+heartily that Paul, notwithstanding his recent
+fright and anxiety, could not resist the infection. 
+Together they laughed, till the very air
+seemed vocal with merriment.
+
+John was the first to recover his gravity.
+
+"I am sorry, Paul," he said, "but I must
+bid you good-by.  They will miss me from the
+house.  I am glad I have got acquainted with
+you, and I hope I shall see you again some time
+before very long.  Good-by, Paul."
+
+"Good-by, John."
+
+The two boys shook hands and parted.  One
+went in one direction, the other in the opposite. 
+Each looked back repeatedly till the other was
+out of sight.  Then came over Paul once more
+a feeling of sadness and desolation, which the
+high spirits of his companion had for the time
+kept off.  Occasionally he cast a glance
+backwards, to make sure that Mr. Mudge was not
+following him.  But Paul had no cause to fear
+on that score.  The object of his dread was
+already some miles distant in a different
+direction.
+
+For an hour longer, Paul trudged on.  He
+met few persons, the road not being very much
+frequented.  He was now at least twelve miles
+from his starting-place, and began to feel very
+sensibly the effects of heat and fatigue
+combined.  He threw himself down upon the grass
+under the overhanging branches of an apple-
+tree to rest.  After his long walk repose
+seemed delicious, and with a feeling of
+exquisite enjoyment he stretched himself out at
+full length upon the soft turf, and closed his eyes.
+
+Insensibly he fell asleep.  How long he slept
+he could not tell.  He was finally roused from
+his slumber by something cold touching his
+cheek.  Starting up he rubbed his eyes in
+bewilderment, and gradually became aware that
+this something was the nose of a Newfoundland
+dog, whose keen scent had enabled him
+to discover the whereabouts of the small stock
+of provisions with which Paul had been
+supplied by his late companion.  Fortunately he
+awoke in time to save its becoming the prey of
+its canine visitor.
+
+"I reckon you came nigh losing your dinner,"
+fell upon his ears in a rough but hearty tone.
+
+At the same time he heard the noise of
+wheels, and looking up, beheld a specimen of
+a class well known throughout New England
+--a tin pedler.  He was seated on a cart liberally
+stocked with articles of tin ware.  From
+the rear depended two immense bags, one of
+which served as a receptacle for white rags, the
+other for bits of calico and whatever else may
+fall under the designation of "colored."  His
+shop, for such it was, was drawn at a brisk
+pace by a stout horse, who in this respect
+presented a contrast to his master, who was long
+and lank.  The pedler himself was a man of
+perhaps forty, with a face in which shrewdness
+and good humor seemed alike indicated.  Take
+him for all in all, you might travel some distance
+without falling in with a more complete
+specimen of the Yankee.
+
+"So you came nigh losing your dinner," he
+repeated, in a pleasant tone.
+
+"Yes," said Paul, "I got tired and fell
+asleep, and I don't know when I should have
+waked up but for your dog."
+
+"Yes, Boney's got a keen scent for
+provisions," laughed the pedler.  "He's a little
+graspin', like his namesake.  You see his real
+name is Bonaparte; we only call him Boney,
+for short."
+
+Meanwhile he had stopped his horse.  He
+was about to start afresh, when a thought
+struck him.
+
+"Maybe you're goin' my way," said he, turning
+to Paul; "if you are, you're welcome to a ride."
+
+Paul was very glad to accept the invitation. 
+He clambered into the cart, and took a seat
+behind the pedler, while Boney, who took his
+recent disappointment very good-naturedly,
+jogged on contentedly behind.
+
+"How far are you goin'?" asked Paul's
+new acquaintance, as he whipped up his horse.
+
+Paul felt a little embarrassed.  If he had
+been acquainted with the names of any of the
+villages on the route he might easily have answered.
+As it was, only one name occurred to him.
+
+"I think," said he, with some hesitation,
+"that I shall go to New York."
+
+"New York!" repeated the pedler, with a
+whistle expressive of his astonishment.
+
+"Well, you've a journey before you.
+Got any relations there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"No uncles, aunts, cousins, nor nothing?"
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"Then what makes you go?  Haven't run
+away from your father and mother, hey?"
+asked the pedler, with a knowing look.
+
+"I have no father nor mother," said Paul,
+sadly enough.
+
+"Well, you had somebody to take care of
+you, I calculate.  Where did you live?"
+
+"If I tell you, you won't carry me back?"
+said Paul, anxiously.
+
+"Not a bit of it.  I've got too much business
+on hand for that."
+
+Relieved by this assurance, Paul told his
+story, encouraged thereto by frequent questions
+from his companion, who seemed to take a lively
+interest in the adventures of his young companion.
+
+"That's a capital trick you played on old
+Mudge," he said with a hearty laugh which
+almost made the tins rattle.  "I don't blame
+you a bit for running away.  I've got a story to
+tell you about Mrs. Mudge.  She's a regular skinflint."
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+WAYSIDE GOSSIP.
+
+
+This was the pedler's promised story about
+Mrs. Mudge.
+
+"The last time I was round that way, I
+stopped, thinking maybe they might have some
+rags to dispose of for tin-ware.  The old lady
+seemed glad to see me, and pretty soon she
+brought down a lot of white rags.  I thought
+they seemed quite heavy for their bulk,--
+howsomever, I wasn't looking for any tricks, and
+I let it go.  By-and-by, when I happened to
+be ransacking one of the bags, I came across
+half a dozen pounds or more of old iron tied
+up in a white cloth.  That let the cat out of the
+bag.  I knew why they were so heavy, then, I
+reckon I shan't call on Mrs. Mudge next time
+I go by."
+
+"So you've run off," he continued, after a
+pause, "I like your spunk,--just what I should
+have done myself.  But tell me how you managed
+to get off without the old chap's finding
+it out."
+
+Paul related such of his adventures as he
+had not before told, his companion listening
+with marked approval.
+
+"I wish I'd been there," he said.  "I'd have
+given fifty cents, right out, to see how old
+Mudge looked, I calc'late he's pretty well tired
+with his wild-goose chase by this time."
+
+It was now twelve o'clock, and both the
+travelers began to feel the pangs of hunger.
+
+"It's about time to bait, I calc'late,"
+remarked the pedler.
+
+The unsophisticated reader is informed that
+the word "bait," in New England phraseology,
+is applied to taking lunch or dining.
+
+At this point a green lane opened out of the
+public road, skirted on either side by a row of
+trees.  Carpeted with green, it made a very
+pleasant dining-room.  A red-and-white heifer
+browsing at a little distance looked up from
+her meal and surveyed the intruders with mild
+attention, but apparently satisfied that they
+contemplated no invasion of her rights, resumed
+her agreeable employment.  Over an
+irregular stone wall our travelers looked into
+a thrifty apple-orchard laden with fruit.  They
+halted beneath a spreading chestnut-tree
+which towered above its neighbors, and offered
+them a grateful shelter from the noonday sun.
+
+From the box underneath the seat, the pedler
+took out a loaf of bread, a slice of butter,
+and a tin pail full of doughnuts.  Paul, on his
+side, brought out his bread and gingerbread.
+
+"I most generally carry round my own
+provisions," remarked the pedler, between two
+mouthfuls.  "It's a good deal cheaper and
+more convenient, too.  Help yourself to the
+doughnuts.  I always calc'late to have some
+with me.  I'd give more for 'em any day than
+for rich cake that ain't fit for anybody.  My
+mother used to beat everybody in the neighborhood
+on making doughnuts.  She made 'em so
+good that we never knew when to stop eating.
+You wouldn't hardly believe it, but, when I
+was a little shaver, I remember eating twenty-
+three doughnuts at one time.  Pretty nigh
+killed me."
+
+"I should think it might," said Paul, laughing.
+
+"Mother got so scared that she vowed she
+wouldn't fry another for three months, but I
+guess she kinder lost the run of the almanac,
+for in less than a week she turned out about a
+bushel more."
+
+All this time the pedler was engaged in
+practically refuting the saying, that a man
+cannot do two things at once.  With a little
+assistance from Paul, the stock of doughnuts
+on which he had been lavishing encomiums,
+diminished rapidly.  It was evident that his
+attachment to this homely article of diet was
+quite as strong as ever.
+
+"Don't be afraid of them," said he, seeing
+that Paul desisted from his efforts, "I've got
+plenty more in the box."
+
+Paul signified that his appetite was already appeased.
+
+"Then we might as well be jogging on.  Hey,
+Goliah," said he, addressing the horse, who
+with an air of great content, had been browsing
+while his master was engaged in a similar
+manner.  "Queer name for a horse, isn't it? 
+I wanted something out of the common way,
+so I asked mother for a name, and she gave me
+that.  She's great on scripture names, mother
+is.  She gave one to every one of her children. 
+It didn't make much difference to her what
+they were as long as they were in the Bible.  I
+believe she used to open the Bible at random,
+and take the first name she happened to come
+across.  There are eight of us, and nary a
+decent name in the lot.  My oldest brother's
+name is Abimelech.  Then there's Pharaoh,
+and Ishmael, and Jonadab, for the boys, and
+Leah and Naomi, for the girls; but my name
+beats all.  You couldn't guess it?"
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"I don't believe you could," said the pedler,
+shaking his head in comic indignation.  "It's
+Jehoshaphat.  Ain't that a respectable name
+for the son of Christian parents?"
+
+Paul laughed.
+
+"It wouldn't be so bad," continued the
+pedler, "if my other name was longer; but Jehoshaphat
+seems rather a long handle to put before
+Stubbs.  I can't say I feel particularly
+proud of the name, though for use it'll do as
+well as any other.  At any rate, it ain't quite
+so bad as the name mother pitched on for my
+youngest sister, who was lucky enough to die
+before she needed a name."
+
+"What was it?" inquired Paul, really
+curious to know what name could be considered
+less desirable than Jehoshaphat.
+
+"It was Jezebel," responded the pedler.
+
+"Everybody told mother 'twould never do;
+but she was kind of superstitious about it,
+because that was the first name she came to in
+the Bible, and so she thought it was the Lord's
+will that that name should be given to the child."
+
+As Mr. Stubbs finished his disquisition upon
+names, there came in sight a small house, dark
+and discolored with age and neglect.  He
+pointed this out to Paul with his whip-handle.
+
+"That," said he, "is where old Keziah
+Onthank lives.  Ever heard of him?"
+
+Paul had not.
+
+"He's the oldest man in these parts,"
+pursued his loquacious companion.  "There's
+some folks that seem a dyin' all the time, and
+for all that manage to outlive half the young
+folks in the neighborhood.  Old Keziah Onthank
+is a complete case in p'int.  As long ago
+as when I was cutting my teeth he was so old
+that nobody know'd how old he was.  He was
+so bowed over that he couldn't see himself in
+the looking-glass unless you put it on the floor,
+and I guess even then what he saw wouldn't
+pay him for his trouble.  He was always ailin'
+some way or other.  Now it was rheumatism,
+now the palsy, and then again the asthma.  He
+had THAT awful.
+
+"He lived in the same tumble-down old
+shanty we have just passed,--so poor that
+nobody'd take the gift of it.  People said that
+he'd orter go to the poorhouse, so that when he
+was sick--which was pretty much all the time
+--he'd have somebody to take care of him. 
+But he'd got kinder attached to the old place,
+seein' he was born there, and never lived anywhere
+else, and go he wouldn't.
+
+"Everybody expected he was near his end,
+and nobody'd have been surprised to hear of
+his death at any minute.  But it's strange how
+some folks are determined to live on, as I said
+before.  So Keziah, though he looked so old
+when I was a boy that it didn't seem as if he
+could look any older, kept on livin,' and livin',
+and arter I got married to Betsy Sprague, he
+was livin' still.
+
+"One day, I remember I was passin' by the
+old man's shanty, when I heard a dreadful
+groanin', and thinks I to myself, `I shouldn't
+wonder if the old man was on his last legs.'
+So in I bolted.  There he was, to be sure, a
+lyin', on the bed, all curled up into a heap,
+breathin' dreadful hard, and lookin' as white
+and pale as any ghost.  I didn't know exactly
+what to do, so I went and got some water, but
+he motioned it away, and wouldn't drink it,
+but kept on groanin'.
+
+"`He mustn't be left here to die without
+any assistance,' thinks I, so I ran off as fast I
+could to find the doctor.
+
+"I found him eatin' dinner----
+
+"Come quick," says I, "to old Keziah Onthank's.
+He's dyin', as sure as my name is Jehoshaphat."
+
+"Well," said the doctor, "die or no die, I
+can't come till I've eaten my dinner."
+
+"But he's dyin', doctor."
+
+"Oh, nonsense.  Talk of old Keziah Onthank's
+dyin'.  He'll live longer than I shall."
+
+"I recollect I thought the doctor very
+unfeelin' to talk so of a fellow creetur, just
+stepping into eternity, as a body may say.  However,
+it's no use drivin' a horse that's made up
+his mind he won't go, so although I did think
+the doctor dreadful deliberate about eatin' his
+dinner (he always would take half an hour for
+it), I didn't dare to say a word for fear he
+wouldn't come at all.  You see the doctor was
+dreadful independent, and was bent on havin'
+his own way, pretty much, though for that
+matter I think it's the case with most folks. 
+However, to come back to my story, I didn't
+feel particularly comfortable while I was
+waitin' his motions.
+
+"After a long while the doctor got ready.  I
+was in such a hurry that I actilly pulled him
+along, he walked so slow; but he only laughed,
+and I couldn't help thinkin' that doctorin' had
+a hardinin' effect on the heart.  I was determined
+if ever I fell sick I wouldn't send for him.
+
+"At last we got there.  I went in all of a
+tremble, and crept to the bed, thinkin' I
+should see his dead body.  But he wasn't there
+at all.  I felt a little bothered you'd better
+believe."
+
+"Well," said the doctor, turning to me with
+a smile, "what do you think now?"
+
+"I don't know what to think," said I.
+
+"Then I'll help you," said he.
+
+"So sayin', he took me to the winder, and
+what do you think I see?  As sure as I'm alive,
+there was the old man in the back yard, a
+squattin' down and pickin' up chips."
+
+"And is he still living?"
+
+"Yes, or he was when I come along last. 
+The doctor's been dead these ten years.  He
+told me old Keziah would outlive him, but I
+didn't believe him.  I shouldn't be surprised if
+he lived forever."
+
+Paul listened with amused interest to this
+and other stories with which his companion
+beguiled the way.  They served to divert his
+mind from the realities of his condition, and
+the uncertainty which hung over his worldly
+prospects.
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY.
+
+
+"If you're in no great hurry to go to New
+York," said the pedler, "I should like to have
+you stay with me for a day or two.  I live
+about twenty-five miles from here, straight
+ahead, so it will be on your way.  I always
+manage to get home by Saturday night if it is
+any way possible.  It doesn't seem comfortable
+to be away Sunday.  As to-day is Friday,
+I shall get there to-morrow.  So you can lie
+over a day and rest yourself."
+
+Paul felt grateful for this unexpected
+invitation.  It lifted quite a load from his mind,
+since, as the day declined, certain anxious
+thoughts as to where he should find shelter,
+had obtruded themselves.  Even now, the
+same trouble would be experienced on Monday
+night, but it is the characteristic of youth to
+pay little regard to anticipated difficulties as
+long as the present is provided for.
+
+It must not be supposed that the pedler
+neglected his business on account of his companion. 
+On the road he had been traveling the
+houses were few and far between.  He had,
+therefore, but few calls to make.  Paul
+remarked, however, that when he did call he
+seldom failed to sell something.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Stubbs, on being interrogated,
+"I make it a p'int to sell something, if
+it's no more than a tin dipper.  I find some
+hard cases sometimes, and sometimes I have
+to give it up altogether.  I can't quite come up
+to a friend of mine, Daniel Watson, who used
+to be in the same line of business.  I never
+knew him to stop at a place without selling
+something.  He had a good deal of judgment,
+Daniel had, and knew just when to use `soft
+sodder,' and when not to.  On the road that
+he traveled there lived a widow woman, who
+had the reputation of being as ugly, cross-
+grained a critter as ever lived.  People used to
+say that it was enough to turn milk sour for
+her even to look at it.  Well, it so happened
+that Daniel had never called there.  One night
+he was boasting that he never called at a
+house without driving a bargain, when one of
+the company asked him, with a laugh, if he
+had ever sold the widow anything.
+
+"Why, no," said Daniel, "I never called
+there; but I've no doubt I could."
+
+"What'll you bet of it?"
+
+"I'm not a betting man," said Daniel, "but
+I feel so sure of it that I don't mind risking
+five dollars."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"The next morning Daniel drove leisurely
+up to the widow's door and knocked.  She had
+a great aversion to pedlers, and declared they
+were cheats, every one of them.  She was busy
+sweeping when Daniel knocked.  She came to
+the door in a dreadful hurry, hoping it might
+be an old widower in the neighborhood that
+she was trying to catch.  When she saw how
+much she was mistaken she looked as black as
+a thundercloud.
+
+"Want any tin ware to-day, ma'am?"
+inquired Daniel, noways discomposed.
+
+"No, sir," snapped she.
+
+"Got all kinds,--warranted the best in the
+market.  Couldn't I sell you something?"
+
+"Not a single thing," said she, preparing
+to shut the door; but Daniel, knowing all
+would then be lost, stepped in before she could
+shut it quite to, and began to name over some
+of the articles he had in his wagon.
+
+"You may talk till doomsday," said the
+widow, as mad as could be, "and it won't do
+a particle of good.  Now, you've got your
+answer, and you'd better leave the house before
+you are driven out."
+
+"Brooms, brushes, lamps----"
+
+"Here the widow, who had been trying to
+keep in her anger, couldn't hold out any
+longer.  She seized the broom she had been
+sweeping with, and brought it down with a
+tremendous whack upon Daniel's back.  You
+can imagine how hard it was, when I tell you
+that the force of the blow snapped the broom
+in the middle.  You might have thought
+Daniel would resent it, but he didn't appear to
+notice it, though it must have hurt him awful. 
+He picked up the pieces, and handing them,
+with a polite bow, to the widow, said, "Now,
+ma'am, I'm sure you need a new broom.  I've
+got some capital ones out in the cart."
+
+"The widow seemed kind of overpowered
+by his coolness.  She hardly knew what to say
+or what to think.  However, she had broken
+her old broom, that was certain, and must
+have a new one; so when Daniel ran out and
+brought in a bundle of them, she picked out
+one and paid for it without saying a word;
+only, when Daniel asked if he might have the
+pleasure of calling again, she looked a little
+queer, and told him that if he considered it a
+pleasure, she had no objection."
+
+"And did he call again?"
+
+"Yes, whenever he went that way.  The
+widow was always very polite to him after
+that, and, though she had a mortal dislike to
+pedlers in general, she was always ready to
+trade with him.  Daniel used to say that he
+gained his bet and the widow's custom at ONE BLOW."
+
+They were now descending a little hill at the
+foot of which stood a country tavern.  Here
+Mr. Stubbs declared his intention of spending
+the night.  He drove into the barn, the
+large door of which stood invitingly open, and
+unharnessed his horse, taking especial care to
+rub him down and set before him an ample
+supply of provender.
+
+"I always take care of Goliah myself," said
+he.  "He's a good friend to me, and it's no
+more than right that I should take good care
+of him.  Now, we'll go into the house, and see
+what we can get for supper."
+
+He was surprised to see that Paul hung
+back, and seemed disinclined to follow.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Stubbs, in
+surprise.  "Why don't you come?"
+
+"Because," said Paul, looking embarrassed,
+"I've got no money."
+
+"Well, I have," said Mr. Stubbs, "and that
+will answer just as well, so come along, and
+don't be bashful.  I'm about as hungry as a
+bear, and I guess you are too."
+
+Before many minutes, Paul sat down to a
+more bountiful repast than he had partaken
+of for many a day.  There were warm biscuits
+and fresh butter, such as might please the palate
+of an epicure, while at the other end of the
+table was a plate of cake, flanked on one side
+by an apple-pie, on the other by one of pumpkin,
+with its rich golden hue, such as is to be
+found in its perfection, only in New England. 
+It will scarcely be doubted that our hungry travellers
+did full justice to the fare set before them.
+
+When they had finished, they went into the
+public room, where were engaged some of the
+village worthies, intent on discussing the news
+and the political questions of the day.  It was
+a time of considerable political excitement,
+and this naturally supplied the topic of
+conversation.  In this the pedler joined, for his
+frequent travel on this route had made him
+familiarly acquainted with many of those present.
+
+Paul sat in a corner, trying to feel
+interested in the conversation; but the day had
+been a long one, and he had undergone an unusual
+amount of fatigue.  Gradually, his
+drowsiness increased.  The many voices fell
+upon his ears like a lullaby, and in a few
+minutes he was fast asleep.
+
+Early next morning they were up and on
+their way.  It was the second morning since
+Paul's departure.  Already a sense of
+freedom gave his spirits unwonted elasticity, and
+encouraged him to hope for the best.  Had his
+knowledge of the future been greater, his
+confidence might have been less.  But would he
+have been any happier?
+
+So many miles separated him from his late
+home, that he supposed himself quite safe from
+detection.  A slight circumstance warned him
+that he must still be watchful and cautious.
+
+As they were jogging easily along, they
+heard the noise of wheels at a little distance. 
+Paul looked up.  To his great alarms he recognized
+in the driver of the approaching vehicle,
+one of the selectmen of Wrenville.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked his companion,
+noticing his sudden look of apprehension.
+
+Paul quickly communicated the ground of
+his alarm.
+
+"And you are afraid he will want to carry
+you back, are you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Not a bit of it.  We'll circumvent the old
+fellow, unless he's sharper than I think he is. 
+You've only got to do as I tell you."
+
+To this Paul quickly agreed.
+
+The selectman was already within a
+hundred rods.  He had not yet apparently noticed
+the pedler's cart, so that this was in our hero's
+favor.  Mr. Stubbs had already arranged his
+plan of operations.
+
+"This is what you are to do, Paul," said he,
+quickly.  "Cock your hat on the side of your
+head, considerably forward, so that he can't
+see much of your face.  Then here's a cigar to
+stick in your mouth.  You can make believe
+that you are smoking.  If you are the sort of
+boy I reckon you are, he'll never think it's you."
+
+Paul instantly adopted this suggestion.
+
+Slipping his hat to one side in the jaunty
+manner characteristic of young America, he
+began to puff very gravely at a cigar the
+pedler handed him, frequently taking it from his
+mouth, as he had seen older persons do, to
+knock away the ashes.  Nothwithstanding his
+alarm, his love of fun made him enjoy this
+little stratagem, in which he bore his part
+successfully.
+
+The selectman eyed him intently.  Paul
+began to tremble from fear of discovery, but his
+apprehensions were speedily dissipated by a
+remark of the new-comer, "My boy, you are
+forming a very bad habit."
+
+Paul did not dare to answer lest his voice should
+betray him.  To his relief, the pedler spoke----
+
+"Just what I tell him, sir, but I suppose he
+thinks he must do as his father does."
+
+By this time the vehicles had passed each
+other, and the immediate peril was over.
+
+"Now, Paul," said his companion, laughing,
+"I'll trouble you for that cigar, if you have
+done with it.  The old gentleman's advice was
+good.  If I'd never learned to smoke, I
+wouldn't begin now."
+
+Our hero was glad to take the cigar from
+his mouth.  The brief time he had held it was
+sufficient to make him slightly dizzy.
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+PAUL REACHES THE CITY.
+
+
+Towards evening they drew up before a
+small house with a neat yard in front.
+
+"I guess we'll get out here," said Mr.
+Stubbs.  "There's a gentleman lives here that
+I feel pretty well acquainted with.  Shouldn't
+wonder if he'd let us stop over Sunday. 
+Whoa, Goliah, glad to get home, hey?" as the
+horse pricked up his ears and showed manifest
+signs of satisfaction.
+
+"Now, youngster, follow me, and I guess I
+can promise you some supper, if Mrs. Stubbs
+hasn't forgotten her old tricks."
+
+They passed through the entry into the
+kitchen, where Mrs. Stubbs was discovered
+before the fire toasting slices of bread.
+
+"Lor, Jehoshaphat," said she, "I didn't
+expect you so soon," and she looked inquiringly
+at his companion.
+
+"A young friend who is going to stay with
+us till Monday," explained the pedler.  "His
+name is Paul Prescott."
+
+"I'm glad to see you, Paul," said Mrs.
+Stubbs with a friendly smile.  "You must be
+tired if you've been traveling far.  Take a seat. 
+Here's a rocking-chair for you."
+
+This friendly greeting made Paul feel quite
+at home.  Having no children, the pedler and
+his wife exerted themselves to make the time
+pass pleasantly to their young acquaintance. 
+Paul could not help contrasting them with
+Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, not very much to the
+advantage of the latter.  On Sunday he went to
+church with them, and the peculiar circumstances
+in which he was placed, made him listen
+to the sermon with unusual attention.  It
+was an exposition of the text, "My help
+cometh from the Lord," and Paul could not
+help feeling that it was particularly applicable
+to his own case.  It encouraged him to
+hope, that, however uncertain his prospects
+appeared, God would help him if he put his
+trust in Him.
+
+On Monday morning Paul resumed his journey,
+with an ample stock of provisions supplied
+by Mrs. Stubbs, in the list of which
+doughnuts occupied a prominent place; this
+being at the particular suggestion of Mr. Stubbs.
+
+Forty or fifty miles remained to be
+traversed before his destination would be reached. 
+The road was not a difficult one to find, and
+he made it out without much questioning.
+The first night, he sought permission to sleep
+in a barn.
+
+He met with a decided refusal.
+
+He was about to turn away in disappointment,
+when he was called back.
+
+"You are a little too fast, youngster.  I said
+I wouldn't let you sleep in my barn, and I
+won't; but I've got a spare bed in the house,
+and if you choose you shall occupy it."
+
+Under the guise of roughness, this man had
+a kind heart.  He inquired into the particulars
+of Paul's story, and at the conclusion terrified
+him by saying that he had been very
+foolish and ought to be sent back.  Nevertheless,
+when Paul took leave of him the next
+morning, he did not go away empty-handed.
+
+"If you must be so foolish as to set up for
+yourself, take this," said the farmer, placing
+half a dollar in his hand.  "You may reach
+the city after the banks are closed for the day,
+you know," he added, jocularly.
+
+But it was in the morning that Paul came
+in sight of the city.  He climbed up into a high
+tree, which, having the benefit of an elevated
+situation, afforded him an extensive prospect. 
+Before him lay the great city of which
+he had so often heard, teeming with life and
+activity.
+
+Half in eager anticipation, half in awe and
+wonder at its vastness, our young pilgrim
+stood upon the threshold of this great Babel.
+
+Everything looked new and strange.  It had
+never entered Paul's mind, that there could
+be so many houses in the whole State as now
+rose up before him.  He got into Broadway,
+and walked on and on thinking that the street
+must end somewhere.  But the farther he
+walked the thicker the houses seemed crowded
+together.  Every few rods, too, he came to a
+cross street, which seemed quite as densely
+peopled as the one on which he was walking. 
+One part of the city was the same as another
+to Paul, since he was equally a stranger to all. 
+He wandered listlessly along, whither fancy
+led.  His mind was constantly excited by the
+new and strange objects which met him at
+every step.
+
+As he was looking in at a shop window, a
+boy of about his own age, stopped and inquired
+confidentially, "when did you come
+from the country?"
+
+"This morning," said Paul, wondering how a stranger
+should know that he was a country boy.
+
+"Could you tell me what is the price of
+potatoes up your way?" asked the other boy,
+with perfect gravity.
+
+"I don't know," said Paul, innocently.
+
+"I'm sorry for that," said the other, "as I
+have got to buy some for my wife and family."
+
+Paul stared in surprise for a moment, and
+then realizing that he was being made game
+of, began to grow angry.
+
+"You'd better go home to your wife and family,"
+he said with spirit, "or you may get hurt."
+
+"Bully for you, country!" answered the other
+with a laugh.  "You're not as green as you look."
+
+"Thank you," said Paul, "I wish I could
+say as much for you."
+
+Tired with walking, Paul at length sat
+down in a doorway, and watched with interest
+the hurrying crowds that passed before him. 
+Everybody seemed to be in a hurry, pressing
+forward as if life and death depended on his
+haste.  There were lawyers with their sharp,
+keen glances; merchants with calculating
+faces; speculators pondering on the chances
+of a rise or fall in stocks; errand boys with
+bundles under their arms; business men hurrying
+to the slip to take the boat for Brooklyn
+or Jersey City,--all seemed intent on business
+of some kind, even to the ragged newsboys
+who had just obtained their supply of evening
+papers, and were now crying them at the top
+of their voices,--and very discordant ones at
+that, so Paul thought.  Of the hundreds
+passing and repassing before him, every one had
+something to do.  Every one had a home to go
+to.  Perhaps it was not altogether strange that
+a feeling of desolation should come over Paul
+as he recollected that he stood alone, homeless,
+friendless, and, it might be, shelterless for the
+coming night.
+
+"Yet," thought he with something of
+hopefulness, "there must be something for me to
+do as well as the rest."
+
+Just then a boy some two years older than
+Paul paced slowly by, and in passing, chanced
+to fix his eyes upon our hero.  He probably
+saw something in Paul which attracted him,
+for he stepped up and extending his hand,
+said, "why, Tom, how came you here?"
+
+"My name isn't Tom," said Paul, feeling a
+little puzzled by this address.
+
+"Why, so it isn't.  But you look just like
+my friend, Tom Crocker."
+
+To this succeeded a few inquiries, which
+Paul unsuspiciously answered.
+
+"Do you like oysters?" inquired the new
+comer, after a while.
+
+"Very much."
+
+"Because I know of a tip top place to get
+some, just round the corner.  Wouldn't you
+like some?"
+
+Paul thanked his new acquaintance, and
+said he would.
+
+Without more ado, his companion ushered
+him into a basement room near by.  He led the
+way into a curtained recess, and both boys
+took seats one on each side of a small table.
+
+"Just pull the bell, will you, and tell the
+waiter we'll have two stews."
+
+Paul did so.
+
+"I suppose," continued the other, "the governor
+wouldn't like it much if he knew where I was."
+
+"The governor!" repeated Paul.  "Why, it
+isn't against the laws, is it?"
+
+"No," laughed the other.  "I mean my
+father.  How jolly queer you are!"  He
+meant to say green, but had a purpose in not
+offending Paul.
+
+"Are you the Governor's son?" asked Paul in amazement.
+
+"To be sure," carelessly replied the other.
+
+Paul's wonder had been excited many times
+in the course of the day, but this was more
+surprising than anything which had yet befallen
+him.  That he should have the luck to fall in
+with the son of the Governor, on his first
+arrival in the city, and that the latter should
+prove so affable and condescending, was indeed
+surprising.  Paul inwardly determined to
+mention it in his first letter to Aunt Lucy.  He
+could imagine her astonishment.
+
+While he was busy with these thoughts, his
+companion had finished his oysters.
+
+"Most through?" he inquired nonchalantly.
+
+"I've got to step out a minute; wait till I
+come back."
+
+Paul unsuspectingly assented.
+
+He heard his companion say a word to the
+barkeeper, and then go out.
+
+He waited patiently for fifteen minutes and
+he did not return; another quarter of an hour,
+and he was still absent.  Thinking he might
+have been unexpectedly detained, he rose to
+go, but was called back by the barkeeper.
+
+"Hallo, youngster! are you going off without paying?"
+
+"For what?" inquired Paul, in surprise.
+
+"For the oysters, of course.  You don't
+suppose I give 'em away, do you?"
+
+"I thought," hesitated Paul, "that the one
+who was with me paid,--the Governor's son,"
+he added, conscious of a certain pride in his
+intimacy with one so nearly related to the
+chief magistrate of the Commonwealth.
+
+"The Governor's son," laughed the barkeeper. 
+"Why the Governor lives a hundred
+miles off and more.  That wasn't the Governor's
+son any more than I am."
+
+"He called his father governor," said Paul,
+beginning to be afraid that he had made some
+ridiculous blunder.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't advise you to trust him
+again, even if he's the President's son.  He
+only got you in here to pay for his oysters. 
+He told me when he went out that you would
+pay for them."
+
+"And didn't he say he was coming back?"
+asked Paul, quite dumbfounded.
+
+"He said you hadn't quite finished,
+but would pay for both when you came out.
+It's two shillings.
+
+Paul rather ruefully took out the half dollar
+which constituted his entire stock of money,
+and tendered it to the barkeeper who returned
+him the change.
+
+So Paul went out into the streets, with his
+confidence in human nature somewhat lessened.
+
+Here, then, is our hero with twenty-five
+cents in his pocket, and his fortune to make.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+A STRANGE BED-CHAMBER.
+
+
+Although Paul could not help being vexed
+at having been so cleverly taken in by his late
+companion, he felt the better for having eaten
+the oysters.  Carefully depositing his only
+remaining coin in his pocket, he resumed his
+wanderings.  It is said that a hearty meal is a
+good promoter of cheerfulness.  It was so in
+Paul's case, and although he had as yet had no
+idea where he should find shelter for the night
+he did not allow that consideration to trouble him.
+
+So the day passed, and the evening came on. 
+Paul's appetite returned to him once more. 
+He invested one-half of his money at an old
+woman's stall for cakes and apples, and then
+he ate leisurely while leaning against the iron
+railing which encircles the park.
+
+He began to watch with interest the movements
+of those about him.  Already the lamplighter
+had started on his accustomed round,
+and with ladder in hand was making his way
+from one lamp-post to another.  Paul quite
+marvelled at the celerity with which the lamps
+were lighted, never before having witnessed
+the use of gas.  He was so much interested in
+the process that he sauntered along behind the
+lamplighter for some time.  At length his eye
+fell upon a group common enough in our cities,
+but new to him.
+
+An Italian, short and dark-featured, with
+a velvet cap, was grinding out music from a
+hand-organ, while a woman with a complexion
+equally dark, and black sorrowful-looking
+eyes, accompanied her husband on the tambourine. 
+They were playing a lively tune as
+Paul came up, but quickly glided into "Home,
+Sweet Home."
+
+Paul listened with pleased, yet sad interest,
+for him "home" was only a sad remembrance.
+
+He wandered on, pausing now and then to
+look into one of the brilliantly illuminated
+shop windows, or catching a glimpse through
+the open doors of the gay scene within, and
+as one after another of these lively scenes
+passed before him, he began to think that all
+the strange and wonderful things in the world
+must be collected in these rich stores.
+
+Next, he came to a place of public amusement. 
+Crowds were entering constantly, and
+Paul, from curiosity, entered too.  He passed
+on to a little wicket, when a man stopped him.
+
+"Where's your ticket?" he asked.
+
+"I haven't got any," said Paul.
+
+"Then what business have you here?" said
+the man, roughly.
+
+"Isn't this a meeting-house?" asked Paul.
+
+This remark seemed to amuse two boys who
+were standing by.  Looking up with some
+indignation, Paul recognized in one of them the
+boy who had cheated him out of the oysters.
+
+`Look here," said Paul, "what made you go off
+and leave me to pay for the oysters this morning?"
+
+"Which of us do you mean?" inquired the
+"governor's son," carelessly.
+
+"I mean you."
+
+"Really, I don't understand your meaning. 
+Perhaps you mistake me for somebody else."
+
+"What?" said Paul, in great astonishment. 
+"Don't you remember me, and how you told
+me you were the Governor's son?"
+
+Both boys laughed.
+
+"You must be mistaken.  I haven't the
+honor of being related to the distinguished
+gentleman you name."
+
+The speaker made a mocking bow to Paul.
+
+"I know that," said Paul, with spirit, "but
+you said you were, for all that."
+
+"It must have been some other good-looking
+boy, that you are mistaking me for.  What are
+you going to do about it?  I hope, by the way,
+that the oysters agreed with you."
+
+"Yes, they did," said Paul, "for I came
+honestly by them."
+
+"He's got you there, Gerald," said the other boy.
+
+Paul made his way out of the theater.  As
+his funds were reduced to twelve cents, he
+could not have purchased a ticket if he had
+desired it.
+
+Still he moved on.
+
+Soon he came to another building, which
+was in like manner lighted up, but not so
+brilliantly as the theater.  This time, from the
+appearance of the building, and from the tall
+steeple,--so tall that his eye could scarcely
+reach the tapering spire,--he knew that it
+must be a church.  There was not such a
+crowd gathered about the door as at the place
+he had just left, but he saw a few persons
+entering, and he joined them.  The interior of
+the church was far more gorgeous than the
+plain village meeting-house which he had been
+accustomed to attend with his mother.  He
+gazed about him with a feeling of awe, and
+sank quietly into a back pew.  As it was a
+week-day evening, and nothing of unusual
+interest was anticipated, there were but few
+present, here and there one, scattered through
+the capacious edifice.
+
+By-and-by the organist commenced playing,
+and a flood of music, grander and more solemn
+than he had ever heard, filled the whole edifice. 
+He listened with rapt attention and suspended
+breath till the last note died away, and then
+sank back upon the richly cushioned seat with
+a feeling of enjoyment.
+
+In the services which followed he was not so
+much interested.  The officiating clergyman
+delivered a long homily in a dull unimpassioned
+manner, which failed to awaken his interest. 
+Already disposed to be drowsy, it
+acted upon him like a gentle soporific.  He
+tried to pay attention as he had always been
+used to do, but owing to his occupying a back
+seat, and the low voice of the preacher, but
+few words reached him, and those for the most
+part were above his comprehension.
+
+Gradually the feeling of fatigue--for he had
+been walking the streets all day--became so
+powerful that his struggles to keep awake became
+harder and harder.  In vain he sat erect,
+resolved not to yield.  The moment afterwards
+his head inclined to one side; the lights began
+to swim before his eyes; the voice of the
+preacher subsided into a low and undistinguishable
+hum.  Paul's head sank upon the
+cushion, his bundle, which had been his constant
+companion during the day, fell softly to
+the floor, and he fell into a deep sleep.
+
+Meanwhile the sermon came to a close, and
+another hymn was sung, but even the music
+was insufficient to wake our hero now.  So the
+benediction was pronounced, and the people
+opened the doors of their pews and left the church.
+
+Last of all the sexton walked up and down
+the aisles, closing such of the pew doors as
+were open.  Then he shut off the gas, and after
+looking around to see that nothing was
+forgotten, went out, apparently satisfied, and
+locked the outer door behind him.
+
+Paul, meanwhile, wholly unconscious of his
+situation, slept on as tranquilly as if there
+were nothing unusual in the circumstances in
+which he was placed.  Through the stained
+windows the softened light fell upon his tranquil
+countenance, on which a smile played, as
+if his dreams were pleasant.  What would
+Aunt Lucy have thought if she could have seen
+her young friend at this moment?
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+A TURN OF FORTUNE.
+
+Notwithstanding his singular bedchamber,
+Paul had a refreshing night's sleep from which
+he did not awake till the sun had fairly risen,
+and its rays colored by the medium through
+which they were reflected, streamed in at the
+windows and rested in many fantastic lines on
+the richly carved pulpit and luxurious pews.
+
+Paul sprang to his feet and looked around
+him in bewilderment.
+
+"Where am I?" he exclaimed in astonishment.
+
+In the momentary confusion of ideas which
+is apt to follow a sudden awakening, he could
+not remember where he was, or how he chanced
+to be there.  But in a moment memory came to
+his aid, and he recalled the events of the
+preceding day, and saw that he must have been
+locked up in the church.
+
+"How am I going to get out?" Paul asked
+himself in dismay.
+
+This was the important question just now. 
+He remembered that the village meeting-house
+which he had been accustomed to attend was
+rarely opened except on Sundays.  What if
+this should be the case here?  It was Thursday
+morning, and three days must elapse before
+his release.  This would never do.  He must
+seek some earlier mode of deliverance.
+
+He went first to the windows, but found
+them so secured that it was impossible for him
+to get them open.  He tried the doors, but
+found, as he had anticipated, that they were
+fast.  His last resource failing, he was at
+liberty to follow the dictates of his curiosity.
+
+Finding a small door partly open, he peeped
+within, and found a flight of steep stairs rising
+before him.  They wound round and round,
+and seemed almost interminable.  At length,
+after he had become almost weary of ascending,
+he came to a small window, out of which
+he looked.  At his feet lay the numberless roofs
+of the city, while not far away his eye rested
+on thousands of masts.  The river sparkled in
+the sun, and Paul, in spite of his concern,
+could not help enjoying the scene.  The sound
+of horses and carriages moving along the
+great thoroughfare below came confusedly to
+his ears.  He leaned forward to look down, but
+the distance was so much greater than he had
+thought, that he drew back in alarm.
+
+"What shall I do?" Paul asked himself,
+rather frightened.  "I wonder if I can stand
+going without food for three days?  I suppose
+nobody would hear me if I should scream as
+loud as I could."
+
+Paul shouted, but there was so much noise
+in the streets that nobody probably heard him.
+
+He descended the staircase, and once more
+found himself in the body of the church.  He
+went up into the pulpit, but there seemed no
+hope of escape in that direction.  There was
+a door leading out on one side, but this only
+led to a little room into which the minister
+retired before service.
+
+It semmed rather odd to Paul to find himself
+the sole occupant of so large a building.  He
+began to wonder whether it would not have
+been better for him to stay in the poorhouse,
+than come to New York to die of starvation.
+
+Just at this moment Paul heard a key rattle
+in the outer door.  Filled with new hope, he
+ran down the pulpit stairs and out into the porch,
+just in time to see the entrance of the sexton.
+
+The sexton started in surprise as his eye
+fell upon Paul standing before him, with his
+bundle under his arm.
+
+"Where did you come from, and how came
+you here?" he asked with some suspicion.
+
+"I came in last night, and fell asleep."
+
+"So you passed the night here?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What made you come in at all?" inquired
+the sexton, who knew enough of boys to be
+curious upon this point.
+
+"I didn't know where else to go," said Paul.
+
+"Where do you live?"
+
+Paul answered with perfect truth, "I don't
+live anywhere."
+
+"What!  Have you no home?" asked the
+sexton in surprise.
+
+Paul shook his head.
+
+"Where should you have slept if you hadn't
+come in here?"
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure."
+
+"And I suppose you don't know where you
+shall sleep to-night?"
+
+Paul signified that he did not.
+
+"I knew there were plenty of such cases,"
+said the sexton, meditatively; "but I never
+seemed to realize it before."
+
+"How long have you been in New York?"
+was his next inquiry.
+
+"Not very long," said Paul.  "I only got
+here yesterday."
+
+"Then you don't know anybody in the city?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why did you come here, then?"
+
+"Because I wanted to go somewhere where
+I could earn a living, and I thought I might
+find something to do here."
+
+"But suppose you shouldn't find anything to do?"
+
+"I don't know," said Paul, slowly.  "I
+haven't thought much about that."
+
+"Well, my lad," said the sexton, not
+unkindly, "I can't say your prospects look very
+bright.  You should have good reasons for
+entering on such an undertaking.  I--I don't
+think you are a bad boy.  You don't look like
+a bad one," he added, half to himself.
+
+"I hope not, sir," said Paul.
+
+"I hope not, too.  I was going to say that
+I wish I could help you to some kind of work. 
+If you will come home with me, you shall be
+welcome to a dinner, and perhaps I may be
+able to think of something for you."
+
+Paul gladly prepared to follow his new acquaintance.
+
+"What is your name?" inquired the sexton.
+
+"Paul Prescott."
+
+"That sounds like a good name.  I suppose
+you haven't got much money?"
+
+"Only twelve cents."
+
+"Bless me! only twelve cents.  Poor boy!
+you are indeed poor."
+
+"But I can work," said Paul, spiritedly.  "I
+ought to be able to earn my living."
+
+"Yes, yes, that's the way to feel.  Heaven
+helps those who help themselves."
+
+When they were fairly out of the church,
+Paul had an opportunity of observing his companion's
+external appearance.  He was an elderly
+man, with harsh features, which would
+have been forbidding, but for a certain air of
+benevolence which softened their expression.
+
+As Paul walked along, he related, with less
+of detail, the story which is already known to
+the reader.  The sexton said little except in
+the way of questions designed to elicit further
+particulars, till, at the conclusion he said,
+"Must tell Hester."
+
+At length they came to a small house, in a
+respectable but not fashionable quarter of the
+city.  One-half of this was occupied by the
+sexton.  He opened the door and led the way into
+the sitting-room.  It was plainly but neatly
+furnished, the only ornament being one or two
+engravings cheaply framed and hung over the
+mantel-piece.  They were by no means gems of
+art, but then, the sexton did not claim to be a
+connoisseur, and would probably not have
+understood the meaning of the word.
+
+"Sit here a moment," said the sexton,
+pointing to a chair, "I'll go and speak to Hester."
+
+Paul whiled away the time in looking at the
+pictures in a copy of "The Pilgrim's Progress,"
+which lay on the table.
+
+In the next room sat a woman of perhaps
+fifty engaged in knitting.  It was very easy to
+see that she could never have possessed the
+perishable gift of beauty.  Hers was one of the
+faces on which nature has written PLAIN, in
+unmistakable characters.  Yet if the outward
+features had been a reflex of the soul within,
+few faces would have been more attractive
+than that of Hester Cameron.  At the feet of
+the sexton's wife, for such she was, reposed a
+maltese cat, purring softly by way of showing
+her contentment.  Indeed, she had good reason
+to be satisfied.  In default of children, puss
+had become a privileged pet, being well fed
+and carefully shielded from all the perils that
+beset cat-hood.
+
+"Home so soon?" said Hester inquiringly,
+as her husband opened the door.
+
+"Yes, Hester, and I have brought company
+with me," said the sexton.
+
+"Company!" repeated his wife.  "Who is it?"
+
+"It is a poor boy, who was accidentally
+locked up in the church last night."
+
+"And he had to stay there all night?"
+
+"Yes; but perhaps it was lucky for him, for
+he had no other place to sleep, and not money
+enough to pay for one."
+
+"Poor child!" said Hester, compassionately. 
+"Is it not terrible to think that any
+human creature should be without the comforts
+of a home which even our tabby possesses. 
+It ought to make you thankful that you are
+so well cared for, Tab."
+
+The cat opened her eyes and winked
+drowsily at her mistress.
+
+"So you brought the poor boy home, Hugh?"
+
+"Yes, Hester,--I thought we ought not to
+begrudge a meal to one less favored by fortune
+than ourselves.  You know we should consider
+ourselves the almoners of God's bounties."
+
+"Surely, Hugh."
+
+"I knew you would feel so, Hester.  And
+suppose we have the chicken for dinner that I
+sent in the morning.  I begin to have a famous
+appetite.  I think I should enjoy it."
+
+Hester knew perfectly well that it was for
+Paul's sake, and not for his own, that her
+husband spoke.  But she so far entered into
+his feelings, that she determined to expend her
+utmost skill as cook upon the dinner, that Paul
+might have at least one good meal.
+
+"Now I will bring the boy in," said he.  "I
+am obliged to go to work, but you will find
+some way to entertain him, I dare say."
+
+"If you will come out (this he said to
+Paul), I will introduce you to a new friend."
+
+Paul was kindly welcomed by the sexton's
+wife, who questioned him in a sympathizing
+tone about his enforced stay in the church.  To
+all her questions Paul answered in a modest
+yet manly fashion, so as to produce a decidedly
+favorable impression upon his entertainer.
+
+Our hero was a handsome boy.  Just at
+present he was somewhat thin, not having
+entirely recovered from the effects of his sickness
+and poor fare while a member of Mr. Mudge's
+family; but he was well made, and bade fair
+to become a stout boy.  His manner was free
+and unembarrassed, and he carried a letter of
+recommendation in his face.  It must be admitted,
+however that there were two points in
+which his appearance might have been improved. 
+Both his hands and face had suffered
+from the dust of travel.  His clothes, too, were
+full of dust.
+
+A single glance told Hester all this, and she
+resolved to remedy it.
+
+She quietly got some water and a towel, and
+requested Paul to pull off his jacket, which
+she dusted while he was performing his
+ablutions.  Then, with the help of a comb to
+arrange his disordered hair, he seemed quite like
+a new boy, and felt quite refreshed by the operation.
+
+"Really, it improves him very much," said
+Hester to herself.
+
+She couldn't help recalling a boy of her own,
+--the only child she ever had,--who had been
+accidentally drowned when about the age of
+Paul.
+
+"If he had only lived," she thought, "how
+different might have been our lives."
+
+A thought came into her mind, and she
+looked earnestly at Paul.
+
+"I--yes I will speak to Hugh about it," she
+said, speaking aloud, unconsciously.
+
+"Did you speak to me?" asked Paul.
+
+"No,--I was thinking of something."
+
+She observed that Paul was looking rather
+wistfully at a loaf of bread on the table.
+
+"Don't you feel hungry?" she asked, kindly.
+
+"I dare say you have had no breakfast."
+
+"I have eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Bless my soul!  How hungry you must
+be!" said the good woman, as she bustled about
+to get a plate of butter and a knife.
+
+She must have been convinced of it by the
+rapid manner in which the slices of bread and
+butter disappeared.
+
+At one o'clock the sexton came home. 
+Dinner was laid, and Paul partook of it with an
+appetite little affected by his lunch of the
+morning.  As he rose from the table, he took
+his cap, and saying, "Good-by, I thank you
+very much for your kindness!" he was about to
+depart.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked the sexton,
+in surprise.
+
+"I don't know," answered Paul.
+
+"Stop a minute.  Hester, I want to speak to you."
+
+They went into the sitting-room together.
+
+"This boy, Hester," he commenced with
+hesitation.
+
+"Well, Hugh?"
+
+"He has no home."
+
+"It is a hard lot."
+
+"Do you think we should be the worse off
+if we offered to share our home with him?"
+
+"It is like your kind heart, Hugh.  Let us
+go and tell him."
+
+"We have been talking of you, Paul," said
+the sexton.  "We have thought, Hester and
+myself, that as you had no home and we no
+child, we should all be the gainers by your
+staying with us.  Do you consent?"
+
+"Consent!" echoed Paul in joyful surprise.
+"How can I ever repay your kindness?"
+
+"If you are the boy we take you for, we
+shall feel abundantly repaid.  Hester, we can
+give Paul the little bedroom where--where
+John used to sleep."
+
+His voice faltered a little, for John was the
+name of his boy, who had been drowned.
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+YOUNG STUPID.
+
+
+Paul found the sexton's dwelling very
+different from his last home, if the Poorhouse
+under the charge of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge deserved
+such a name.  His present home was an
+humble one, but he was provided with every
+needful comfort, and the atmosphere of kindness
+which surrounded him, gave him a feeling
+of peace and happiness which he had not
+enjoyed for a long time.
+
+Paul supposed that he would be at once set
+to work, and even then would have accounted
+himself fortunate in possessing such a home.
+
+But Mr. Cameron had other views for him.
+
+"Are you fond of studying?" asked the
+sexton, as they were all three gathered in the
+little sitting room, an evening or two after
+Paul first came.
+
+"Very much!" replied our hero.
+
+"And would you like to go to school?"
+
+"What, here in New York?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, very much indeed."
+
+"I am glad to hear you say so, my lad. 
+There is nothing like a good education.  If I
+had a son of my own, I would rather leave him
+that than money, for while the last may be
+lost, the first never can be.  And though you
+are not my son, Paul, Providence has in a
+manner conducted you to me, and I feel
+responsible for your future.  So you shall go to
+school next Monday morning, and I hope you
+will do yourself much credit there."
+
+"Thank you very much," said Paul.  "I
+feel very grateful, but----"
+
+"You surely are not going to object?" said
+the sexton.
+
+"No, but----"
+
+"Well, Paul, go on," seeing that the boy
+hesitated.
+
+"Why," said our hero, with a sense of
+delicacy which did him credit, "If I go to school,
+I shall not be able to earn my board, and shall
+be living at your expense, though I have no
+claim upon you."
+
+"Oh, is that all?" said the sexton
+cheerfully, "I was afraid that it was something
+more serious.  As to that, I am not rich, and
+never expect to be.  But what little expense
+you will be will not ruin me.  Besides, when
+you are grown up and doing well, you can repay
+me, if I ever need it."
+
+"That I will," said Paul.
+
+"Mind, if I ever need it,--not otherwise. 
+There, now, it's a bargain on that condition. 
+You haven't any other objection," seeing that
+Paul still hesitated.
+
+"No, or at least I should like to ask your
+advice," said Paul.  "Just before my father
+died, he told me of a debt of five hundred dollars
+which he had not been able to pay.  I saw
+that it troubled him, and I promised to pay it
+whenever I was able.  I don't know but I
+ought to go to work so as to keep my promise."
+
+"No," said the sexton after a moment's
+reflection, "the best course will be to go to
+school, at present.  Knowledge is power, and
+a good education will help you to make money
+by and by.  I approve your resolution, my lad,
+and if you keep it resolutely in mind I have
+no doubt you will accomplish your object. 
+But the quickest road to success is through the
+schoolroom.  At present you are not able to
+earn much.  Two or three years hence will be
+time enough."
+
+Paul's face brightened as the sexton said
+this.  He instinctively felt that Mr. Cameron
+was right.  He had never forgotten his father's
+dying injunction, and this was one reason that
+impelled him to run away from the Almshouse,
+because he felt that while he remained he
+never would be in a situation to carry out his
+father's wishes.  Now his duty was reconciled
+with his pleasure, and he gratefully accepted
+the sexton's suggestions.
+
+The next Monday morning, in accordance
+with the arrangement which had just been
+agreed upon, Paul repaired to school.  He was
+at once placed in a class, and lessons were
+assigned him.
+
+At first his progress was not rapid.  While
+living in Wrenville he had an opportunity only
+of attending a country school, kept less than
+six months in the year, and then not affording
+advantages to be compared with those of a city
+school.  During his father's sickness, besides,
+he had been kept from school altogether.  Of
+course all this lost time could not be made up
+in a moment.  Therefore it was that Paul
+lagged behind his class.
+
+There are generally some in every school,
+who are disposed to take unfair advantage of
+their schoolmates, or to ridicule those whom
+they consider inferior to themselves.
+
+There was one such in Paul's class.  His
+name was George Dawkins.
+
+He was rather a showy boy, and learned
+easily.  He might have stood a class above where
+he was, if he had not been lazy, and depended
+too much on his natural talent.  As it was, he
+maintained the foremost rank in his class.
+
+"Better be the first man in a village than
+the second man in Rome," he used to say; and
+as his present position not only gave him the
+pre-eminence which he desired, but cost him
+very little exertion to maintain, he was quite
+well satisfied with it.
+
+This boy stood first in his class, while Paul
+entered at the foot.
+
+He laughed unmercifully at the frequent
+mistakes of our hero, and jeeringly dubbed
+him, "Young Stupid."
+
+"Do you know what Dawkins calls you?"
+asked one of the boys.
+
+"No.  What does he call me?" asked Paul,
+seriously.
+
+"He calls you `Young Stupid.'"
+
+Paul's face flushed painfully.  Ridicule was
+as painful to him as it is to most boys, and he
+felt the insult deeply.
+
+"I'd fight him if I were you," was the
+volunteered advice of his informant.
+
+"No," said Paul.  "That wouldn't mend
+the matter.  Besides, I don't know but he has
+some reason for thinking so."
+
+"Don't call yourself stupid, do you?"
+
+"No, but I am not as far advanced as most
+boys of my age.  That isn't my fault, though. 
+I never had a chance to go to school much.  If
+I had been to school all my life, as Dawkins
+has, it would be time to find out whether I am
+stupid or not."
+
+"Then you ain't going to do anything about
+it?"
+
+"Yes, I am."
+
+"You said you wasn't going to fight him."
+
+"That wouldn't do any good.  But I'm
+going to study up and see if I can't get ahead of
+him.  Don't you think that will be the best
+way of showing him that he is mistaken?"
+
+"Yes, capital, but----"
+
+"But you think I can't do it, I suppose,"
+said Paul.
+
+"You know he is at the head of the class,
+and you are at the foot."
+
+"I know that," said Paul, resolutely.  "But
+wait awhile and see."
+
+In some way George Dawkins learned that
+Paul had expressed the determination to dispute
+his place.  It occasioned him considerable amusement.
+
+"Halloa, Young Stupid," he called out, at recess.
+
+Paul did not answer.
+
+"Why don't you answer when you are
+spoken to?" he asked angrily.
+
+"When you call me by my right name," said
+Paul, quietly, "I will answer, and not before."
+
+"You're mighty independent," sneered
+Dawkins.  "I don't know but I may have to
+teach you manners."
+
+"You had better wait till you are qualified,"
+said Paul, coolly.
+
+Dawkins approached our hero menacingly,
+but Paul did not look in the least alarmed, and
+he concluded to attack him with words only.
+
+"I understand you have set yourself up as
+my rival!" he said, mockingly.
+
+"Not just yet," said Paul, "but in time I
+expect to be."
+
+"So you expect my place," said Dawkins,
+glancing about him.
+
+"We'll talk about that three months hence,"
+said Paul.
+
+"Don't hurt yourself studying," sneered
+Dawkins, scornfully.
+
+To this Paul did not deign a reply, but the
+same day he rose one in his class.
+
+Our hero had a large stock of energy and
+determination.  When he had once set his
+mind upon a thing, he kept steadily at work
+till he accomplished it.  This is the great
+secret of success.  It sometimes happens that
+a man who has done nothing will at once
+accomplish a brilliant success by one spasmodic
+effort, but such cases are extremely rare.
+
+"Slow and sure wins the race," is an old
+proverb that has a great deal of truth in it.
+
+Paul worked industriously.
+
+The kind sexton and his wife, who noticed
+his assiduity, strove to dissuade him from
+working so steadily.
+
+"You are working too hard, Paul," they said.
+
+"Do I look pale?" asked Paul, pointing
+with a smile to his red cheeks.
+
+"No, but you will before long."
+
+"When I am, I will study less.  But you
+know, Uncle Hugh," so the sexton instructed
+him to call him, "I want to make the most
+of my present advantages.  Besides, there's a
+particular boy who thinks I am stupid.  I
+want to convince him that he is mistaken."
+
+"You are a little ambitious, then, Paul?"
+
+"Yes, but it isn't that alone.  I know the
+value of knowledge, and I want to secure as
+much as I can."
+
+"That is an excellent motive, Paul."
+
+"Then you won't make me study less?"
+
+"Not unless I see you are getting sick."
+
+Paul took good care of this.  He knew how
+to play as well as to study, and his laugh on
+the playground was as merry as any.  His
+cheerful, obliging disposition made him a
+favorite with his companions.  Only George
+Dawkins held out; he had, for some reason,
+inbibed a dislike for Paul.
+
+Paul's industry was not without effect.  He
+gradually gained position in his class.
+
+"Take care, Dawkins," said one of his
+companions--the same one who had before spoken
+to Paul--"Paul Prescott will be disputing
+your place with you.  He has come up seventeen
+places in a month."
+
+"Much good it'll do him," said Dawkins,
+contemptuously.
+
+"For all that, you will have to be careful;
+I can tell you that."
+
+"I'm not in the least afraid.  I'm a little
+too firm in my position to be ousted by Young
+Stupid."
+
+"Just wait and see."
+
+Dawkins really entertained no apprehension. 
+He had unbounded confidence in himself,
+and felt a sense of power in the rapidity
+with which he could master a lesson.  He
+therefore did not study much, and though he
+could not but see that Paul was rapidly
+advancing, he rejected with scorn the idea that
+Young Stupid could displace him.
+
+This, however, was the object at which Paul
+was aiming.  He had not forgotten the nickname
+which Dawkins had given him, and this
+was the revenge which he sought,--a strictly
+honorable one.
+
+At length the day of his triumph came.  At
+the end of the month the master read off the
+class-list, and, much to his disgust, George
+Dawkins found himself playing second fiddle
+to Young Stupid.
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+BEN'S PRACTICAL JOKE.
+
+
+Mrs. Mudge was in the back room, bending
+over a tub.  It was washing-day, and she was
+particularly busy.  She was a driving, bustling
+woman, and, whatever might be her faults of
+temper, she was at least industrious and
+energetic.  Had Mr. Mudge been equally so,
+they would have been better off in a worldly
+point of view.  But her husband was
+constitutionally lazy, and was never disposed to
+do more than was needful.
+
+Mrs. Mudge was in a bad humor that morning. 
+One of the cows had got into the garden
+through a gap in the fence, and made sad
+havoc among the cabbages.  Now if Mrs.
+Mudge had a weakness, it was for cabbages. 
+She was excessively fond of them, and had
+persuaded her husband to set out a large
+number of plants from which she expected
+a large crop.  They were planted in one
+corner of the garden, adjoining a piece of
+land, which, since mowing, had been used for
+pasturing the cows.  There was a weak place
+in the fence separating the two inclosures, and
+this Mrs. Mudge had requested her husband to
+attend to.  He readily promised this, and Mrs.
+Mudge supposed it done, until that same morning,
+her sharp eyes had detected old Brindle
+munching the treasured cabbages with a provoking
+air of enjoyment.  The angry lady
+seized a broom, and repaired quickly to the
+scene of devastation.  Brindle scented the
+danger from afar, and beat a disorderly retreat,
+trampling down the cabbages which she
+had hitherto spared.  Leaping over the broken
+fence, she had just cleared the gap as the
+broom-handle, missing her, came forcibly
+down upon the rail, and was snapped in sunder
+by the blow.
+
+Here was a new vexation.  Brindle had not
+only escaped scot-free, but the broom, a new
+one, bought only the week before, was broken.
+
+"It's a plaguy shame," said Mrs. Mudge,
+angrily.  "There's my best broom broken; cost
+forty-two cents only last week."
+
+She turned and contemplated the scene of
+devastation.  This yielded her little consolation.
+
+"At least thirty cabbages destroyed by that
+scamp of a cow," she exclaimed in a tone
+bordering on despair.  "I wish I'd a hit her.  If
+I'd broken my broom over her back I wouldn't
+a cared so much.  And it's all Mudge's fault.
+He's the most shiftless man I ever see.  I'll
+give him a dressing down, see if I don't."
+
+Mrs. Mudge's eyes snapped viciously, and
+she clutched the relics of the broom with a degree
+of energy which rendered it uncertain
+what sort of a dressing down she intended for
+her husband.
+
+Ten minutes after she had re-entered the
+kitchen, the luckless man made his appearance. 
+He wore his usual look, little dreaming
+of the storm that awaited him.
+
+"I'm glad you've come," said Mrs. Mudge,
+grimly.
+
+"What's amiss, now?" inquired Mudge, for
+he understood her look.
+
+"What's amiss?" blazed Mrs. Mudge.  "I'll
+let you know.  Do you see this?"
+
+She seized the broken broom and flourished
+it in his face.
+
+"Broken your broom, have you?  You must
+have been careless."
+
+"Careless, was I?" demanded Mrs. Mudge,
+sarcastically.  "Yes, of course, it's always I
+that am in fault."
+
+"You haven't broken it over the back of any
+of the paupers, have you?" asked her husband,
+who, knowing his helpmeet's infirmity of
+temper, thought it possible she might have
+indulged in such an amusement.
+
+"If I had broken it over anybody's back it
+would have been yours," said the lady.
+
+"Mine! what have I been doing?"
+
+"It's what you haven't done," said Mrs.
+Mudge.  "You're about the laziest and most
+shiftless man I ever came across."
+
+"Come, what does all this mean?"
+demanded Mr. Mudge, who was getting a little
+angry in his turn.
+
+"I'll let you know.  Just look out of that
+window, will you?"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Mudge, innocently, "I
+don't see anything in particular."
+
+"You don't!" said Mrs. Mudge with withering
+sarcasm.  "Then you'd better put on your
+glasses.  If you'd been here quarter of an hour
+ago, you'd have seen Brindle among the cabbages."
+
+"Did she do any harm?" asked Mr. Mudge, hastily.
+
+"There's scarcely a cabbage left," returned
+Mrs. Mudge, purposely exaggerating the mischief done.
+
+"If you had mended that fence, as I told
+you to do, time and again, it wouldn't have
+happened."
+
+"You didn't tell me but once," said Mr.
+Mudge, trying to get up a feeble defence.
+
+"Once should have been enough, and more
+than enough.  You expect me to slave myself
+to death in the house, and see to all your work
+besides.  If I'd known what a lazy, shiftless
+man you were, at the time I married you, I'd
+have cut off my right hand first."
+
+By this time Mr. Mudge had become angry.
+
+"If you hadn't married me, you'd a died an
+old maid," he retorted.
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Mudge to bear. 
+She snatched the larger half of the broom, and
+fetched it down with considerable emphasis
+upon the back of her liege lord, who, perceiving
+that her temper was up, retreated hastily
+from the kitchen; as he got into the yard he
+descried Brindle, whose appetite had been
+whetted by her previous raid, re-entering the
+garden through the gap.  
+
+It was an unfortunate attempt on the part
+of Brindle.  Mr. Mudge, angry with his wife,
+and smarting with the blow from the broomstick,
+determined to avenge himself upon the
+original cause of all the trouble.  Revenge
+suggested craft.  He seized a hoe, and crept
+stealthily to the cabbage-plot.  Brindle, whose
+back was turned, did not perceive his
+approach, until she felt a shower of blows upon
+her back.  Confused at the unexpected attack
+she darted wildly away, forgetting the gap in
+the fence, and raced at random over beds of
+vegetables, uprooting beets, parsnips, and
+turnips, while Mr. Mudge, mad with rage,
+followed close in her tracks, hitting her with the
+hoe whenever he got a chance.
+
+Brindle galloped through the yard, and out
+at the open gate.  Thence she ran up the road
+at the top of her speed, with Mr. Mudge still
+pursuing her.
+
+It may be mentioned here that Mr. Mudge
+was compelled to chase the terrified cow over
+two miles before he succeeded with the help of
+a neighbor in capturing her.  All this took
+time.  Meanwhile Mrs. Mudge at home was
+subjected to yet another trial of her temper.
+
+It has already been mentioned that Squire
+Newcome was Chairman of the Overseers of
+the Poor.  In virtue of his office, he was
+expected to exercise a general supervision over
+the Almshouse and its management.  It was
+his custom to call about once a month to look
+after matters, and ascertain whether any
+official action or interference was needed.
+
+Ben saw his father take his gold-headed
+cane from behind the door, and start down the
+road.  He understood his destination, and
+instantly the plan of a stupendous practical
+joke dawned upon him.
+
+"It'll be jolly fun," he said to himself, his
+eyes dancing with fun.  "I'll try it, anyway."
+
+He took his way across the fields, so as to
+reach the Almshouse before his father.  He
+then commenced his plan of operations.
+
+Mrs. Mudge had returned to her tub, and
+was washing away with bitter energy, thinking
+over her grievances in the matter of Mr.
+Mudge, when a knock was heard at the front
+door.
+
+Taking her hands from the tub, she wiped
+them on her apron.
+
+"I wish folks wouldn't come on washing
+day!" she said in a tone of vexation.
+
+She went to the door and opened it.
+
+There was nobody there.
+
+"I thought somebody knocked," thought
+she, a little mystified.  "Perhaps I was mistaken."
+
+She went back to her tub, and had no sooner
+got her hands in the suds than another knock
+was heard, this time on the back door.
+
+"I declare!" said she, in increased vexation,
+"There's another knock.  I shan't get through
+my washing to-day."
+
+Again Mrs. Mudge wiped her hands on her
+apron, and went to the door.
+
+There was nobody there.
+
+I need hardly say that it was Ben, who had
+knocked both times, and instantly dodged
+round the corner of the house.
+
+"It's some plaguy boy," said Mrs. Mudge,
+her eyes blazing with anger.  "Oh, if I could
+only get hold of him!"
+
+"Don't you wish you could?" chuckled Ben
+to himself, as he caught a sly glimpse of the
+indignant woman.
+
+Meanwhile, Squire Newcome had walked
+along in his usual slow and dignified manner,
+until he had reached the front door of the
+Poorhouse, and knocked.
+
+"It's that plaguy boy again," said Mrs.
+Mudge, furiously.  "I won't go this time, but
+if he knocks again, I'll fix him."
+
+She took a dipper of hot suds from the tub
+in which she had been washing, and crept
+carefully into the entry, taking up a station close
+to the front door.
+
+"I wonder if Mrs. Mudge heard me knock,"
+thought Squire Newcome.  "I should think
+she might.  I believe I will knock again."
+
+This time he knocked with his cane.
+
+Rat-tat-tat sounded on the door.
+
+The echo had not died away, when the door
+was pulled suddenly open, and a dipper full
+of hot suds was dashed into the face of the
+astonished Squire, accompanied with, "Take
+that, you young scamp!"
+
+"Wh--what does all this mean?" gasped
+Squire Newcome, nearly strangled with the
+suds, a part of which had found its way into
+his mouth.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Squire Newcome," said
+the horrified Mrs. Mudge.  "I didn't mean it."
+
+"What did you mean, then?" demanded
+Squire Newcome, sternly.  "I think you
+addressed me,--ahem!--as a scamp."
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean you," said Mrs. Mudge,
+almost out of her wits with perplexity.
+
+"Come in, sir, and let me give you a towel. 
+You've no idea how I've been tried this morning."
+
+"I trust," said the Squire, in his stateliest
+tone, "you will be able to give a satisfactory
+explanation of this, ahem--extraordinary proceeding."
+
+While Mrs. Mudge was endeavoring to sooth
+the ruffled dignity of the aggrieved Squire,
+the "young scamp," who had caused all the mischief,
+made his escape through the fields.
+
+"Oh, wasn't it bully!" he exclaimed.  "I
+believe I shall die of laughing.  I wish Paul
+had been here to see it.  Mrs. Mudge has got
+herself into a scrape, now, I'm thinking."
+
+Having attained a safe distance from the Poorhouse,
+Ben doubled himself up and rolled over and over
+upon the grass, convulsed with laughter.
+
+"I'd give five dollars to see it all over again,"
+he said to himself.  "I never had such splendid
+fun in my life."
+
+Presently the Squire emerged, his tall dicky
+looking decidedly limp and drooping, his face
+expressing annoyance and outraged dignity. 
+Mrs. Mudge attended him to the door with an
+expression of anxious concern.
+
+"I guess I'd better make tracks," said Ben
+to himself, "it won't do for the old gentleman
+to see me here, or he may smell a rat."
+
+He accordingly scrambled over a stone wall
+and lay quietly hidden behind it till he judged
+it would be safe to make his appearance.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+MORE ABOUT BEN.
+
+
+"Benjamin," said Squire Newcome, two
+days after the occurrence mentioned in the
+last chapter, "what made the dog howl so this
+morning?  Was you a doing anything to him?"
+
+"I gave him his breakfast," said Ben,
+innocently.  "Perhaps he was hungry, and howling
+for that."
+
+"I do not refer to that," said the Squire. 
+"He howled as if in pain or terror.  I repeat;
+was you a doing anything to him?"
+
+Ben shifted from one foot to the other, and
+looked out of the window.
+
+"I desire a categorical answer," said Squire Newcome.
+
+"Don't know what categorical means," said
+Ben, assuming a perplexed look.
+
+"I desire you to answer me IMMEGIATELY,"
+explained the Squire.  "What was you a doing
+to Watch?"
+
+"I was tying a tin-kettle to his tail," said
+Ben, a little reluctantly.
+
+"And what was you a doing that for?"
+pursued the Squire.
+
+"I wanted to see how he would look," said
+Ben, glancing demurely at his father, out of
+the corner of his eye.
+
+"Did it ever occur to you that it must be
+disagreeable to Watch to have such an appendage
+to his tail?" queried the Squire.
+
+"I don't know," said Ben.
+
+"How should you like to have a tin pail
+suspended to your--ahem! your coat tail?"
+
+"I haven't got any coat tail," said Ben, "I
+wear jackets.  But I think I am old enough to
+wear coats.  Can't I have one made, father?"
+
+"Ahem!" said the Squire, blowing his nose,
+"we will speak of that at some future period."
+
+"Fred Newell wears a coat, and he isn't any
+older than I am," persisted Ben, who was
+desirous of interrupting his father's inquiries.
+
+"I apprehend that we are wandering from
+the question," said the Squire.  "Would you
+like to be treated as you treated Watch?"
+
+"No," said Ben, slowly, "I don't know as I
+should."
+
+"Then take care not to repeat your conduct
+of this morning," said his father.  "Stay a
+moment," as Ben was about to leave the room
+hastily.  "I desire that you should go to the
+post-office and inquire for letters."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Ben left the room and sauntered out in the
+direction of the post-office.
+
+A chaise, driven by a stranger, stopped as it
+came up with him.
+
+The driver looked towards Ben, and inquired,
+"Boy, is this the way to Sparta?"
+
+Ben, who was walking leisurely along the path,
+whistling as he went, never turned his head.
+
+"Are you deaf, boy?" said the driver, impatiently.
+"I want to know if this is the road to Sparta?"
+
+Ben turned round.
+
+"Fine morning, sir," he said politely.
+
+"I know that well enough without your telling me.
+Will you tell me whether this is the road to Sparta?"
+
+Ben put his hand to his ear, and seemed to
+listen attentively.  Then he slowly shook his
+head, and said, "Would you be kind enough
+to speak a little louder, sir?"
+
+"The boy is deaf, after all," said the driver
+to himself.  "IS THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?"
+
+"Yes, sir, this is Wrenville," said Ben, politely.
+
+"Plague take it! he don't hear me yet.  IS
+THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?"
+
+"Just a little louder, if you please," said
+Ben, keeping his hand to his ear, and appearing
+anxious to hear.
+
+"Deaf as a post!" muttered the driver.  "I
+couldn't scream any louder, if I should try. 
+Go along."
+
+"Poor man! I hope he hasn't injured his voice,"
+thought Ben, his eyes dancing with fun.
+"By gracious!" he continued a moment later,
+bursting into a laugh, "if he isn't going to ask
+the way of old Tom Haven.  He's as deaf
+as I pretended to be."
+
+The driver had reined up again, and inquired
+the way to Sparta.
+
+"What did you say?" said the old man,
+putting his hand to his ear.  "I'm rather hard
+of hearing."
+
+The traveller repeated his question in a
+louder voice.
+
+The old man shook his head.
+
+"I guess you'd better ask that boy," he said,
+pointing to Ben, who by this time had nearly
+come up with the chaise.
+
+"I have had enough of him," said the traveller,
+disgusted.  "I believe you're all deaf in this town.
+I'll get out of it as soon as possible."
+
+He whipped up his horse, somewhat to the
+old man's surprise, and drove rapidly away.
+
+I desire my young readers to understand
+that I am describing Ben as he was, and not as
+he ought to be.  There is no doubt that he
+carried his love of fun too far.  We will hope
+that as he grows older, he will grow wiser.
+
+Ben pursued the remainder of his way to
+the Post-office without any further adventure.
+
+Entering a small building appropriated to
+this purpose, he inquired for letters.
+
+"There's nothing for your father to-day,"
+said the post-master.
+
+"Perhaps there's something for me,--
+Benjamin Newcome, Esq.," said Ben.
+
+"Let me see," said the post-master, putting
+on his spectacles; "yes, I believe there is. 
+Post-marked at New York, too.  I didn't know
+you had any correspondents there."
+
+"It's probably from the Mayor of New
+York," said Ben, in a tone of comical
+importance, "asking my advice about laying out
+Central Park."
+
+"Probably it is," said the postmaster.  "It's
+a pretty thick letter,--looks like an official
+document."
+
+By this time, Ben, who was really surprised
+by the reception of the letter, had opened it. 
+It proved to be from our hero, Paul Prescott,
+and inclosed one for Aunt Lucy.
+
+"Mr. Crosby," said Ben, suddenly, addressing
+the postmaster, "you remember about
+Paul Prescott's running away from the Poorhouse?"
+
+"Yes, I didn't blame the poor boy a bit.  I
+never liked Mudge, and they say his wife is
+worse than he."
+
+"Well, suppose the town should find out
+where he is, could they get him back again?"
+
+"Bless you! no.  They ain't so fond of
+supporting paupers.  If he's able to earn his own
+living, they won't want to interfere with him."
+
+"Well, this letter is from him," said Ben.
+"He's found a pleasant family in New York,
+who have adopted him."
+
+"I'm glad of it," said Mr. Crosby, heartily.
+"I always liked him.  He was a fine fellow."
+
+"That's just what I think.  I'll read his
+letter to you, if you would like to hear it."
+
+"I should, very much.  Come in behind here,
+and sit down."
+
+Ben went inside the office, and sitting down
+on a stool, read Paul's letter.  As our reader
+may be interested in the contents, we will take
+the liberty of looking over Ben's shoulder while
+he reads.
+
+                         New York, Oct. 10, 18--.
+DEAR BEN:--
+
+I have been intending to write to you before, knowing
+the kind interest which you take in me.  I got safely to New
+York a few days after I left Wrenville.  I didn't have so hard
+a time as I expected, having fallen in with a pedler, who was
+very kind to me, with whom I rode thirty or forty miles.  I
+wish I had time to tell all the adventures I met with on the
+way, but I must wait till I see you.
+
+When I got to the city, I was astonished to find how large
+it was.  The first day I got pretty tired wandering about,
+and strayed into a church in the evening, not knowing where
+else to go.  I was so tired I fell asleep there, and didn't wake
+up till morning.  When I found myself locked up in a great
+church, I was frightened, I can tell you.  It was only Thursday
+morning, and I was afraid I should have to stay there till
+Sunday.  If I had, I am afraid I should have starved to
+death.  But, fortunately for me, the sexton came in the morning,
+and let me out.  That wasn't all.  He very kindly took
+me home with him, and then told me I might live with him
+and go to school.  I like him very much, and his wife too.  I
+call them Uncle Hugh and Aunt Hester.  When you write to
+me, you must direct to the care of Mr. Hugh Cameron, 10
+R---- Street.  Then it will be sure to reach me.
+
+I am going to one of the city schools.  At first, I was a
+good deal troubled because I was so far behind boys of my
+age.  You know I hadn't been to school for a long time before
+I left Wrenville, on account of father's sickness.  But I
+studied pretty hard, and now I stand very well.  I sometimes
+think, Ben, that you don't care quite so much about study as
+you ought to.  I wish you would come to feel the importance
+of it.  You must excuse me saying this, as we have always
+been such good friends.
+
+I sometimes think of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, and wonder
+whether they miss me much.  I am sure Mr. Mudge misses
+me, for now he is obliged to get up early and milk, unless he
+has found another boy to do it.  If he has, I pity the boy. 
+Write me what they said about my going away.
+
+I inclose a letter for Aunt Lucy Lee, which I should like to
+have you give her with your own hands.  Don't trust it to
+Mrs. Mudge, for she doesn't like Aunt Lucy, and I don't think
+she would give it to her.
+
+Write soon, Ben, and I will answer without delay,
+               Your affectionate friend,
+                              PAUL PRESCOTT.
+
+
+"That's a very good letter," said Mr.
+Crosby; "I am glad Paul is doing so well.  I
+should like to see him."
+
+"So should I," said Ben; "he was a prime
+fellow,--twice as good as I am.  That's true,
+what he said about my not liking study.  I
+guess I'll try to do better."
+
+"You'll make a smart boy if you only try,"
+said the postmaster, with whom Ben was
+rather a favorite, in spite of his mischievous
+propensities.
+
+"Thank you," said Ben, laughing, "that's
+what my friend, the mayor of New York, often
+writes me.  But honestly, I know I can do a
+good deal better than I am doing now.  I don't
+know but I shall turn over a new leaf.  I suppose
+I like fun a little too well.  Such jolly
+sport as I had coming to the office this morning."
+
+Ben related the story of the traveller who
+inquired the way to Sparta, much to the amusement
+of the postmaster, who, in his enjoyment
+of the joke, forgot to tell Ben that his conduct
+was hardly justifiable.
+
+"Now," said Ben, "as soon as I have been
+home, I must go and see my particular friend,
+Mrs. Mudge.  I'm a great favorite of hers,"
+he added, with a sly wink.
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+MRS. MUDGE'S DISCOMFITURE.
+
+
+Ben knocked at the door of the Poorhouse. 
+In due time Mrs. Mudge appeared.  She was
+a little alarmed on seeing Ben, not knowing
+how Squire Newcome might be affected by the
+reception she had given him on his last visit. 
+Accordingly she received him with unusual
+politeness.
+
+"How do you do, Master Newcome?" she inquired.
+
+"As well as could be expected," said Ben,
+hesitatingly.
+
+"Why, is there anything the matter with
+you?" inquired Mrs. Mudge, her curiosity excited
+by his manner of speaking.
+
+"No one can tell what I suffer from rheumatism,"
+said Ben, sadly.
+
+This was very true, since not even Ben
+himself could have told.
+
+"You are very young to be troubled in that
+way," said Mrs. Mudge, "and how is your
+respected father, to-day?" she inquired, with
+some anxiety.
+
+"I was just going to ask you, Mrs. Mudge,"
+said Ben, "whether anything happened to disturb
+him when he called here day before yesterday?"
+
+"Why," said Mrs. Mudge, turning a little
+pale, "Nothing of any consequence,--that is,
+not much.  What makes you ask?"
+
+"I thought it might be so from his manner,"
+said Ben, enjoying Mrs. Mudge's evident alarm.
+
+"There was a little accident," said Mrs.
+Mudge, reluctantly.  "Some mischievous boy
+had been knocking and running away; so, when
+your father knocked, I thought it might be he,
+and--and I believe I threw some water on
+him.  But I hope he has forgiven it, as it
+wasn't intentional.  I should like to get hold
+of that boy," said Mrs. Mudge, wrathfully, "I
+should like to shake him up."
+
+"Have you any idea who it was?" asked
+Ben, gravely.
+
+"No," said Mrs. Mudge, "I haven't, but I shall
+try to find out.  Whoever it is, he's a scamp."
+
+"Very complimentary old lady," thought
+Ben.  He said in a sober tone, which would
+have imposed upon any one, "There are a good
+many mischievous boys around here."
+
+Mrs. Mudge grimly assented.
+
+"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Mudge," asked Ben,
+suddenly, "have you ever heard anything of
+Paul Prescott since he left you?"
+
+"No," snapped Mrs. Mudge, her countenance
+growing dark, "I haven't.  But I can tell
+pretty well where he is."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In the penitentiary.  At any rate, if he
+isn't, he ought to be.  But what was you wanting?"
+
+"I want to see Mrs. Lee."
+
+"Aunt Lucy Lee?"
+
+"Yes.  I've got a letter for her."
+
+"If you'll give me the letter I'll carry it to her."
+
+"Thank you," said Ben, "but I would like to see her."
+
+"Never mind," thought Mrs. Mudge, "I'll
+get hold of it yet.  I shouldn't wonder at all if
+it was from that rascal, Paul."
+
+Poor Paul!  It was fortunate that he had
+some better friends than Mr. and Mrs. Mudge,
+otherwise he would have been pretty poorly off.
+
+Aunt Lucy came to the door.  Ben placed
+the letter in her hands.
+
+"Is it from Paul?" she asked, hopefully.
+
+"Yes," said Ben.
+
+She opened it eagerly.  "Is he well?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, well and happy," said Ben, who
+treated the old lady, for whom he had much
+respect, very differently from Mrs. Mudge.
+
+"I'm truly thankful for that," said Aunt
+Lucy; "I've laid awake more than one night
+thinking of him."
+
+"So has Mrs. Mudge, I'm thinking," said Ben, slyly.
+
+Aunt Lucy laughed.
+
+"There isn't much love lost between them,"
+said Aunt Lucy, smiling.  "He was very badly
+treated here, poor boy."
+
+"Was he, though?" repeated Mrs. Mudge?
+who had been listening at the keyhole, but not
+in an audible voice.  "Perhaps he will be
+again, if I get him back.  I thought that letter
+was from Paul.  I must get hold of it some
+time to-day."
+
+"I believe I must go," said Ben.  "If you
+answer the letter, I will put it into the office
+for you.  I shall be passing here to-morrow."
+
+"You are very kind," said Aunt Lucy.  "I
+am very much obliged to you for bringing me
+this letter to-day.  You can't tell how happy
+it makes me.  I have been so afraid the dear
+boy might be suffering."
+
+"It's no trouble at all," said Ben.
+
+"She's a pretty good woman," thought he,
+as he left the house.  "I wouldn't play a trick
+on her for a good deal.  But that Mrs. Mudge
+is a hard case.  I wonder what she would have
+said if she had known that I was the "scamp"
+that troubled her so much Monday.  If I had such
+a mother as that, by jingo, I'd run away to sea."
+
+Mrs. Mudge was bent upon reading Aunt
+Lucy's letter.  Knowing it to be from Paul,
+she had a strong curiosity to know what had
+become of him.  If she could only get him
+back!  Her heart bounded with delight as she
+thought of the annoyances to which, in that
+case, she could subject him.  It would be a
+double triumph over him and Aunt Lucy,
+against whom she felt that mean spite with
+which a superior nature is often regarded by
+one of a lower order.
+
+After some reflection, Mrs. Mudge concluded
+that Aunt Lucy would probably leave the letter
+in the little chest which was appropriated
+to her use, and which was kept in the room
+where she slept.  The key of this chest had
+been lost, and although Aunt Lucy had
+repeatedly requested that a new one should be
+obtained, Mrs. Mudge had seen fit to pay no
+attention to her request, as it would interfere
+with purposes of her own, the character of
+which may easily be guessed.
+
+As she suspected, Paul's letter had been
+deposited in this chest.
+
+Accordingly, the same afternoon, she left
+her work in the kitchen in order to institute
+a search for it.  As a prudent precaution,
+however, she just opened the door of the common
+room, to make sure that Aunt Lucy was at
+work therein.
+
+She made her way upstairs, and entering
+the room in which the old lady lodged, together
+with two others, she at once went to
+the chest and opened it.
+
+She began to rummage round among the old
+lady's scanty treasures, and at length, much
+to her joy, happened upon the letter, laid
+carefully away in one corner of the chest.  She
+knew it was the one she sought, from the recent
+postmark, and the address, which was in
+the unformed handwriting of a boy.  To make
+absolutely certain, she drew the letter from
+the envelope and looked at the signature.
+
+She was right, as she saw at a glance.  It
+was from Paul.
+
+"Now I'll see what the little rascal has to
+say for himself," she muttered, "I hope he's
+in distress; oh, how I'd like to get hold of
+him."
+
+Mrs. Mudge began eagerly to read the letter,
+not dreaming of interruption.  But she was
+destined to be disappointed.  To account for
+this we must explain that, shortly after Mrs.
+Mudge looked into the common room, Aunt
+Lucy was reminded of something essential,
+which she had left upstairs.  She accordingly
+laid down her work upon the chair in which
+she had been sitting, and went up to her chamber.
+
+Mrs. Mudge was too much preoccupied to
+hear the advancing steps.
+
+As the old lady entered the chamber, what
+was her mingled indignation and dismay at
+seeing Mrs. Mudge on her knees before _*her_
+chest, with the precious letter, whose arrival
+had gladdened her so much, in her hands.
+
+"What are you doing there, Mrs. Mudge?"
+she said, sternly.
+
+Mrs. Mudge rose from her knees in confusion. 
+Even she had the grace to be ashamed
+of her conduct.
+
+"Put down that letter," said the old lady
+in an authoritative voice quite new to her.
+
+Mrs. Mudge, who had not yet collected her
+scattered senses, did as she was requested.
+
+Aunt Lucy walked hastily to the chest, and
+closed it, first securing the letter, which she
+put in her pocket.
+
+"I hope it will be safe, now," she said, rather
+contemptuously.  "Ain't you ashamed of yourself,
+Mrs. Mudge?"
+
+"Ashamed of myself!" shrieked that amiable
+lady, indignant with herself for having
+quailed for a moment before the old lady.
+
+"What do you mean--you--you pauper?"
+
+"I may be a pauper," said Aunt Lucy,
+calmly, "But I am thankful to say that I mind
+my own business, and don't meddle with other
+people's chests."
+
+A red spot glowed on either cheek of Mrs.
+Mudge.  She was trying hard to find some vantage-
+ground over the old lady.
+
+"Do you mean to say that I don't mind my business?"
+she blustered, folding her arms defiantly.
+
+"What were you at my trunk for?" said
+the old lady, significantly.
+
+"Because it was my duty," was the brazen reply.
+
+Mrs. Mudge had rapidly determined upon
+her line of defense, and thought it best to
+carry the war into the enemy's country.
+
+"Yes, I felt sure that your letter was from
+Paul Prescott, and as he ran away from my
+husband and me, who were his lawful guardians,
+it was my duty to take that means of
+finding out where he is.  I knew that you
+were in league with him, and would do all
+you could to screen him.  This is why I went
+to your chest, and I would do it again, if necessary."
+
+"Perhaps you have been before," said Aunt
+Lucy, scornfully.  "I think I understand, now,
+why you were unwilling to give me another
+key.  Fortunately there has been nothing there
+until now to reward your search."
+
+"You impudent trollop!" shrieked Mrs. Mudge, furiously.
+
+Her anger was the greater, because Aunt
+Lucy was entirely correct in her supposition
+that this was not the first visit her landlady
+had made to the little green chest.
+
+"I'll give Paul the worst whipping he ever had,
+when I get him back," said Mrs. Mudge, angrily.
+
+"He is beyond your reach, thank Providence,"
+said Aunt Lucy, whose equanimity was
+not disturbed by this menace, which she knew
+to be an idle one.  "That is enough for you
+to know.  I will take care that you never have
+another chance to see this letter.  And if you
+ever go to my chest again"--
+
+"Well, ma'am, what then?"
+
+"I shall appeal for protection to 'Squire Newcome."
+
+"Hoity, toity," said Mrs. Mudge, but she
+was a little alarmed, nevertheless, as such an
+appeal would probably be prejudicial to her interest.
+
+So from time to time Aunt Lucy received,
+through Ben, letters from Paul, which kept
+her acquainted with his progress at school. 
+These letters were very precious to the old
+lady, and she read them over many times. 
+They formed a bright link of interest which
+bound her to the outside world, and enabled
+her to bear up with greater cheerfulness
+against the tyranny of Mrs. Mudge.
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+PAUL OBTAINS A SITUATION.
+
+
+The month after Paul Prescott succeeded
+in reaching the head of his class, George Dawkins
+exerted himself to rise above him.  He
+studied better than usual, and proved in truth
+a formidable rival.  But Paul's spirit was
+roused.  He resolved to maintain his position
+if possible.  He had now become accustomed
+to study, and it cost him less effort.  When the
+end of the month came, there was considerable
+speculation in the minds of the boys as to the
+result of the rivalry.  The majority had faith
+in Paul, but there were some who, remembering
+how long Dawkins had been at the head of the class,
+thought he would easily regain his lost rank.
+
+The eventful day, the first of the month,
+at length came, and the class-list was read.
+
+Paul Prescott ranked first.
+
+George Dawkins ranked second.
+
+A flush spread over the pale face of Dawkins,
+and he darted a malignant glance at Paul,
+who was naturally pleased at having retained his rank.
+
+Dawkins had his satellites.  One of these
+came to him at recess, and expressed his regret
+that Dawkins had failed of success.
+
+Dawkins repelled the sympathy with cold disdain.
+
+"What do you suppose I care for the head of
+the class?" he demanded, haughtily.
+
+"I thought you had been studying for it."
+
+"Then you thought wrong.  Let the sexton's
+son have it, if he wants it.  It would be of no
+use to me, as I leave this school at the end of
+the week."
+
+"Leave school!"
+
+The boys gathered about Dawkins, curiously.
+
+"Is it really so, Dawkins?" they inquired.
+
+"Yes," said Dawkins, with an air of
+importance; "I shall go to a private school, where
+the advantages are greater than here.  My
+father does not wish me to attend a public
+school any longer.
+
+This statement was made on the spur of the
+moment, to cover the mortification which his
+defeat had occasioned him.  It proved true,
+however.  On his return home, Dawkins succeeded
+in persuading his father to transfer
+him to a private school, and he took away his
+books at the end of the week.  Had he recovered
+his lost rank there is no doubt that he
+would have remained.
+
+Truth to tell, there were few who mourned
+much for the departure of George Dawkins. 
+He had never been a favorite.  His imperious
+temper and arrogance rendered this impossible.
+
+After he left school, Paul saw little of him
+for two or three years.  At their first
+encounter Paul bowed and spoke pleasantly, but
+Dawkins looked superciliously at him without
+appearing to know him.
+
+Paul's face flushed proudly, and afterwards
+he abstained from making advances which
+were likely to be repulsed.  He had too much
+self-respect to submit voluntarily to such slights.
+
+Meanwhile Paul's school life fled rapidly.  It
+was a happy time,--happy in its freedom from
+care, and happy for him, though all school
+boys do not appreciate that consideration, in
+the opportunities for improvement which it
+afforded.  These opportunities, it is only just
+to Paul to say, were fully improved.  He left
+school with an enviable reputation, and with
+the good wishes of his schoolmates and teachers.
+
+Paul was now sixteen years old, a stout,
+handsome boy, with a frank, open countenance,
+and a general air of health which
+formed quite a contrast to the appearance he
+presented when he left the hospitable mansion
+which Mr. Nicholas Mudge kept open at the
+public expense.
+
+Paul was now very desirous of procuring
+a situation.  He felt that it was time he was
+doing something for himself.  He was ambitious
+to relieve the kind sexton and his wife of some portion,
+at least, of the burden of his support.
+
+Besides, there was the legacy of debt which
+his father had bequeathed him.  Never for a
+moment had Paul forgotten it.  Never for a
+moment had he faltered in his determination
+to liquidate it at whatever sacrifice to himself.
+
+"My father's name shall be cleared," he said
+to himself, proudly.  "Neither Squire Conant
+nor any one else shall have it in his power
+to cast reproach upon his memory."
+
+The sexton applauded his purpose.
+
+"You are quite right, Paul," he said.  "But
+you need not feel in haste.  Obtain your education
+first, and the money will come by-and-
+by.  As long as you repay the amount, principal
+and interest, you will have done all that
+you are in honor bound to do.  Squire Conant,
+as I understand from you, is a rich man, so
+that he will experience no hardship in waiting."
+
+Paul was now solicitous about a place.  The
+sexton had little influence, so that he must
+depend mainly upon his own inquiries.
+
+He went into the reading-room of the Astor
+House every day to look over the advertised
+wants in the daily papers.  Every day he noted
+down some addresses, and presented himself
+as an applicant for a position.  Generally,
+however, he found that some one else had been
+before him.
+
+One day his attention was drawn to the
+following advertisement.
+
+
+"WANTED.  A smart, active, wide-awake
+boy, of sixteen or seventeen, in a retail dry-
+goods store.  Apply immediately at--Broadway."
+
+Paul walked up to the address mentioned. 
+Over the door he read, "Smith & Thompson." 
+This, then, was the firm that had advertised.
+
+The store ran back some distance.  There
+appeared to be six or eight clerks in attendance
+upon quite a respectable number of customers.
+
+"Is Mr. Smith in?" inquired Paul, of the
+nearest clerk.
+
+"You'll find him at the lower end of the
+store.  How many yards, ma'am?"
+
+This last was of course addressed to a customer.
+
+Paul made his way, as directed, to the lower
+end of the store.
+
+A short, wiry, nervous man was writing at
+a desk.
+
+"Is Mr. Smith in?" asked Paul.
+
+"My name; what can I do for you?" said
+the short man, crisply.
+
+"I saw an advertisement in the Tribune for a boy."
+
+"And you have applied for the situation?" said Mr. Smith.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How old are you?" with a rapid glance at our hero.
+
+"Sixteen--nearly seventeen."
+
+"I suppose that means that you will be
+seventeen in eleven months and a half."
+
+"No, sir," said Paul, "I shall be seventeen
+in three months."
+
+"All right.  Most boys call themselves a
+year older.  What's your name?"
+
+"Paul Prescott."
+
+"P. P. Any relation to Fanny Fern?"
+
+"No, sir," said Paul, rather astonished.
+
+"Didn't know but you might be.  P. P. and
+F. F.  Where do you live?"
+
+Paul mentioned the street and number.
+
+"That's well, you are near by," said Mr.
+Smith.  "Now, are you afraid of work?"
+
+"No sir," said Paul, smiling, "not much."
+
+"Well, that's important; how much wages
+do you expect?"
+
+"I suppose," said Paul, hesitating, "I
+couldn't expect very much at first."
+
+"Of course not; green, you know.  What
+do you say to a dollar a week?"
+
+"A dollar a week!" exclaimed Paul, in dismay,
+"I hoped to get enough to pay for my
+board."
+
+"Nonsense.  There are plenty of boys glad
+enough to come for a dollar a week.  At first,
+you know.  But I'll stretch a point with you,
+and offer you a dollar and a quarter.  What do
+you say?"
+
+"How soon could I expect to have my wages advanced?"
+inquired our hero, with considerable anxiety.
+
+"Well," said Smith, "at the end of a month or two."
+
+"I'll go home and speak to my uncle about it,"
+said Paul, feeling undecided.
+
+"Can't keep the place open for you.
+Ah, there's another boy at the door."
+
+"I'll accept," said Paul, jumping to a decision.
+He had applied in so many different quarters
+without success, that he could not make up his mind
+to throw away this chance, poor as it seemed.
+
+"When shall I come?"
+
+"Come to-morrow"
+
+"At what time, sir?"
+
+"At seven o'clock."
+
+This seemed rather early.  However, Paul
+was prepared to expect some discomforts, and
+signified that he would come.
+
+As he turned to go away, another boy passed him,
+probably bent on the same errand with himself.
+
+Paul hardly knew whether to feel glad or
+sorry.  He had expected at least three dollars
+a week, and the descent to a dollar and a quarter
+was rather disheartening.  Still, he was
+encouraged by the promise of a rise at the end
+of a month or two,--so on the whole he went
+home cheerful.
+
+"Well, Paul, what luck to-day?" asked Mr.
+Cameron, who had just got home as Paul entered.
+
+"I've got a place, Uncle Hugh."
+
+"You have,--where?"
+
+"With Smith & Thompson, No.--Broadway."
+
+"What sort of a store?  I don't remember the name."
+
+"It is a retail dry-goods store."
+
+"Did you like the looks of your future employer?"
+
+"I don't know," said Paul, hesitating, "He
+looked as if he might be a pretty sharp man in
+business, but I have seen others that I would
+rather work for.  However, beggars mustn't
+be choosers.  But there was one thing I was
+disappointed about."
+
+"What was that, Paul?"
+
+"About the wages."
+
+"How much will they give you?"
+
+"Only a dollar and a quarter a week, at first."
+
+"That is small, to be sure."
+
+"The most I think of, Uncle Hugh, is, that
+I shall still be an expense to you.  I hoped to
+get enough to be able to pay my board from the first."
+
+"My dear boy," said the sexton, kindly,
+"don't trouble yourself on that score.  It costs
+little more for three than for two, and the
+little I expend on your account is richly made
+up by the satisfaction we feel in your society,
+and your good conduct."
+
+"You say that to encourage me, Uncle Hugh," said Paul.
+"You have done all for me.  I have done nothing for you."
+
+"No, Paul, I spoke the truth.  Hester and I have both
+been happier since you came to us.  We hope you will
+long remain with us.  You are already as dear to us
+as the son that we lost."
+
+"Thank you, Uncle Hugh," said Paul, in a
+voice tremulous with feeling.  "I will do all
+I can to deserve your kindness."
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+SMITH AND THOMPSON'S YOUNG MAN.
+
+
+At seven o'clock the next morning Paul
+stood before Smith & Thompson's store.
+
+As he came up on one side, another boy came
+down on the other, and crossed the street.
+
+"Are you the new boy?" he asked, surveying
+Paul attentively.
+
+"I suppose so," said Paul.  "I've engaged
+to work for Smith & Thompson."
+
+"All right.  I'm glad to see you," said the other.
+
+This looked kind, and Paul thanked him for
+his welcome.
+
+"O." said the other, bursting into a laugh,
+"you needn't trouble yourself about thanking
+me.  I'm glad you've come, because now I
+shan't have to open the store and sweep out. 
+Just lend a hand there; I'll help you about taking
+down the shutters this morning, and to-morrow
+you'll have to get along alone."
+
+The two boys opened the store.
+
+"What's your name?" asked Paul's new acquaintance.
+
+"Paul Prescott.  What is yours?"
+
+"Nicholas Benton.  You may call me MR. Benton."
+
+"Mr. Benton?" repeated Paul in some astonishment.
+
+"Yes; I'm a young man now.  I've been Smith
+& Thompson's boy till now.  Now I'm promoted."
+
+Paul looked at MR. Benton with some amusement. 
+That young man was somewhat shorter
+than himself, and sole proprietor of a stock
+of pale yellow hair which required an abundant
+stock of bear's grease to keep it in order. 
+His face was freckled and expressionless.  His
+eyebrows and eyelashes were of the same faded
+color.  He was dressed, however, with some
+pretensions to smartness.  He wore a blue
+necktie, of large dimensions, fastened by an
+enormous breast-pin, which, in its already
+tarnished splendor, suggested strong doubts as
+to the apparent gold being genuine.
+
+"There's the broom, Paul," said Mr. Benton,
+assuming a graceful position on the counter.
+
+"You'll have to sweep out; only look sharp about
+raising a dust, or Smith'll be into your wool."
+
+"What sort of a man is Mr. Smith?" asked
+Paul, with some curiosity.
+
+"O, he's an out and outer.  Sharp as a steel trap.
+He'll make you toe the mark."
+
+"Do you like him?" asked Paul, not quite
+sure whether he understood his employer's
+character from the description.
+
+"I don't like him well enough to advise any
+of my folks to trade with him," said Mr. Benton.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"He'd cheat 'em out of their eye teeth if
+they happened to have any," said the young
+man coolly, beginning to pick his teeth with a
+knife.
+
+Paul began to doubt whether he should like
+Mr. Smith.
+
+"I say," said Mr. Benton after a pause,
+"have you begun to shave yet?"
+
+Paul looked up to see if his companion were
+in earnest.
+
+"No," said he; "I haven't got along as
+far as that.  Have you?"
+
+"I," repeated the young man, a little
+contemptuously, "of course I have.  I've shaved
+for a year and a half."
+
+"Do you find it hard shaving?" asked Paul,
+a little slyly.
+
+"Well, my beard is rather stiff," said the
+late BOY, with an important air, "but I've got
+used to it."
+
+"Ain't you rather young to shave,
+Nicholas?" asked Paul.
+
+"Mr. Benton, if you please."
+
+"I mean, Mr. Benton."
+
+"Perhaps I was when I begun.  But now I
+am nineteen."
+
+"Nineteen?"
+
+"Yes, that is to say, I'm within a few
+months of being nineteen.  What do you think
+of my moustache?"
+
+"I hadn't noticed it."
+
+"The store's rather dark," muttered Mr.
+Benton, who seemed a little annoyed by this
+answer.  "If you'll come a little nearer you
+can see it."
+
+Drawing near, Paul, after some trouble,
+descried a few scattering hairs.
+
+"Yes," said he, wanting to laugh, "I see it."
+
+"Coming on finely, isn't it?" asked Mr.
+Nicholas Benton, complacently.
+
+"Yes," said Paul, rather doubtfully.
+
+"I don't mind letting you into a secret,"
+said Benton, affably, "if you won't mention
+it.  I've been using some of the six weeks' stuff."
+
+"The what?" asked Paul, opening his eyes.
+
+"Haven't you heard of it?" inquired Benton,
+a little contemptuously.  "Where have
+you been living all your life?  Haven't you
+seen it advertised,--warranted to produce a
+full set of whiskers or moustaches upon the
+smoothest face, etc.  I got some a week ago,
+only a dollar.  Five weeks from now you'll see
+something that'll astonish you."
+
+Paul was not a little amused by his new
+companion, and would have laughed, but that
+he feared to offend him.
+
+"You'd better get some," said Mr. Benton.
+"I'll let you just try mine once, if you want to."
+
+"Thank you," said Paul; "I don't think I
+want to have a moustache just yet."
+
+"Well, perhaps you're right.  Being a boy,
+perhaps it wouldn't be advisable."
+
+"When does Mr. Smith come in?"
+
+"Not till nine."
+
+"And the other clerks?"
+
+"About eight o'clock.  I shan't come till
+eight, to-morrow morning."
+
+"There's one thing I should like to ask
+you," said Paul.  "Of course you won't answer
+unless you like."
+
+"Out with it."
+
+"How much does Mr. Smith pay you?"
+
+"Ahem!" said Benton, "what does he pay you?"
+
+"A dollar and a quarter a week."
+
+"He paid me a dollar and a half to begin with."
+
+"Did he?  He wanted me to come first at
+a dollar."
+
+"Just like him.  Didn't I tell you he was an
+out and outer?  He'll be sure to take you in if
+you will let him."
+
+"But," said Paul, anxiously, "he said he'd
+raise it in a month or two."
+
+"He won't offer to; you'll have to tease
+him.  And then how much'll he raise it?  Not
+more than a quarter.  How much do you think
+I get now?"
+
+"How long have you been here?"
+
+"A year and a half."
+
+"Five dollars a week," guessed Paul.
+
+"Five! he only gives me two and a half. 
+That is, he hasn't been paying me but that. 
+Now, of course, he'll raise, as I've been promoted."
+
+"How much do you expect to get now?"
+
+"Maybe four dollars, and I'm worth ten
+any day.  He's a mean old skinflint, Smith is."
+
+This glimpse at his own prospects did not
+tend to make Paul feel very comfortable.  He
+could not repress a sigh of disappointment
+when he thought of this mortifying termination
+of all his brilliant prospects.  He had
+long nourished the hope of being able to repay
+the good sexton for his outlay in his behalf,
+besides discharging the debt which his father
+had left behind him.  Now there seemed to be
+little prospect of either.  He had half a mind
+to resign his place immediately upon the entrance
+of Mr. Smith, but two considerations
+dissuaded him; one, that the sum which he
+was to receive, though small, would at least
+buy his clothes, and besides, he was not at
+all certain of obtaining another situation.
+
+With a sigh, therefore, he went about his duties.
+
+He had scarcely got the store ready when
+some of the clerks entered, and the business
+of the day commenced.  At nine Mr. Smith appeared.
+
+"So you're here, Peter," remarked he, as
+he caught sight of our hero.
+
+"Paul," corrected the owner of that name.
+
+"Well, well, Peter or Paul, don't make much
+difference.  Both were apostles, if I remember
+right.  All ready for work, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Paul, neither very briskly
+nor cheerfully.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Smith, after a pause, "I
+guess I'll put you into the calico department. 
+Williams, you may take him under your wing. 
+And now Peter,--all the same, Paul,--I've got
+a word or two to say to you, as I always do to
+every boy who comes into my store.  Don't
+forget what you're here for?  It's to sell goods. 
+Take care to sell something to every man,
+woman, and child, that comes in your way. 
+That's the way to do business.  Follow it up,
+and you'll be a rich man some day."
+
+"But suppose they don't want anything?"
+said Paul.
+
+"Make 'em want something," returned
+Smith, "Don't let 'em off without buying. 
+That's my motto.  However, you'll learn."
+
+Smith bustled off, and began in his nervous
+way to exercise a general supervision over all
+that was going on in the store.  He seemed to
+be all eyes.  While apparently entirely occupied
+in waiting upon a customer, he took notice of all
+the customers in the store, and could tell what
+they bought, and how much they paid.
+
+Paul listened attentively to the clerk under
+whom he was placed for instruction.
+
+"What's the price of this calico?" inquired
+a common-looking woman.
+
+"A shilling a yard, ma'am," (this was not
+in war times.)
+
+"It looks rather coarse."
+
+"Coarse, ma'am!  What can you be thinking of?
+It is a superfine piece of goods.  We sell more
+of it than of any other figure.  The mayor's wife
+was in here yesterday, and bought two dress patterns
+off of it."
+
+"Did she?" asked the woman, who appeared
+favorably impressed by this circumstance.
+
+"Yes, and she promised to send her friends
+here after some of it.  You'd better take it
+while you can get it."
+
+"Will it wash?"
+
+"To be sure it will."
+
+"Then I guess you may cut me off ten yards."
+
+This was quickly done, and the woman departed
+with her purchase.
+
+Five minutes later, another woman entered
+with a bundle of the same figured calico.
+
+Seeing her coming, Williams hastily slipped
+the remnant of the piece out of sight.
+
+"I got this calico here," said the newcomer,
+"one day last week.  You warranted it to wash,
+but I find it won't.  Here's a piece I've tried."
+
+She showed a pattern, which had a faded look.
+
+"You've come to the wrong store," said Williams,
+coolly.  "You must have got the calico somewhere else."
+
+"No, I'm sure I got it here.  I remember particularly
+buying it of you."
+
+"You've got a better memory than I have, then.
+We haven't got a piece of calico like that in the store."
+
+Paul listened to this assertion with unutterable surprise.
+
+"I am quite certain I bought it here," said the woman, perplexed.
+
+"Must have been the next store,--Blake & Hastings.
+Better go over there."
+
+The woman went out.
+
+"That's the way to do business," said Williams, winking at Paul.
+
+Paul said nothing, but he felt more than ever
+doubtful about retaining his place.
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+MR. BENTON'S ADVENTURE.
+
+
+One evening, about a fortnight after his
+entrance into Smith & Thompson's employment,
+Paul was putting up the shutters, the business
+of the day being over.  It devolved upon him
+to open and close the store, and usually he was
+the last one to go home.
+
+This evening, however, Mr. Nicholas Benton
+graciously remained behind and assisted Paul
+in closing the store.  This was unusual, and
+surprised Paul a little.  It was soon explained,
+however.
+
+"Good-night, Nicholas,--I mean, Mr. Benton,"
+said Paul.
+
+"Not quite yet.  I want you to walk a little
+way with me this evening."
+
+Paul hesitated.
+
+"Come, no backing out.  I want to confide
+to you a very important secret."
+
+He looked so mysterious that Paul's
+curiosity was aroused, and reflecting that it was
+yet early, he took his companion's proffered
+arm, and sauntered along by his side.
+
+"What's the secret?" he asked at length,
+perceiving that Nicholas was silent.
+
+"Wait till we get to a more retired place."
+
+He turned out of Broadway into a side
+street, where the passers were less numerous.
+
+"I don't think you could guess," said the
+young man, turning towards our hero.
+
+"I don't think I could."
+
+"And yet," continued Benton, meditatively,
+"it is possible that you may have noticed
+something in my appearance just a little unusual,
+within the last week.  Haven't you, now?"
+
+Paul could not say that he had.
+
+Mr. Benton looked a little disappointed.
+
+"Nobody can tell what has been the state
+of my feelings," he resumed after a pause.
+
+"You ain't sick?" questioned Paul, hastily.
+
+"Nothing of the sort, only my appetite has
+been a good deal affected.  I don't think I
+have eaten as much in a week as you would in
+a day," he added, complacently.
+
+"If I felt that way I should think I was
+going to be sick," said Paul.
+
+"I'll let you into the secret," said Mr. Benton,
+lowering his voice, and looking carefully
+about him, to make sure that no one was
+within hearing distance--"I'M IN LOVE."
+
+This seemed so utterly ludicrous to Paul,
+that he came very near losing Mr. Benton's
+friendship forever by bursting into a hearty laugh.
+
+"I didn't think of that," he said.
+
+"It's taken away my appetite, and I haven't
+been able to sleep nights," continued Mr. Benton,
+in a cheerful tone.  "I feel just as Howard
+Courtenay did in the great story that's
+coming out in the Weekly Budget.  You've
+read it, haven't you?"
+
+"I don't think I have," said Paul.
+
+"Then you ought to.  It's tiptop.  It's rather
+curious too that the lady looks just as Miranda
+does, in the same story."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"Wait a minute, and I'll read the description."
+
+Mr. Benton pulled a paper from his pocket,
+--the last copy of the Weekly Budget,--and
+by the light of a street lamp read the following
+extract to his amused auditor.
+
+"Miranda was just eighteen.  Her form was
+queenly and majestic.  Tall and stately, she
+moved among her handmaidens with a dignity
+which revealed her superior rank.  Her eyes
+were dark as night.  Her luxuriant tresses,--
+there, the rest is torn off," said Mr. Benton,
+in a tone of vexation.
+
+"She is tall, then?" said Paul.
+
+"Yes, just like Miranda."
+
+"Then," said our hero, in some hesitation,
+"I should think she would not be very well
+suited to you."
+
+"Why not?" asked Mr. Benton, quickly.
+
+"Because," said Paul, "you're rather short,
+you know."
+
+"I'm about the medium height," said Mr.
+Benton, raising himself upon his toes as he
+spoke.
+
+"Not quite," said Paul, trying not to laugh.
+
+"I'm as tall as Mr. Smith," resumed Mr.
+Benton, in a tone which warned Paul that this
+was a forbidden subject.  "But you don't ask
+me who she is."
+
+"I didn't know as you would be willing to tell."
+
+"I shan't tell any one but you.  It's Miss
+Hawkins,--firm of Hawkins & Brewer.  That
+is, her father belongs to the firm, not she.  And
+Paul," here he clutched our hero's arm convulsively,
+"I've made a declaration of my love, and--and----"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She has answered my letter."
+
+"Has she?" asked Paul with some curiosity,
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She has written me to be under her window
+this evening."
+
+"Why under her window? why didn't she
+write you to call?"
+
+"Probably she will, but it's more romantic
+to say, `be under my window.'"
+
+"Well, perhaps it is; only you know I don't
+know much about such things."
+
+"Of course not, Paul," said Mr. Benton;
+"you're only a boy, you know."
+
+"Are you going to be under her window,
+Nich,--I mean Mr. Benton?"
+
+"Of course.  Do you think I would miss the
+appointment?  No earthly power could prevent
+my doing it."
+
+"Then I had better leave you," said Paul,
+making a movement to go.
+
+"No, I want you to accompany me as far as
+the door.  I feel--a little agitated.  I suppose
+everybody does when they are in love," added
+Mr. Benton, complacently.
+
+"Well," said Paul, "I will see you to the
+door, but I can't stay, for they will wonder at
+home what has become of me."
+
+"All right."
+
+"Are we anywhere near the house?"
+
+"Yes, it's only in the next street," said Mr.
+Benton, "O, Paul, how my heart beats!  You
+can't imagine how I feel!"
+
+Mr. Benton gasped for breath, and looked as
+if he had swallowed a fish bone, which he had
+some difficulty in getting down.
+
+"You'll know how to understand my feelings
+sometime, Paul," said Mr. Benton;
+"when your time comes, I will remember your
+service of to-night, and I will stand by you."
+
+Paul inwardly hoped that he should never
+fall in love, if it was likely to affect him in
+the same way as his companion, but he thought
+it best not to say so.
+
+By this time they had come in sight of a
+three-story brick house, with Benjamin Hawkins
+on the door-plate.
+
+"That's the house," said Mr. Benton, in an
+agitated whisper.
+
+"Is it?"
+
+"Yes, and that window on the left-hand side
+is the window of her chamber."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"She told me in the letter."
+
+"And where are you to stand?"
+
+"Just underneath, as the clock strikes nine. 
+It must be about the time."
+
+At that moment the city clock struck nine.
+
+Mr. Benton left Paul, and crossing the
+street, took up his position beneath the window
+of his charmer, beginning to sing, in a
+thin, piping voice, as preconcerted between them--
+          "Ever of thee,
+            I'm fo-o-ondly dreaming."
+
+
+
+The song was destined never to be finished.
+
+From his post in a doorway opposite, Paul
+saw the window softly open.  He could
+distinguish a tall female figure, doubtless Miss
+Hawkins herself.  She held in her hand a
+pitcher of water, which she emptied with well-
+directed aim full upon the small person of her
+luckless admirer.
+
+The falling column struck upon his beaver,
+thence spreading on all sides.  His carefully
+starched collar became instantly as limp as
+a rag, while his coat suffered severely from
+the shower.
+
+His tuneful accents died away in dismay.
+
+"Ow!" he exclaimed, jumping at least a
+yard, and involuntarily shaking himself like a
+dog, "who did that?"
+
+There was no answer save a low, musical
+laugh from the window above, which was
+involuntarily echoed by Paul.
+
+"What do you mean by laughing at me?"
+demanded Mr. Benton, smarting with mortification,
+as he strode across the street, trying
+to dry his hat with the help of his handkerchief,
+"Is this what you call friendship?"
+
+"Excuse me," gasped Paul, "but I really
+couldn't help it."
+
+"I don't see anything to laugh at,"
+continued Mr. Benton, in a resentful tone;
+"because I have been subjected to unmanly
+persecution, you must laugh at me, instead of
+extending to me the sympathy of a friend."
+
+"I suppose you won't think of her any
+more," said Paul, recovering himself.
+
+"Think of her!" exclaimed Mr. Benton,
+"would you have me tear her from my heart,
+because her mercenary parent chooses to frown
+upon our love, and follow me with base persecution."
+
+"Her parent!"
+
+"Yes, it was he who threw the water upon
+me.  But it shall not avail," the young man
+continued, folding his arms, and speaking in a
+tone of resolution, "bolts and bars shall not
+keep two loving hearts asunder."
+
+"But it wasn't her father," urged Paul,
+perceiving that Mr. Benton was under a mistake.
+
+"Who was it, then?"
+
+"It was the young lady herself."
+
+"Who threw the water upon me?  It is a
+base slander."
+
+"But I saw her."
+
+"Saw who?"
+
+"A tall young lady with black hair."
+
+"And was it she who threw the water?"
+asked Mr. Benton, aghast at this unexpected
+revelation.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then she did it at the command of her
+proud parent."
+
+Paul did not dispute this, since it seemed
+to comfort Mr. Benton.  It is doubtful, however,
+whether the young man believed it himself,
+since he straightway fell into a fit of
+gloomy abstraction, and made no response
+when Paul bade him "good-night."
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+PAUL LOSES HIS SITUATION AND GAINS A FRIEND.
+
+
+Paul had a presentiment that he should not
+long remain in the employ of Smith & Thompson;
+it was not many weeks before this presentiment
+was verified.
+
+After having received such instruction as
+was necessary, the calico department was left
+in Paul's charge.  One day a customer in turning
+over the patterns shown her took up a piece
+which Paul knew from complaints made by
+purchasers would not wash.
+
+"This is pretty," said she, "it is just what
+I have been looking for.  You may cut me off
+twelve yards."
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Wait a minute, though," interposed the
+lady, "will it wash?"
+
+"I don't think it will," said Paul, frankly,
+"there have been some complaints made about that."
+
+"Then I shall not want it.  Let me see what
+else you have got."
+
+The customer finally departed, having found
+nothing to suit her.
+
+No sooner had she left the store than Mr.
+Smith called Paul.
+
+"Well, did you sell that lady anything?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"And why not?" demanded Smith, harshly.
+
+"Because she did not like any of the pieces."
+
+"Wouldn't she have ordered a dress pattern
+if you had not told her the calico would not
+wash?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I suppose so," said Paul, preparing
+for a storm.
+
+"Then why did you tell her?" demanded his
+employer, angrily.
+
+"Because she asked me."
+
+"Couldn't you have told her that it would wash?"
+
+"That would not have been the truth," said Paul, sturdily.
+
+"You're a mighty conscientious young man," sneered Smith,
+"You're altogether too pious to succeed in business.
+I discharge you from my employment."
+
+"Very well, sir," said Paul, his heart sinking,
+but keeping up a brave exterior, "then I
+have only to bid you good-morning."
+
+"Good-morning, sir," said his employer with
+mock deference, "I advise you to study for the
+ministry, and no longer waste your talents in
+selling calico."
+
+Paul made no reply, but putting on his cap
+walked out of the store.  It was the middle of
+the week, and Mr. Smith was, of course, owing
+him a small sum for his services; but Paul was
+too proud to ask for his money, which that
+gentleman did not see fit to volunteer.
+
+"I am sure I have done right," thought
+Paul.  "I had no right to misrepresent the
+goods to that lady.  I wonder what Uncle
+Hugh will say."
+
+"You did perfectly right," said the sexton,
+after Paul had related the circumstances of
+his dismissal.  "I wouldn't have had you act
+differently for twenty situations.  I have no
+doubt you will get a better position elsewhere."
+
+"I hope so," said Paul.  "Now that I have
+lost the situation, Uncle Hugh, I don't mind
+saying that I never liked it."
+
+Now commenced a search for another place. 
+Day after day Paul went out, and day after
+day he returned with the same want of success.
+
+"Never mind, Paul," said the sexton
+encouragingly.  "When you do succeed, perhaps
+you'll get something worth waiting for."
+
+One morning Paul went out feeling that
+something was going to happen,--he didn't
+exactly know what,--but he felt somehow that
+there was to be a change in his luck.  He went
+out, therefore, with more hopefulness than
+usual; yet, when four o'clock came, and nothing
+had occurred except failure and disappointment,
+which unhappily were not at all out of
+the ordinary course, Paul began to think that
+he was very foolish to have expected anything.
+
+He was walking listlessly along a narrow
+street, when, on a sudden, he heard an exclamation
+of terror, of which, on turning round,
+he easily discovered the cause.
+
+Two spirited horses, attached to an elegant
+carriage, had been terrified in some way, and
+were now running at the top of their speed.
+
+There was no coachman on the box; he had
+dismounted in order to ring at some door,
+when the horses started.  He was now doing
+his best to overtake the horses, but in a race
+between man and horse, it is easy to predict
+which will have the advantage.
+
+There seemed to be but one person in the
+carriage.  It was a lady,--whose face, pale
+with terror, could be seen from the carriage
+window.  Her loud cries of alarm no doubt
+terrified the horses still more, and, by accelerating
+their speed, tended to make matters worse.
+
+Paul was roused from a train of despondent
+reflections by seeing the horses coming up the
+street.  He instantly comprehended the whole
+danger of the lady's situation.
+
+Most boys would have thought of nothing
+but getting out of the way, and leaving the
+carriage and its inmate to their fate.  What,
+indeed, could a boy do against a pair of powerful
+horses, almost beside themselves with fright?"
+
+But our hero, as we have already had
+occasion to see, was brave and self-possessed, and
+felt an instant desire to rescue the lady, whose
+glance of helpless terror, as she leaned her
+head from the window, he could see.  Naturally
+quickwitted, it flashed upon him that
+the only way to relieve a horse from one terror,
+was to bring another to bear upon him.
+
+With scarcely a moment's premeditation, he
+rushed out into the middle of the street, full
+in the path of the furious horses, and with
+his cheeks pale, for he knew his danger, but
+with determined air, he waved his arms aloft,
+and cried "Whoa!" at the top of his voice.
+
+The horses saw the sudden movement.  They saw
+the boy standing directly in front of them. 
+They heard the word of command to which
+they had been used, and by a sudden impulse,
+relieved from the blind terror which had urged
+them on, they stopped suddenly, and stood still
+in the middle of the street, still showing in
+their quivering limbs the agitation through
+which they had passed.
+
+Just then the coachman, panting with his hurried running,
+came up and seized them by the head.
+
+"Youngster," said he, "you're a brave fellow.
+You've done us a good service to-day. 
+You're a pretty cool hand, you are.  I don't
+know what these foolish horses would have done
+with the carriage if it had not been for you."
+
+"Let me get out," exclaimed the lady,
+not yet recovered from her fright.
+
+"I will open the door," said Paul, observing
+that the coachman was fully occupied in soothing
+the horses.
+
+He sprang forward, and opening the door of
+the carriage assisted the lady to descend.
+
+She breathed quickly.
+
+"I have been very much frightened," she said;
+"and I believe I have been in very great danger.
+Are you the brave boy who stopped the horses?"
+
+Paul modestly answered in the affirmative.
+
+"And how did you do it?  I was so terrified
+that I was hardly conscious of what was passing,
+till the horses stopped.
+
+Paul modestly related his agency in the matter.
+
+The lady gazed at his flushed face admiringly.
+
+"How could you have so much courage?"
+she asked.  "You might have been trampled
+to death under the hoofs of the horses."
+
+"I didn't think of that.  I only thought of
+stopping the horses."
+
+"You are a brave boy.  I shudder when I
+think of your danger and mine.  I shall not
+dare to get into the carriage again this afternoon."
+
+"Allow me to accompany you home?" said Paul, politely.
+
+"Thank you; I will trouble you to go with me as far
+as Broadway, and then I can get into an omnibus."
+
+She turned and addressed some words to the
+coachman, directing him to drive home as soon
+as the horses were quieted, adding that she
+would trust herself to the escort of the young
+hero, who had rescued her from the late peril.
+
+"You're a lucky boy," thought John, the
+coachman.  "My mistress is one that never
+does anything by halves.  It won't be for nothing
+that you have rescued her this afternoon."
+
+As they walked along, the lady, by delicate
+questioning, succeeded in drawing from our
+hero his hopes and wishes for the future.  Paul,
+who was of a frank and open nature, found
+it very natural to tell her all he felt and wished.
+
+"He seems a remarkably fine boy," thought
+the lady to herself.  "I should like to do
+something for him."
+
+They emerged into Broadway.
+
+"I will detain you a little longer," said the lady;
+"and perhaps trouble you with a parcel."
+
+"I shall be very glad to take it," said Paul politely.
+
+Appleton's bookstore was close at hand. 
+Into this the lady went, followed by her young
+companion.
+
+A clerk advanced, and inquired her wishes.
+
+"Will you show me some writing-desks?"
+
+"I am going to purchase a writing-desk for
+a young friend of mine," she explained to Paul;
+"as he is a boy, like yourself, perhaps
+you can guide me in the selection."
+
+"Certainly," said Paul, unsuspiciously.
+
+Several desks were shown.  Paul expressed
+himself admiringly of one made of rosewood
+inlaid with pearl.
+
+"I think I will take it," said the lady.
+
+The price was paid, and the desk was wrapped up.
+
+"Now," said Mrs. Danforth, for this proved
+to be her name, "I will trouble you, Paul, to
+take the desk for me, and accompany me in the
+omnibus, that is, if you have no other occupation
+for your time."
+
+"I am quite at leisure," said Paul.  "I shall
+be most happy to do so."
+
+Paul left the lady at the door of her residence
+in Fifth Avenue, and promised to call
+on his new friend the next day.
+
+He went home feeling that, though he had
+met with no success in obtaining a place, he
+had been very fortunate in rendering so important
+a service to a lady whose friendship
+might be of essential service to him.
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+PAUL CALLS ON MRS. DANFORTH.
+
+
+"Mrs. Edward Danforth," repeated the sexton,
+on hearing the story of Paul's exploit.
+
+"Why, she attends our church."
+
+"Do you know Mr. Danforth?" asked Paul,
+with interest.
+
+"Only by sight.  I know him by reputation, however."
+
+"I suppose he is very rich."
+
+"Yes, I should judge so.  At any rate, he is
+doing an extensive business."
+
+"What is his business?"
+
+"He is a merchant."
+
+"A merchant," thought Paul; "that is just
+what I should like to be, but I don't see much
+prospect of it."
+
+"How do you like Mrs. Danforth?" inquired the sexton.
+
+"Very much," said Paul, warmly.  "She was very kind,
+and made me feel quite at home in her company."
+
+"I hope she may be disposed to assist you. 
+She can easily do so, in her position."
+
+The next day Paul did not as usual go out
+in search of a situation.  His mind was occupied
+with thoughts of his coming interview with
+Mrs. Danforth, and he thought he would defer
+his business plans till the succeeding day.
+
+At an early hour in the evening, he paused
+before an imposing residence on Fifth Avenue,
+which he had seen but not entered the day previous.
+
+He mounted the steps and pulled the bell.
+
+A smart-looking man-servant answered his ring.
+
+"Is Mrs. Danforth at home?" asked Paul.
+
+"Yes, I believe so."
+
+"I have called to see her."
+
+"Does she expect you?" asked the servant,
+looking surprised.
+
+"Yes; I come at her appointment," said Paul.
+
+"Then I suppose it's all right," said the man.
+"Will you come in?" he asked, a little doubtfully.
+
+Paul followed him into the house, and was
+shown into the drawing-room, the magnificence
+of which somewhat dazzled his eyes; accustomed
+only to the plain sitting-room of Mr. Cameron.
+
+The servant reappeared after a brief
+absence, and with rather more politeness than he
+had before shown, invited Paul to follow him
+to a private sitting-room upstairs, where he
+would see Mrs. Danforth.
+
+Looking at Paul's plain, though neat clothes,
+the servant was a little puzzled to understand
+what had obtained for Paul the honor of being
+on visiting terms with Mrs. Danforth.
+
+"Good evening, Paul," said Mrs. Danforth,
+rising from her seat and welcoming our hero
+with extended hand.  "So you did not forget
+your appointment."
+
+"There was no fear of that," said Paul, with
+his usual frankness.  "I have been looking forward
+to coming all day."
+
+"Have you, indeed?" said the lady with a
+pleasant smile.
+
+"Then I must endeavor to make your visit
+agreeable to you.  Do you recognize this desk?"
+
+Upon a table close by, was the desk which
+had been purchased the day previous, at Appleton's.
+
+"Yes," said Paul, "it is the one you bought yesterday.
+I think it is very handsome."
+
+"I am glad you think so.  I think I told
+you that I intended it for a present.  I have
+had the new owner's name engraved upon it."
+
+Paul read the name upon the plate provided
+for the purpose.  His face flushed with
+surprise and pleasure.  That name was his own.
+
+"Do you really mean it for me" he asked.
+
+"If you will accept it," said Mrs. Danforth, smiling.
+
+"I shall value it very much," said Paul, gratefully.
+"And I feel very much indebted to your kindness."
+
+"We won't talk of indebtedness, for you remember
+mine is much the greater.  If you will open the desk
+you will find that it is furnished with what will,
+I hope, prove of use to you."
+
+The desk being opened, proved to contain a liberal
+supply of stationery, sealing wax, postage stamps, and pens.
+
+Paul was delighted with his new present,
+and Mrs. Danforth seemed to enjoy the
+evident gratification with which it inspired him.
+
+"Now," said she, "tell me a little about
+yourself.  Have you always lived in New York?"
+
+"Only about three years," said Paul.
+
+"And where did you live before?"
+
+"At Wrenville, in Connecticut."
+
+"I have heard of the place.  A small country town, is it not?"
+
+Paul answered in the affirmative.
+
+"How did you happen to leave Wrenville,
+and come to New York?"
+
+Paul blushed, and hesitated a moment.
+
+"I ran away," he said at length, determined
+to keep nothing back.
+
+"Ran away!  Not from home, I hope."
+
+"I had no home," said Paul, soberly.  "I
+should never have left there, if my father had
+not died.  Then I was thrown upon the world. 
+I was sent to the Poorhouse.  I did not want to go,
+for I thought I could support myself."
+
+"That is a very honorable feeling.  I suppose
+you did not fare very well at the Poorhouse."
+
+In reply, Paul detailed some of the grievances
+to which he had been subjected.  Mrs.
+Danforth listened with sympathizing attention.
+
+"You were entirely justified in running away,"
+she said, as he concluded.  "I can hardly imagine
+so great a lack of humanity as these people showed.
+You are now, I hope, pleasantly situated?"
+
+"Yes," said Paul, "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron
+treat me with as great kindness as if I were
+their own child."
+
+"Cameron!  Is not that the name of the
+sexton of our church?" said Mrs. Danforth,
+meditatively.
+
+"It is with him that I have a pleasant home."
+
+"Indeed, I am glad to hear it.  You have
+been attending school, I suppose."
+
+"Yes, it is not more than two months since
+I left off school."
+
+"And now I suppose you are thinking of
+entering upon some business."
+
+"Yes; I have been trying to obtain a place
+in some merchant's counting-room."
+
+"You think, then, that you would like the
+career of a merchant?"
+
+"There is nothing that would suit me better."
+
+"You have not succeeded in obtaining a
+place yet, I suppose?"
+
+"No.  They are very difficult to get, and I
+have no influential friends to assist me."
+
+"I have heard Mr. Danforth say that he
+experienced equal difficulty when he came to
+New York, a poor boy."
+
+Paul looked surprised.
+
+"I see that you are surprised," said Mrs.
+Danforth, smiling.  "You think, perhaps, judging
+from what you see, that my husband was
+always rich.  But he was the son of a poor
+farmer, and was obliged to make his own way
+in the world.  By the blessing of God, he has
+been prospered in business and become rich. 
+But he often speaks of his early discouragements
+and small beginnings.  I am sorry he
+is not here this evening.  By the way, he left
+word for you to call at his counting-room to-
+morrow, at eleven o'clock.  I will give you his
+address."
+
+She handed Paul a card containing the
+specified number, and soon after he withdrew,
+bearing with him his handsome gift, and
+a cordial invitation to repeat his call.
+
+He looked back at the elegant mansion
+which he had just left, and could not help feeling
+surprised that the owner of such a palace,
+should have started in life with no greater
+advantages than himself.
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
+
+
+Paul slept late the next morning.  He did
+not hear the breakfast-bell, and when the sexton
+came up to awaken him he rubbed his eyes
+with such an expression of bewilderment that
+Mr. Cameron could not forbear laughing.
+
+"You must have had queer dreams, Paul,"
+said he.
+
+"Yes, Uncle Hugh," said Paul, laughing, "I
+believe I have."
+
+"When you have collected your wits, which
+at present seem absent on a wool-gathering
+expedition, perhaps you will tell what you have
+been dreaming about."
+
+"So I will," said Paul, "and perhaps you
+can interpret it for me.  I dreamed that I was
+back again at Mr. Mudge's, and that he sent me
+out into the field to dig potatoes.  I worked
+away at the first hill, but found no potatoes. 
+In place of them were several gold pieces.  I
+picked them up in great surprise, and instead
+of putting them into the basket, concluded to
+put them in my pocket.  But as all the hills
+turned out in the same way I got my pockets
+full, and had to put the rest in the basket.  I
+was just wondering what they would do for
+potatoes, when all at once a great dog came up
+and seized me by the arm----"
+
+"And you opened your eyes and saw me,"
+said the sexton, finishing out his narrative.
+
+"Upon my word, that's very complimentary
+to me.  However, some of our potatoes have
+escaped transformation into gold pieces, but I
+am afraid you will find them rather cold if you
+don't get down to breakfast pretty quick."
+
+"All right, Uncle Hugh.  I'll be down in a jiffy."
+
+About half-past ten Paul started on his way
+to Mr. Danforth's counting-room.  It was located
+on Wall Street, as he learned from the
+card which had been given him by Mrs. Danforth. 
+He felt a little awkward in making this
+call.  It seemed as if he were going to receive
+thanks for the service which he had rendered,
+and he felt that he had already been abundantly
+repaid.  However, he was bound in courtesy to call,
+since he did so at the request of Mrs. Danforth.
+
+It was a large stone building, divided up
+into offices, to which Paul had been directed. 
+Mr. Danforth's office he found after a little
+search, upon the second floor.
+
+He opened the door with a little
+embarrassment, and looked about him.
+
+In one corner was a small room, used as a
+more private office, the door of which was
+closed.  In the larger room the only one whom
+he saw, was a boy, apparently about his own
+age, who was standing at a desk and writing.
+
+This boy looked around as Paul entered, and
+he at once recognized in him an old acquaintance.
+
+"George Dawkins!" he exclaimed in surprise.
+
+The latter answered in a careless indifferent
+tone, not exhibiting any very decided pleasure
+at meeting his old schoolmate.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Prescott, is it?"
+
+"Yes," said Paul, "I haven't met you since
+you left our school."
+
+"No, I believe we have not met," said Dawkins,
+in the same tone as before.
+
+"How long have you been in this office?"
+asked our hero.
+
+"I really can't say," said Dawkins, not
+looking up.
+
+"You can't say!"
+
+"No, I'm rather forgetful."
+
+Paul could not help feeling chilled at the
+indifferent manner in which his advances were
+met.  He had been really glad to see Dawkins,
+and had addressed him with cordiality.  He
+could not conceal from himself that Dawkins
+did not seem inclined to respond to it.
+
+"Still," thought Paul, extenuatingly,
+"perhaps that is his way."
+
+As the conversation began to flag, Paul was
+reminded of his errand by Dawkins saying, in
+a tone which was half a sneer, "Have you any
+business with Mr. Danforth this morning, or
+did you merely come in out of curiosity?"
+
+"I have called to see Mr. Danforth," said Paul.
+
+"He is usually pretty busy in the morning,"
+said Dawkins.
+
+"He directed me to call in the morning,"
+said Paul, sturdily.
+
+"Oh, indeed!" said Dawkins, a little
+surprised.  "I wonder," he thought, "what
+business this fellow can have with Mr. Danforth. 
+Can he be fishing for a place?"
+
+"Mr. Danforth is engaged with a visitor
+just now," he at length condescended to say;
+"if your time is not too valuable to wait, you
+can see him by-and-by."
+
+"Thank you," said Paul, rather nettled,
+"you are very polite."
+
+To this Dawkins made no reply, but resumed
+his pen, and for the next ten minutes seemed
+entirely oblivious of Paul's presence.
+
+Our hero took up the morning paper, and
+began, as he had so often done before, to look
+over the list of wants, thinking it possible he
+might find some opening for himself.
+
+About ten minutes later the door of the
+inner office opened, and two gentlemen came
+out.  One was a gentleman of fifty, a business
+friend of Mr. Danforth's, the other was Mr.
+Danforth himself.
+
+The former remarked, on seeing Paul, "Is
+this your son, Danforth?"
+
+"No," said the merchant, nodding in a
+friendly manner to Paul.
+
+"That's a good joke," thought Dawkins,
+chuckling to himself; "Mr. Danforth must
+be immensely flattered at having a sexton's
+adopted son taken for his."
+
+After a final word or two on business
+matters, and arrangements for another interview,
+the visitor departed, and Mr. Danforth, now
+at leisure, turned to Paul.
+
+"Now my lad," he said kindly, "if you will
+follow me, we shall have a chance to talk a little."
+
+Paul followed the merchant into his office,
+the door of which was closed, much to the regret
+of Dawkins, who had a tolerably large
+share of curiosity, and was very anxious to
+find out what business Paul could possibly
+have with his employer.
+
+"Take that seat, if you please;" said Mr.
+Danforth, motioning Paul to an arm-chair, and
+sitting down himself, "Mrs. Danforth told me
+from how great a peril you rescued her.  You
+are a brave boy."
+
+"I don't know," said Paul, modestly, "I
+didn't think of the danger.  If I had, perhaps
+I should have hesitated."
+
+"If you had not been brave you would have
+thought of your own risk.  My wife and myself
+are under very great obligations to you."
+
+"That more than repays me for all I did,"
+said Paul, in a tone of mingled modesty and
+manliness.
+
+"I like the boy," thought Mr. Danforth;
+"he is certainly quite superior to the common run."
+
+"Have you left school?" he inquired, after a pause.
+
+"Yes, sir.  Last term closed my school life."
+
+"Then you have never been in a situation."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Indeed!  Before you left school?"
+
+"No, sir, since."
+
+"You did not like it, then?"
+
+"No, sir," said Paul.
+
+"And was that the reason of your leaving?"
+
+"No, sir; my employer was not satisfied with me,"
+said Paul, frankly.
+
+"Indeed!  I am surprised to hear this!
+If you have no objection, will you tell me
+the circumstances?"
+
+Paul related in a straightforward manner
+the difficulty he had had with Smith & Thompson.
+
+"I hope you don't think I did wrong," he concluded.
+
+"By no means," said Mr. Danforth, warmly.
+"Your conduct was entirely creditable.
+As for Smith, I know of him.  He is a sharper.
+It would have done you no good to remain in his employ."
+
+Paul was pleased with this commendation. 
+He had thought it possible that his dismissal
+from his former situation might operate
+against him with the merchant.
+
+"What are your present plans and wishes?"
+asked Mr. Danforth, after a slight pause.
+
+"I should like to enter a merchant's counting-room,"
+said Paul, "but as such places are hard to get,
+I think I shall try to get into a store."
+
+Mr. Danforth reflected a moment, then
+placing a piece of paper before our hero, he
+said, "Will you write your name and address
+on this piece of paper, that I may know where
+to find you, in case I hear of a place?"
+
+Paul did as directed.  He had an excellent handwriting,
+a point on which the merchant set a high value.
+
+The latter surveyed the address with
+approval, and said, "I am glad you write so
+excellent a hand.  It will be of material
+assistance to you in securing a place in a counting-
+room.  Indeed, it has been already, for I have
+just thought of a place which I can obtain for you."
+
+"Can you, sir?" said Paul, eagerly.
+
+"Where is it?"
+
+"In my own counting-room," said Mr.
+Danforth, smiling.
+
+"I am very much obliged to you," said Paul,
+hardly believing his ears.
+
+"I was prepared to give it to you when you
+came in, in case I found you qualified.  The
+superiority of your handwriting decides me. 
+When can you come?"
+
+"To-morrow, if you like, sir."
+
+"I like your promptness.  As it is the middle
+of the week, however, you may take a vacation
+till Monday.  Your salary will begin to-morrow."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"I will give you five dollars per week at
+first, and more as your services become more
+valuable.  Will that be satisfactory?"
+
+"I shall feel rich, sir.  Mr. Smith only gave
+me a dollar and a quarter."
+
+"I hope you will find other differences between
+me and Mr. Smith," said the merchant, smiling.
+
+These preliminaries over, Mr. Danforth
+opened the door, and glancing at Dawkins,
+said, "Dawkins, I wish you to become
+acquainted with your fellow clerk, Paul Prescott."
+
+Dawkins looked surprised, and anything but
+gratified as he responded stiffly, "I have the
+honor of being already acquainted with Mr. Prescott."
+
+"He is a little jealous of an interloper,"
+thought Mr. Danforth, noticing the repellent
+manner of young Dawkins.  "Never mind,
+they will get acquainted after awhile."
+
+When George Dawkins went home to dinner,
+his father observed the dissatisfied look he wore.
+
+"Is anything amiss, my son?" he inquired.
+
+"I should think there was," grumbled his son.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"We've got a new clerk, and who do you think it is?"
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"The adopted son of old Cameron, the sexton."
+
+"Indeed," said Mrs. Dawkins.  "I really
+wonder at Mr. Danforth's bad taste.  There are
+many boys of genteel family, who would have
+been glad of the chance.  This boy is a low
+fellow of course."
+
+"Certainly," said her son, though he was
+quite aware that this was not true.
+
+"What could have brought the boy to Danforth's
+notice?" asked Dawkins, senior.
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure.  The boy has
+managed to get round him in some way.  He is
+very artful."
+
+"I really think, husband, that you ought to
+remonstrate with Mr. Danforth about taking
+such a low fellow into his counting-room with
+our George."
+
+"Pooh!" said Mr. Dawkins, who was a
+shade more sensible than his wife, "he'd think
+me a meddler."
+
+"At any rate, George," pursued his mother,
+"there's one thing that is due to your family
+and bringing up,--not to associate with this
+low fellow any more than business requires."
+
+"I certainly shall not," said George, promptly.
+
+He was the worthy son of such a mother.
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+A VULGAR RELATION.
+
+
+At the end of the first week, Paul received
+five dollars, the sum which the merchant had
+agreed to pay him for his services.  With this
+he felt very rich.  He hurried home, and
+displayed to the sexton the crisp bank note which
+had been given him.
+
+"You will soon be a rich man, Paul," said Mr. Cameron,
+with a benevolent smile, returning the bill.
+
+"But I want you to keep it, Uncle Hugh."
+
+"Shall I put it in the Savings Bank, for you, Paul?"
+
+"I didn't mean that.  You have been
+supporting me--giving me board and clothes--for
+three years.  It is only right that you should
+have what I earn."
+
+"The offer is an honorable one on your part,
+Paul," said the sexton; "but I don't need it. 
+If it will please you, I will take two dollars
+a week for your board, now, and out of the
+balance you may clothe yourself, and save
+what you can."
+
+This arrangement seemed to be a fair one. 
+Mr. Cameron deposited the five dollar note in
+his pocket-book, and passed one of three
+dollars to Paul.  This sum our hero deposited the
+next Monday morning, in a savings bank.  He
+estimated that he could clothe himself
+comfortably for fifty dollars a year.  This would
+leave him one hundred towards the payment
+of the debt due to Squire Conant.
+
+"By-and-by my salary will be raised,"
+thought Paul.  "Then I can save more."
+
+He looked forward with eager anticipation
+to the time when he should be able to redeem
+his father's name, and no one would be entitled
+to cast reproach upon his memory.
+
+He endeavored to perform his duties
+faithfully in the office, and to learn as rapidly as he
+could the business upon which he had entered. 
+He soon found that he must depend mainly
+upon himself.  George Dawkins seemed disposed
+to afford him no assistance, but repelled
+scornfully the advances which Paul made towards
+cordiality.  He was by no means as
+faithful as Paul, but whenever Mr. Danforth
+was absent from the office, spent his time in
+lounging at the window, or reading a cheap
+novel, with one of which he was usually provided.
+
+When Paul became satisfied that Dawkins
+was not inclined to accept his overtures, he
+ceased to court his acquaintance, and confined
+himself to his own desk.
+
+One day as he was returning from dinner, he
+was startled by an unceremonious slap upon
+the shoulder.
+
+Looking up in some surprise, he found that
+this greeting had come from a man just behind
+him, whose good-humored face and small,
+twinkling eyes, he at once recognized.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Stubbs?" inquired
+Paul, his face lighting up with pleasure.
+
+"I'm so's to be round.  How be you?"
+returned the worthy pedler, seizing our hero's
+hand and shaking it heartily.
+
+Mr. Stubbs was attired in all the glory of a
+blue coat with brass buttons and swallow tails.
+
+"When did you come to New York?" asked Paul.
+
+"Just arrived; that is, I got in this mornin'. 
+But I say, how you've grown.  I shouldn't
+hardly have known you."
+
+"Shouldn't you, though?" said Paul, gratified as
+most boys are, on being told that he had grown.
+"Have you come to the city on business?"
+
+"Well, kinder on business, and kinder not. 
+I thought I'd like to have a vacation.  Besides,
+the old lady wanted a silk dress, and she was
+sot on havin' it bought in York.  So I come to
+the city."
+
+"Where are you stopping, Mr. Stubbs?"
+
+"Over to the Astor House.  Pretty big hotel, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes, I see you are traveling in style."
+
+"Yes, I suppose they charge considerable,
+but I guess I can stand it.  I hain't been
+drivin' a tin-cart for nothin' the last ten years.
+
+"How have you been enjoying yourself since you arrived?"
+
+"Oh, pretty well.  I've been round seeing
+the lions, and came pretty near seeing the
+elephant at one of them Peter Funk places."
+
+"You did!  Tell me about it."
+
+"You see I was walkin' along when a fellow
+came out of one of them places, and asked me
+if I wouldn't go in.  I didn't want to refuse
+such a polite invitation, and besides I had a
+curiosity to see what there was to be seen, so
+I went in.  They put up a silver watch, I could
+see that it was a good one, and so I bid on it. 
+It ran up to eight dollars and a quarter.  I
+thought it was a pity it should go off so cheap,
+so I bid eight and a half."
+
+"`Eight and a half and sold,' said the man;
+`shall I put it up for you?"
+
+"`No, I thank you,' said I, `I'll take it as it is.'
+
+"`But I'll put it up in a nice box for you,' said he.
+
+"I told him I didn't care for the box.  He
+seemed very unwilling to let it go, but I took
+it out of his hand and he couldn't help himself. 
+Well, when they made out the bill, what do
+you suppose they charged?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Why, eighteen and a half."
+
+"`Look here,' said I, `I guess here's something
+of a mistake.  You've got ten dollars too much.'
+
+"`I think you must be mistaken,' said he,
+smiling a foxy smile.
+
+"`You know I am not,' said I, rather cross.
+
+"We can't let that watch go for any thing shorter,'
+said he, coolly.
+
+"Just then a man that was present stepped up and said,
+`the man is right; don't attempt to impose upon him.'
+
+"With that he calmed right down.  It seems
+it was a policeman who was sent to watch
+them, that spoke.  So I paid the money, but as
+I went out I heard the auctioneer say that the
+sale was closed for the day.  I afterwards
+learned that if I had allowed them to put the
+watch in a box, they would have exchanged it
+for another that was only plated."
+
+"Do you know anybody in the city?" asked Paul.
+
+"I've got some relations, but I don't know
+where they live."
+
+"What is the name?" asked Paul, "we can
+look into the directory."
+
+"The name is Dawkins," answered the pedler.
+
+"Dawkins!" repeated Paul, in surprise.
+
+"Yes, do you happen to know anybody of the name?"
+
+"Yes, but I believe it is a rich family."
+
+"Well, so are my relations," said Jehoshaphat. 
+"You didn't think Jehoshaphat Stubbs
+had any rich relations, did you?  These, as I've
+heard tell, hold their heads as high as anybody."
+
+"Perhaps I may be mistaken," said Paul.
+
+"What is the name--the Christian name, I
+mean--of your relation?"
+
+"George."
+
+"It must be he, then.  There is a boy of
+about my own age of that name.  He works in
+the same office."
+
+"You don't say so!  Well, that is curious, I
+declare.  To think that I should have happened
+to hit upon you so by accident too."
+
+"How are you related to them?" inquired Paul.
+
+"Why, you see, I'm own cousin to Mr. Dawkins. 
+His father and my mother were brother and sister."
+
+"What was his father's business?" asked Paul.
+
+"I don't know what his regular business
+was, but he was a sexton in some church."
+
+This tallied with the account Paul had
+received from Mr. Cameron, and he could no
+longer doubt that, strange as it seemed, the
+wealthy Mr. Dawkins was own cousin to the pedler.
+
+"Didn't you say the boy was in the same
+office with you, Paul?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I've a great mind to go and see him,
+and find out where his father lives.  Perhaps
+I may get an invite to his house."
+
+"How shocked Dawkins will be!" thought
+Paul, not, it must be confessed, without a feeling
+of amusement.  He felt no compunction
+in being the instrument of mortifying the false
+pride of his fellow clerk, and he accordingly
+signified to Mr. Stubbs that he was on his way
+to the counting-room.
+
+"Are you, though?  Well, I guess I'll go
+along with you.  Is it far off?"
+
+"Only in the next street."
+
+The pedler, it must be acknowledged, had a
+thoroughly countrified appearance.  He was
+a genuine specimen of the Yankee,--a long,
+gaunt figure, somewhat stooping, and with a long
+aquiline nose.  His dress has already been described.
+
+As Dawkins beheld him entering with Paul,
+he turned up his nose in disgust at what he
+considered Paul's friend.
+
+What was his consternation when the
+visitor, approaching him with a benignant
+smile, extended his brown hand, and said,
+"How d'ye do, George?  How are ye all to hum?"
+
+Dawkins drew back haughtily.
+
+"What do you mean?" he said, pale with passion.
+
+"Mr. Dawkins," said Paul, with suppressed merriment,
+"allow me to introduce your cousin, Mr. Stubbs."
+
+"Jehoshaphat Stubbs," explained that individual.
+"Didn't your father never mention my name to you?"
+
+"Sir," said Dawkins, darting a furious glance at Paul,
+"you are entirely mistaken if you suppose that any
+relationship exists between me and that--person."
+
+"No, it's you that are mistaken," said Mr.
+Stubbs, persevering, "My mother was Roxana
+Jane Dawkins.  She was own sister to your
+grandfather.  That makes me and your father
+cousins Don't you see?"
+
+"I see that you are intending to insult me,"
+said Dawkins, the more furiously, because he
+began to fear there might be some truth in the
+man's claims.  "Mr. Prescott, I leave you to
+entertain your company yourself."
+
+And he threw on his hat and dashed out of
+the counting-room.
+
+"Well," said the pedler, drawing a long
+breath, "that's cool,--denyin' his own flesh
+and blood.  Rather stuck up, ain't he?"
+
+"He is, somewhat," said Paul; "if I were you,
+I shouldn't be disposed to own him as a relation."
+
+"Darned ef I will!" said Jehoshaphat
+sturdily; "I have some pride, ef I am a pedler. 
+Guess I'm as good as he, any day."
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+MR. MUDGE'S FRIGHT.
+
+
+Squire Newcome sat in a high-backed chair
+before the fire with his heels on the fender. 
+He was engaged in solemnly perusing the leading
+editorial in the evening paper, when all
+at once the table at his side gave a sudden
+lurch, the lamp slid into his lap, setting the
+paper on fire, and, before the Squire realized
+his situation, the flames singed his whiskers,
+and made his face unpleasantly warm.
+
+"Cre-a-tion!" he exclaimed, jumping
+briskly to his feet.
+
+The lamp had gone out, so that the cause
+of the accident remained involved in mystery. 
+The Squire had little trouble in conjecturing,
+however, that Ben was at the bottom of it.
+
+Opening the door hastily, he saw, by the
+light in the next room, that young gentleman
+rising from his knees in the immediate vicinity
+of the table.
+
+"Ben-ja-min," said the Squire, sternly,
+
+"What have you been a-doing?"
+
+Ben looked sheepish, but said nothing.
+
+"I repeat, Benjamin, what have you been
+a-doing?"
+
+"I didn't mean to," said Ben.
+
+"That does not answer my interrogatory. 
+What have you been a-doing?"
+
+"I was chasing the cat," said Ben, "and
+she got under the table.  I went after her, and
+somehow it upset.  Guess my head might have
+knocked against the legs."
+
+"How old are you, Benjamin?"
+
+"Fifteen."
+
+"A boy of fifteen is too old to play with cats. 
+You may retire to your dormitory."
+
+"It's only seven o'clock, father," said Ben,
+in dismay.
+
+"Boys that play with cats are young enough
+to retire at seven," remarked the Squire,
+sagaciously.
+
+There was nothing for Ben but to obey.
+
+Accordingly with reluctant steps he went up
+to his chamber and went to bed.  His active
+mind, together with the early hour, prevented
+his sleeping.  Instead, his fertile imagination
+was employed in devising some new scheme, in
+which, of course, fun was to be the object
+attained.  While he was thinking, one scheme
+flashed upon him which he at once pronounced "bully."
+
+"I wish I could do it to-night," he sighed.
+
+"Why can't I?" he thought, after a
+moment's reflection.
+
+The more he thought of it, the more feasible
+it seemed, and at length he decided to attempt it.
+
+Rising from his bed he quickly dressed
+himself, and then carefully took the sheet, and
+folding it up in small compass put it under his
+arm.
+
+Next, opening the window, he stepped out
+upon the sloping roof of the ell part, and slid
+down to the end where he jumped off, the
+height not being more than four feet from the
+ground.  By some accident, a tub of suds was
+standing under the eaves, and Ben, much to
+his disgust, jumped into it.
+
+"Whew!" exclaimed he, "I've jumped into
+that plaguy tub.  What possessed Hannah to
+put it in a fellow's way?"
+
+At this moment the back door opened, and
+Hannah called out, in a shrill voice, "Who's
+there?"  Ben hastily hid himself, and thought
+it best not to answer.
+
+"I guess 'twas the cat," said Hannah, as
+she closed the door.
+
+"A two-legged cat," thought Ben, to
+himself; "thunder, what sopping wet feet I've got. 
+Well, it can't be helped."
+
+With the sheet still under his arm, Ben
+climbed a fence and running across the fields
+reached the fork of the road.  Here he concealed
+himself under a hedge, and waited
+silently till the opportunity for playing his
+practical joke arrived.
+
+I regret to say that Mr. Mudge, with whom
+we have already had considerable to do, was
+not a member of the temperance society.  Latterly,
+influenced perhaps by Mrs. Mudge's
+tongue, which made his home far from a happy
+one, he had got into the habit of spending his
+evenings at the tavern in the village, where he
+occasionally indulged in potations that were
+not good for him.  Generally, he kept within
+the bounds of moderation, but occasionally he
+exceeded these, as he had done on the present
+occasion.
+
+Some fifteen minutes after Ben had taken
+his station, he saw, in the moonlight, Mr.
+Mudge coming up the road, on his way home. 
+Judging from his zigzag course, he was not
+quite himself.
+
+Ben waited till Mr. Mudge was close at
+hand, when all at once he started from his
+place of concealment completely enveloped
+in the sheet with which he was provided. 
+He stood motionless before the astounded Mudge.
+
+"Who are you?" exclaimed Mudge, his
+knees knocking together in terror, clinging to
+an overhanging branch for support.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+"Who are you?" he again asked in affright.
+
+"Sally Baker," returned Ben, in as
+sepulchral a voice as he could command.
+
+Sally Baker was an old pauper, who had
+recently died.  The name occurred to Ben on
+the spur of the moment.  It was with some
+difficulty that he succeeded in getting out the
+name, such was his amusement at Mr. Mudge's
+evident terror.
+
+"What do you want of me?" inquired Mudge, nervously.
+
+"You half starved me when I was alive," returned Ben,
+in a hollow voice, "I must be revenged."
+
+So saying he took one step forward,
+spreading out his arms.  This was too much for Mr.
+Mudge.  With a cry he started and ran towards
+home at the top of his speed, with Ben in pursuit.
+
+"I believe I shall die of laughing, exclaimed Ben,
+pausing out of breath, and sitting down on a stone,
+"what a donkey he is, to be sure, to think there are
+such things as ghosts.  I'd like to be by when he tells
+Mrs. Mudge."
+
+After a moment's thought, Ben wrapped up
+the sheet, took it under his arm, and once
+more ran in pursuit of Mr. Mudge.
+
+Meanwhile Mrs. Mudge was sitting in the
+kitchen of the Poorhouse, mending stockings. 
+She was not in the pleasantest humor, for one
+of the paupers had managed to break a plate
+at tea-table (if that can be called tea where
+no tea is provided), and trifles were sufficient
+to ruffle Mrs. Mudge's temper.
+
+"Where's Mudge, I wonder?" she said,
+sharply; "over to the tavern, I s'pose, as usual. 
+There never was such a shiftless, good-for-
+nothing man.  I'd better have stayed unmarried
+all the days of my life than have married
+him.  If he don't get in by ten, I'll lock the
+door, and it shall stay locked.  'Twill serve him
+right to stay out doors all night."
+
+Minutes slipped away, and the decisive hour
+approached.
+
+"I'll go to the door and look out," thought
+Mrs. Mudge, "if he ain't anywhere in sight
+I'll fasten the door."
+
+She laid down her work and went to the door.
+
+She had not quite reached it when it was
+flung open violently, and Mr. Mudge, with a
+wild, disordered look, rushed in, nearly over-
+turning his wife, who gazed at him with mingled
+anger and astonishment.
+
+"What do you mean by this foolery, Mudge?"
+she demanded, sternly.
+
+"What do I mean?" repeated her husband, vaguely.
+
+"I needn't ask you," said his wife, contemptuously.
+"I see how it is, well enough.  You're drunk!"
+
+"Drunk!"
+
+"Yes, drunk; as drunk as a beast."
+
+"Well, Mrs. Mudge," hiccoughed her husband,
+in what he endeavored to make a dignified tone,
+"you'd be drunk too if you'd seen what I've seen."
+
+"And what have you seen, I should like to know?"
+said Mrs. Mudge.
+
+Mudge rose with some difficulty, steadied
+himself on his feet, and approaching his wife,
+whispered in a tragic tone, "Mrs. Mudge, I've
+seen a sperrit."
+
+"It's plain enough that you've seen spirit,"
+retorted his wife.  "'Tisn't many nights that
+you don't, for that matter.  You ought to be
+ashamed of yourself, Mudge."
+
+"It isn't that," said her husband, shaking his hand,
+"it's a sperrit,--a ghost, that I've seen."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mrs. Mudge, sarcastically,
+"perhaps you can tell whose it is."
+
+"It was the sperrit of Sally Baker," said Mudge, solemnly.
+
+"What did she say?" demanded Mrs. Mudge, a little curiously.
+
+"She said that I--that we, half starved her,
+and then she started to run after me--and--
+oh, Lordy, there she is now!"
+
+Mudge jumped trembling to his feet.  Following
+the direction of his outstretched finger,
+Mrs. Mudge caught a glimpse of a white figure
+just before the window.  I need hardly say
+that it was Ben, who had just arrived upon
+the scene.
+
+Mrs. Mudge was at first stupefied by what
+she saw, but being a woman of courage she
+speedily recovered herself, and seizing the
+broom from behind the door, darted out in
+search of the "spirit." But Ben, perceiving
+that he was discovered, had disappeared, and
+there was nothing to be seen.
+
+"Didn't I tell you so?" muttered Mudge,
+as his wife re-entered, baffled in her attempt,
+"you'll believe it's a sperrit, now."
+
+"Go to bed, you fool!" retorted his wife.
+
+This was all that passed between Mr. and
+Mrs. Mudge on the subject.  Mr. Mudge firmly
+believes, to this day, that the figure which
+appeared to him was the spirit of Sally Baker.
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+HOW BEN GOT HOME.
+
+
+Delighted with the complete success of his
+practical joke, Ben took his way homeward
+with the sheet under his arm.  By the time he
+reached his father's house it was ten o'clock. 
+The question for Ben to consider now was,
+how to get in.  If his father had not fastened
+the front door he might steal in, and slip up
+stairs on tiptoe without being heard.  This
+would be the easiest way of overcoming the
+difficulty, and Ben, perceiving that the light
+was still burning in the sitting-room, had some
+hopes that he would be able to adopt it.  But
+while he was only a couple of rods distant he
+saw the lamp taken up by his father, who
+appeared to be moving from the room.
+
+"He's going to lock the front door," thought
+Ben, in disappointment; "if I had only got
+along five minutes sooner."
+
+From his post outside he heard the key turn
+in the lock.
+
+The 'Squire little dreamed that the son
+whom he imagined fast asleep in his room was
+just outside the door he was locking.
+
+"I guess I'll go round to the back part of
+the house," thought Ben, "perhaps I can get
+in the same way I came out."
+
+Accordingly he went round and managed to
+clamber upon the roof, which was only four
+feet from the ground.  But a brief trial served
+to convince our young adventurer that it is a
+good deal easier sliding down a roof than it is
+climbing up.  The shingles being old were
+slippery, and though the ascent was not steep,
+Ben found the progress he made was very
+much like that of a man at the bottom of a
+well, who is reported as falling back two feet
+for every three that he ascended.  What
+increased the difficulty of his attempt was that
+the soles of his shoes were well worn, and
+slippery as well as the shingles.
+
+"I never can get up this way," Ben concluded,
+after several fruitless attempts; "I know what I'll do,"
+he decided, after a moment's perplexity; "I'll pull
+off my shoes and stockings, and then I guess I can
+get along better."
+
+Ben accordingly got down from the roof, and
+pulled off his shoes and stockings.  As he
+wanted to carry these with him, he was at first
+a little puzzled by this new difficulty.  He
+finally tied the shoes together by the strings
+and hung them round his neck.  He disposed
+of the stockings by stuffing one in each pocket.
+
+"Now," thought Ben, "I guess I can get
+along better.  I don't know what to do with
+the plaguy sheet, though."
+
+But necessity is the mother of invention,
+and Ben found that he could throw the sheet
+over his shoulders, as a lady does with her
+shawl.  Thus accoutered he recommenced the
+ascent with considerable confidence.
+
+He found that his bare feet clung to the
+roof more tenaciously than the shoes had done,
+and success was already within his grasp, when
+an unforeseen mishap frustrated his plans.  He
+had accomplished about three quarters of the
+ascent when all at once the string which united
+the shoes which he had hung round his neck
+gave way, and both fell with a great thump on
+the roof.  Ben made a clutch for them in which
+he lost his own hold, and made a hurried descent
+in their company, alighting with his bare
+feet on some flinty gravel stones, which he
+found by no means agreeable.
+
+"Ow!" ejaculated Ben, limping painfully,
+"them plaguy gravel stones hurt like thunder. 
+I'll move 'em away the first thing to-morrow. 
+If that confounded shoe-string hadn't broken
+I'd have been in bed by this time."
+
+Meanwhile Hannah had been sitting over
+the kitchen fire enjoying a social chat with a
+"cousin" of hers from Ireland, a young man
+whom she had never seen or heard of three
+months before.  In what way he had succeeded
+in convincing her of the relationship I have
+never been able to learn, but he had managed
+to place himself on familiar visiting terms with
+the inmate of 'Squire Newcome's kitchen.
+
+"It's only me cousin, sir," Hannah explained
+to the 'Squire, when he had questioned her
+on the subject; "he's just from Ireland, sir,
+and it seems like home to see him."
+
+On the present occasion Tim Flaherty had
+outstayed his usual time, and was still in the
+kitchen when Ben reached home.  They did
+not at first hear him, but when he made his
+last abortive attempt, and the shoes came
+clattering down, they could not help hearing.
+
+"What's that?" asked Hannah, listening attentively.
+
+She went to the door to look out, her cousin following.
+
+There was nothing to be seen.
+
+"Perhaps you was dramin' Hannah," said
+Tim, "more by token, it's time we was both
+doin' that same, so I'll bid you good-night."
+
+"Come again soon, Tim," said Hannah,
+preparing to close the door.
+
+A new plan of entrance flashed upon Ben.
+
+He quickly put on his shoes and stockings,
+unfolded the sheet and prepared to enact the
+part of a ghost once more,--this time for the
+special benefit of Hannah.
+
+After fully attiring himself he came to the
+back door which Hannah had already locked,
+and tapped three times.
+
+Hannah was engaged in raking out the
+kitchen fire.
+
+"Sure it's Tim come back," thought she,
+as she went to the door.  "Perhaps he's
+forgotten something."
+
+She opened the door unsuspiciously, fully expecting
+to see her Irish cousin standing before her.
+
+What was her terror on beholding a white-
+robed figure, with extended arms.
+
+"Howly virgin, defend me!" she exclaimed,
+in paralyzing terror, which was increased by a
+guttural sound which proceeded from the throat
+of the ghost, who at the same time waved
+his arms aloft, and made a step towards Hannah.
+
+Hannah, with a wild howl dropped the lamp
+and fed towards the sitting-room, where
+'Squire Newcome was still sitting.
+
+Ben sped upstairs at the top of his speed,
+dashed into his own chamber, spread the sheet
+on the bed, and undressed so rapidly that he
+seemed only to shake his clothes off, and
+jumped into bed.  He closed his eyes and
+appeared to be in a profound slumber.
+
+Hannah's sudden appearance in the sitting-
+room in such a state naturally astonished the 'Squire.
+
+"What's the matter?" he demanded of the affrighted servant.
+
+"Oh, sir," she gasped, "I'm almost kilt entirely."
+
+"Are you?" said the 'Squire, "you appear
+to be more frightened than hurt."
+
+"Yes, sir, shure I am frightened, which indeed
+I couldn't help it, sir, for I never saw
+a ghost before in all my life."
+
+"A ghost!  What nonsense are you talking, Hannah?"
+
+"Shure it's not nonsense, for it's just now
+that the ghost came to the door, sir, and
+knocked, and I went to the door thinking it
+might be me cousin, who's been passing the
+evening with me, when I saw a great white
+ghost, ten foot tall, standing forninst me."
+
+"Ten feet tall?"
+
+"Yes, sir, and he spread out his arms and
+spoke in a terrible voice, and was going to
+carry me off wid him, but I dropped the lamp,
+and O sir, I'm kilt entirely."
+
+"This is a strange story," said 'Squire
+Newcome, rather suspiciously; "I hope you have
+not been drinking."
+
+Hannah protested vehemently that not a drop
+of liquor had passed her lips, which was true.
+
+"I'll go out and hunt for the ghost," said the 'Squire.
+
+"Oh, don't sir.  He'll carry you off,"
+said Hannah, terrified.
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed the 'Squire.  "Follow me,
+or you may stay here if you are frightened."
+
+This Hannah would by no means do, since
+the 'Squire had taken the lamp and she would
+be left in the dark.
+
+Accordingly she followed him with a
+trembling step, as he penetrated through the
+kitchen into the back room, ready to run at the
+least alarm.
+
+The back-door was wide open, but nothing
+was to be seen of the ghost.
+
+"Perhaps the ghost's up-stairs," said Hannah,
+"I can't sleep up there this night, shure."
+
+But something had attracted Squire Newcome's
+attention.  It was quite muddy out of
+doors, and Ben had tracked in considerable
+mud with him.  The footprints were very
+perceptible on the painted floor.
+
+"The ghost seems to have had muddy shoes,"
+said the 'Squire dryly; "I guess I can find
+him."
+
+He followed the tracks which witnessed so
+strongly against Ben, to whose chamber they led.
+
+Ben, though still awake, appeared to be in a
+profound slumber.
+
+"Ben-ja-min!" said his father, stooping over the bed.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+"Ben-ja-min!" repeated his father, giving
+him a shake, "what does all this mean?"
+
+"What?" inquired Ben, opening his eyes,
+and looking very innocent.
+
+"Where have you been, to-night?"
+
+"You sent me to bed," said Ben, "and I came."
+
+But the 'Squire was not to be deceived.  He
+was already in possession of too much information
+to be put off.  So Ben, who with all his
+love of mischief was a boy of truth, finally
+owned up everything.  His father said very
+little, but told him the next morning that he
+had made up his mind to send him to a military
+boarding-school, where the discipline was
+very strict.  Ben hardly knew whether to he
+glad or sorry, but finally, as boys like change
+and variety, came to look upon his new
+prospects with considerable cheerfulness.
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+DAWKINS IN DIFFICULTIES.
+
+
+George Dawkins was standing at his desk
+one morning, when a man entered the office,
+and stepping up to him, unceremoniously
+tapped him on the shoulder.
+
+Dawkins turned.  He looked extremely
+annoyed on perceiving his visitor, whose outward
+appearance was certainly far from prepossessing. 
+His face exhibited unmistakable
+marks of dissipation, nor did the huge breast
+pin and other cheap finery which he wore
+conceal the fact of his intense vulgarity.  His eyes
+were black and twinkling, his complexion very
+dark, and his air that of a foreigner.  He was,
+in fact, a Frenchman, though his language
+would hardly have betrayed him, unless, as
+sometimes, he chose to interlard his discourse
+with French phrases.
+
+"How are you this morning, my friend?"
+said the newcomer.
+
+"What are you here for?" asked Dawkins, roughly.
+
+"That does not seem to me a very polite way
+of receiving your friends."
+
+"Friends!" retorted Dawkins, scornfully,
+"who authorized you to call yourself my friend?"
+
+"Creditor, then, if it will suit you better, mon ami."
+
+"Hush," said Dawkins, in an alarmed whisper, "he will hear,"
+here he indicated Paul with his finger.
+
+"And why should I care?  I have no secrets
+from the young man."
+
+"Stop, Duval," exclaimed Dawkins, in an angry whisper,
+"Leave the office at once.  Your appearing here
+will injure me."
+
+"But I am not your friend; why should I care?" sneered Duval.
+
+"Listen to reason.  Leave me now, and I will meet you
+when and where you will."
+
+"Come, that sounds better."
+
+"Now go.  I'm afraid Mr. Danforth will be in."
+
+"If he comes, introduce me."
+
+Dawkins would like to have knocked the fellow over.
+
+"Name your place and time, and be quick about it,"
+said he impatiently.
+
+"Eight o'clock this evening, you know where,"
+was the answer.
+
+"Very well.  Good-morning."
+
+"Mind you bring some money."
+
+"Good-morning," returned Dawkins, angrily.
+
+At length, much to his relief, Duval left the
+office.  Dawkins stole a side glance at Paul, to
+see what impression the interview had made
+upon him, but our hero, who had overheard
+some portions of the dialogue, perceiving that
+Dawkins wished it to be private, took as little
+notice of the visitor as possible.  He could not
+help thinking, however, that Duval was a man
+whose acquaintance was likely to be of little
+benefit to his fellow clerk.
+
+Throughout the day Dawkins appeared
+unusually nervous, and made several blunders
+which annoyed Mr. Danforth.  Evidently he
+had something on his mind.  Not to keep the
+reader in suspense, George had fallen among
+bad companions, where he had learned both
+to drink and to gamble.  In this way he had
+made the acquaintance of Duval, an unscrupulous
+sharper, who had contrived to get away all
+his ready money, and persuading him to play
+longer in the hope of making up his losses had
+run him into debt one hundred and fifty dollars. 
+Dawkins gave him an acknowledgment
+of indebtedness to that amount.  This of course
+placed him in Duval's power, since he knew of
+no means of raising such a sum.  He therefore
+kept out of the Frenchman's way, avoiding
+the old haunts where he would have been likely
+to meet him.  Dawkins supposed Duval
+ignorant of the whereabouts of his employer's
+counting-room.  So he had been, but he made
+it his business to ascertain where it was.  He
+had no idea of losing sight of so valuable a prize.
+
+Dawkins would willingly have broken the
+appointment he had made with Duval, but he
+did not dare to do so.  He knew that the man
+was well able to annoy him, and he would not
+on any account have had the affair disclosed
+to his father or Mr. Danforth.
+
+As Trinity clock struck eight, he entered
+a low bar-room in the neighborhood of the docks.
+
+A young man with pale, sandy hair stood
+behind the counter with his sleeves rolled up. 
+He was supplying the wants of a sailor who
+already appeared to have taken more drink than
+was good for him.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Dawkins," said he,
+"you're a stranger."
+
+"Is Duval in?" inquired Dawkins, coldly. 
+His pride revolted at the place and company. 
+He had never been here but once before, having
+met Duval elsewhere.
+
+"He's up in his room.  John show the young
+gentleman up to No. 9.  Won't you have a
+glass of something this evening?"
+
+"No," said Dawkins, abruptly.
+
+The boy preceded him up a dark and dirty
+staircase.
+
+"That's the room, sir," he said.
+
+"Stop a minute," said Dawkins, "he may
+not be in."
+
+He inwardly hoped he might not.  But
+Duval answered his knock by coming to the door
+himself.
+
+"Delighted to see you, mon ami.  John,
+may leave the lamp.  That's all, unless Mr.
+Dawkins wishes to order something."
+
+"I want nothing," said Dawkins.
+
+"They have some capital brandy."
+
+"I am not in the mood for drinking tonight."
+
+"As you please," said the Frenchman,
+disappointed; "be seated."
+
+Dawkins sat down in a wooden rocking-
+chair, minus an arm.
+
+"Well," said Duval, "how much money
+have you brought me?"
+
+"None."
+
+The Frenchman frowned and stroked his
+mustache, fiercely.
+
+"What does all this mean?  Are you going
+to put me off longer?"
+
+"I would pay it if I could," said Dawkins,
+"but I haven't got the money."
+
+"You could get it."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Ask your father."
+
+"My father would rave if he knew that I had
+lost money in such a way."
+
+"But you need not tell him."
+
+"If I ask for money, he will be sure to ask
+what I want it for."
+
+"Tell him you want clothes, or a watch, or
+a hundred things."
+
+Dawkins shook his head; "it won't do," said he.
+"He wouldn't give me a hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Then ask seventy-five, and I will wait a
+month for the rest."
+
+"Look here, Duval, you have no rightful
+claim to this money.  You've got enough out of
+me.  Just tear up the paper."
+
+Duval laughed scornfully, "Aha, Mr.
+Dawkins," he said, "that would be a very pretty
+arrangement FOR YOU.  But I don't see how it
+is going to benefit me.  No, no, I can't afford
+to throw away a hundred and fifty dollars so
+easily.  If I was a rich man like your father
+it would make a difference."
+
+"Then you won't remit the debt," said
+Dawkins, sullenly.
+
+"You would think me a great ninny, if I did."
+
+"Then you may collect it the best way you can."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" demanded
+the Frenchman, his face darkening.
+
+"I mean what I say," said Dawkins, desperately,
+"Gambling debts are not recognizable in law."
+
+"Nothing is said about it's being a gambling debt.
+I have your note."
+
+"Which is worth nothing, since I am a minor."
+
+Duval's face became black with rage.
+
+"Aha, my friend," said he showing his teeth,
+"this is a very nice game to cheat me out of
+my money.  But it won't do, it won't do."
+
+"Why won't it?"
+
+"I shall say a word in your father's ear,
+mon ami, and in the ear of your worthy employer
+whom you were so anxious for me not
+to see, and perhaps that would be worse for
+you than to pay me my money."
+
+Dawkins's brief exultation passed away.
+He saw that he was indeed in the power of an
+unscrupulous man, who was disposed to push his
+advantage to the utmost.
+
+He subsided into a moody silence, which
+Duval watched with satisfaction.
+
+"Well, my friend, what will you do about it?"
+
+"I don't know what I can do."
+
+"You will think of something.  You will find it best,"
+said the Frenchman, in a tone which veiled a threat.
+
+"I will try," said Dawkins, gloomily.
+
+"That is well.  I thought you would listen
+to reason, mon ami.  Now we will have a pleasant
+chat.  Hold, I will order some brandy myself."
+
+"Not for me," said Dawkins, rising from his
+chair, "I must be going."
+
+"Will you not have one little game?" asked
+Duval, coaxingly.
+
+"No, no, I have had enough of that.  Goodnight."
+
+"Then you won't stop.  And when shall I
+have the pleasure of seeing you at my little
+apartment once more?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"If it is any trouble to you to come, I will
+call at your office," said Duval, significantly.
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," said Dawkins,
+hastily; "I will come here a week from today."
+
+"A week is a long time."
+
+"Long or short, I must have it."
+
+"Very well, mon ami.  A week let it be. 
+Good-night.  Mind the stairs as you go down."
+
+Dawkins breathed more freely as he passed
+out into the open air.  He was beginning to
+realize that the way of the transgressor is hard.
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+A TRAP IS LAID FOR PAUL.
+
+
+Three months before, George Dawkins had
+made his first visit to a gambling house.
+At first, he had entered only from curiosity.
+He watched the play with an interest which
+gradually deepened, until he was easily persuaded
+to try his own luck.  The stakes were small,
+but fortune favored him, and he came out some
+dollars richer than he entered.  It would have
+been fortunate for him if he had failed.  As it
+was, his good fortune encouraged him to another
+visit.  This time he was less fortunate,
+but his gains about balanced his losses, so that
+he came out even.  On the next occasion he left
+off with empty pockets.  So it went on until
+at length he fell into the hands of Duval, who
+had no scruple in fleecing him to as great an
+extent as he could be induced to go.
+
+George Dawkins's reflections were not of the
+most cheerful character as, leaving Duval, he
+slowly pursued his way homeward.  He felt
+that he had fallen into the power of an unscrupulous
+villain, who would have no mercy upon
+him.  He execrated his own folly, without
+which all the machination of Duval would
+have been without effect.
+
+The question now, however, was, to raise the
+money.  He knew of no one to whom he could
+apply except his father, nor did he have much
+hope from that quarter.  Still, he would make
+the effort.
+
+Reaching home he found his father seated
+in the library.  He looked up from the evening
+paper as George entered.
+
+"Only half-past nine," he said, with an air
+of sarcasm.  "You spend your evenings out so
+systematically that your early return surprises
+me.  How is it?  Has the theater begun to lose
+its charm!"
+
+There was no great sympathy between father
+and son, and if either felt affection for the
+other, it was never manifested.  Mutual
+recrimination was the rule between them, and
+George would now have made an angry answer
+but that he had a favor to ask, and felt
+it politic to be conciliatory.
+
+"If I had supposed you cared for my society, sir,
+I would have remained at home oftener."
+
+"Umph!" was the only reply elicited from his father.
+
+"However, there was a good reason for my
+not going to the theater to-night."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"I had no money."
+
+"Your explanation is quite satisfactory,"
+said his father, with a slight sneer.
+"I sympathize in your disappointment."
+
+"There is no occasion, sir," said George,
+good humoredly, for him.  "I had no great
+desire to go."
+
+Dawkins took down a book from the library
+and tried to read, but without much success. 
+His thoughts continually recurred to his pecuniary
+embarrassments, and the debt which
+he owed to Duval seemed to hang like a millstone
+around his neck.  How should he approach
+his father on the subject?  In his present
+humor he feared he would have little chance.
+
+As his father laid down the newspaper
+Dawkins said, "Wouldn't you like a game of
+checkers, sir?"
+
+This, as he well knew, was a favorite game
+with his father.
+
+"I don't know but I should," said Mr.
+Dawkins, more graciously than was his wont.
+
+The checker-board was brought, and the two
+commenced playing.  Three games were played
+all of which his father won.  This appeared
+to put him in a good humor, for as the two
+ceased playing, he drew a ten-dollar-bill from
+his pocket-book, and handed to his son, with
+the remark, "There, George, I don't want you
+to be penniless.  You are a little extravagant,
+though, I think.  Your pay from Mr. Danforth
+ought to keep you in spending money."
+
+"Yes, sir, I have been rather extravagant,
+but I am going to reform."
+
+"I am very glad to hear it."
+
+"I wish, sir," said George a moment
+afterwards," that you would allow me to buy my
+own clothes."
+
+"I've no sort of an objection, I am sure. 
+You select them now, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir, but I mean to suggest that you
+should make me an allowance for that purpose,
+--about as much as it costs now,--and give
+me the money to spend where I please."
+
+Mr. Dawkins looked sharply at his son.
+
+"The result would probably be," he said,
+"that the money would be expended in other
+ways, and I should have to pay for the clothes
+twice over."
+
+Dawkins would have indignantly disclaimed
+this, if he had not felt that he was not
+altogether sincere in the request he had made.
+
+"No," continued his father, "I don't like the
+arrangement you propose.  When you need
+clothing you can go to my tailor and order it,
+of course not exceeding reasonable limits."
+
+"But," said Dawkins, desperately, "I don't
+like Bradshaw's style of making clothes.  I
+would prefer trying some other tailor."
+
+"What fault have you to find with Bradshaw? 
+Is he not one of the most fashionable
+tailors in the city?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I suppose so, but----"
+
+"Come, sir, you are growing altogether too
+particular.  All your garments set well, so far
+as I can judge."
+
+"Yes, sir, but one likes a change sometimes,"
+persisted George, a little embarrassed for
+further objections.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Dawkins, after a pause,
+"If you are so strongly bent upon a new tailor,
+select one, and order what you need.  You can
+tell him to send in his bill to me."
+
+"Thank you sir," said his son, by no means
+pleased at the manner in which his request had
+been granted.  He saw that it would in no manner
+promote the plan which he had in view,
+since it would give him no command of the
+ready money.  It is hardly necessary to say
+that his alleged dissatisfaction with his father's
+tailor had all been trumped up for the occasion,
+and would never have been thought of
+but for the present emergency.
+
+"What shall I do!" thought Dawkins, in
+perplexity, as he slowly undressed himself and
+retired to bed.
+
+The only true course, undoubtedly, was to
+confess all to his father, to incur the storm of
+reproaches which would have followed as the
+just penalty of his transgression, and then the
+haunting fear of discovery would have been
+once and forever removed.  But Dawkins was
+not brave enough for this.  He thought only of
+escaping from his present difficulty without
+his father's knowledge.
+
+He rose the next morning with the burden
+of care still weighing upon him.  In the
+evening the thought occurred to him that he might
+retrieve his losses where he had incurred them,
+and again he bent his steps to the gambling
+house.  He risked five dollars, being one-half
+of what he had.  This was lost.  Desperately
+he hazarded the remaining five dollars, and
+lost again.
+
+With a muttered oath he sprang to his feet,
+and left the brilliant room, more gloomy and
+discouraged than ever.  He was as badly off
+as before, and penniless beside.  He would
+have finished the evening at the theater, but
+his recent loss prevented that.  He lounged
+about the streets till it was time to go to bed,
+and then went home in a very unsatisfactory
+state of mind.
+
+A day or two after, he met on Broadway the
+man whom of all others he would gladly have avoided.
+
+"Aha, my friend, I am glad to meet you,"
+said Duval, for it was he.
+
+Dawkins muttered something unintelligible,
+and would have hurried on, but Duval detained him.
+
+"Why are you in such a hurry, my friend?" he said.
+
+"Business," returned Dawkins, shortly.
+
+"That reminds me of the little business
+affair between us, mon ami.  Have you got any
+money for me?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"Not yet!  It is three days since we saw
+each other.  Could you not do something in
+three days?"
+
+"I told you I required a week," said
+Dawkins, roughly, "Let go my arm.  I tell you I
+am in haste."
+
+"Very well, mon ami," said Duval, slowly
+relinquishing his hold, "take care that you do
+not forget.  There are four days more to the week."
+
+Dawkins hurried on feeling very uncomfortable. 
+He was quite aware that four days hence
+he would be as unprepared to encounter the
+Frenchman as now.  Still, something might happen.
+
+Something, unfortunately, did happen.
+
+The next day Mr. Danforth was counting
+a roll of bills which had been just paid in,
+when he was unexpectedly called out of the
+counting-room.  He unguardedly left the bills
+upon his own desk.  Dawkins saw them lying
+there.  The thought flashed upon him, "There
+lies what will relieve me from all my embarrassment."
+
+Allowing himself scarcely a minute to think,
+he took from the roll four fifty dollar notes,
+thrust one into the pocket of Paul's overcoat,
+which hung up in the office, drew off his right
+boot and slipped the other three into the bottom
+of it, and put it on again.  He then nervously
+resumed his place at his desk.  A moment
+afterwards, Paul, who had been to the
+post-office, entered with letters which he
+carried into the inner office and deposited on Mr.
+Danforth's desk.  He observed the roll of bills,
+and thought his employer careless in leaving
+so much money exposed, but said nothing on
+the subject to Dawkins, between whom and
+himself there was little communication.
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+CONVICTED OF THEFT.
+
+
+Half an hour later Mr. Danforth returned.
+
+"Has any one been here?" he asked as he
+passed through the outer office.
+
+"No, sir," said Dawkins, with outward
+composure though his heart was beating rapidly.
+
+While apparently intent upon his writing he
+listened attentively to what might be going on
+in the next room.  One,--two,--three minutes
+passed.  Mr. Danforth again showed himself.
+
+"Did you say that no one has been here?"
+he demanded, abruptly.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Have either of you been into my office since
+I have been out?"
+
+"I have not, sir," said Dawkins.
+
+"I went in to carry your letters," said Paul.
+
+"Did you see a roll of bills lying on my desk?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Paul, a little surprised at
+the question.
+
+"I have just counted it over, and find but six
+hundred dollars instead of eight hundred.  Can
+you account for the discrepancy?"
+
+Mr. Danforth looked keenly at the two boys. 
+Dawkins, who had schooled himself to the ordeal,
+maintained his outward calmness.  Paul,
+beginning to perceive that his honesty was
+called in question, flushed.
+
+"No, sir," said the boys simultaneously.
+
+"It can hardly be possible, that Mr. Thompson,
+who is a very careful man, should have made such
+a mistake in paying me," resumed Mr. Danforth.
+
+"As we have been the only persons here,"
+said Dawkins, "the only way to vindicate ourselves
+from suspicion is, to submit to a search."
+
+"Yes, sir," said Paul promptly.
+
+Both boys turned their pockets inside out,
+but the missing money was not found.
+
+"There is my overcoat, sir," said Dawkins,
+"will you be kind enough to search it for yourself?"
+
+Next, of course, Paul's overcoat was searched.
+
+What was our hero's dismay when from one
+of the pockets Mr. Danforth produced a fifty
+dollar bill.
+
+"Is it possible?" he exclaimed in as much
+grief as surprise, "Unhappy boy, how came
+you by this money in your pocket?"
+
+"I don't know, sir," returned Paul, his cheek
+alternately flushing and growing pale.
+
+"I wish I could believe you," said Mr. Danforth;
+"where have you put the other bills?  Produce them,
+and I may overlook this first offense."
+
+"Indeed, sir," said Paul, in great distress,
+"I have not the slightest knowledge of how
+this bill came into my pocket.  I hope you will
+believe me, sir."
+
+"How can I?  The money evidently did not
+go into your pocket without hands."
+
+A sudden thought came to Paul.  "Dawkins,"
+said he, "did you put that money into my pocket?"
+
+"What do you mean, sir?" returned Dawkins,
+haughtily.  "Is it your intention to insult me?"
+
+Dawkins could not prevent his face from flushing
+as he spoke, but this might easily be referred
+to a natural resentment of the imputation cast upon him.
+
+"Paul," said his employer, coldly, "you will
+not help your own cause by seeking to involve
+another.  After what has happened you can
+hardly expect me to retain you in my employment. 
+I will not make public your disgrace,
+nor will I inquire farther for the remainder
+of the money for which you have been willing
+to barter your integrity.  I will pay your wages
+up to the end of this week, and----"
+
+"Mr. Danforth," said Paul, manfully,
+though the tears almost choked his utterance,
+"I am sorry that you have no better opinion
+of me.  I do not want the balance of my wages.
+If I have taken so large a sum which did not
+belong to me, I have no claim to them. 
+Good-morning, sir.  Sometime I hope you will
+think better of me."
+
+Paul put on his coat, and taking his cap
+from the nail on which it hung, bowed respectfully
+to his employer and left the office.
+
+Mr. Danforth looked after him, and seemed
+perplexed.  Could Paul be guilty after all?
+
+"I never could have suspected him if I had
+not this evidence in my hand," said Mr. Danforth,
+to himself, fixing his eyes upon the bill
+which he had drawn from Paul's overcoat.
+
+"Dawkins, did you observe whether Paul
+remained long in the office?" he asked,
+
+"Longer than sufficient to lay the letters
+on the desk?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I think he did."
+
+"Did you notice whether he went to his
+overcoat after coming out?"
+
+"Yes, sir, he did," said Dawkins, anxious to
+fix in Mr. Danforth's mind the impression of
+Paul's guilt.
+
+"Then I am afraid it is true," said his
+employer sadly.  "And yet, what a fine, manly
+boy he is too.  But it is a terrible fault."
+
+Mr. Danforth was essentially a kind-hearted
+man, and he cared much more for Paul's dereliction
+from honesty than for the loss of the
+money.  Going home early to dinner, he
+communicated to his wife the unpleasant
+discovery which he had made respecting Paul.
+
+Now, from the first, Paul had been a great
+favorite with Mrs. Danforth, and she scouted
+at the idea of his dishonesty.
+
+"Depend upon it, Mr. Danforth," she said
+decisively, "you have done the boy an injustice. 
+I have some skill in reading faces, and I
+tell you that a boy with Paul Prescott's open,
+frank expression is incapable of such a crime."
+
+"So I should have said, my dear, but we
+men learn to be less trustful than you ladies,
+who stay at home and take rose-colored views
+of life.  Unfortunately, we see too much of the
+dark side of human nature."
+
+"So that you conclude all to be dark."
+
+"Not so bad as that."
+
+"Tell me all the circumstances, and perhaps
+a woman's wit may help you."
+
+Mr. Danforth communicated all the details,
+with which the reader is already familiar.
+
+"What sort of a boy is this Dawkins?"
+she asked, "Do you like him?"
+
+"Not particularly.  He does his duties passably well.
+I took him into my counting-room to oblige his father."
+
+"Perhaps he is the thief."
+
+"To tell the truth I would sooner have suspected him."
+
+"Has he cleared himself from suspicion?"
+
+"He was the first to suggest a search."
+
+"Precisely the thing he would have done,
+if he had placed the bill in Paul's pocket.
+Of course he would know that the search must
+result favorably for him."
+
+"There is something in that."
+
+"Besides, what could have been more foolish,
+if Paul wished to hide the money, than to
+multiply his chances of detection by hiding it
+in two different places, especially where one
+was so obvious as to afford no concealment at all."
+
+"Admitting this to be true, how am I to
+arrive at the proof of Paul's innocence?"
+
+"My own opinion is, that George Dawkins
+has the greater part of the money stolen.
+Probably he has taken it for some particular purpose. 
+What it is, you may learn, perhaps, by watching him."
+
+"I will be guided by your suggestion. 
+Nothing would afford me greater pleasure than
+to find that I have been mistaken in assuming
+Paul's guilt, though on evidence that seemed convincing."
+
+This conversation took place at the dinner-
+table.  Mr. Danforth understood that no time
+was to be lost if he expected to gain any
+information from the movements of his clerk.
+
+George Dawkins had ventured upon a bold act,
+but he had been apparently favored by fortune,
+and had succeeded.  That he should have
+committed this crime without compunction
+could hardly be expected.  His uneasiness,
+however, sprang chiefly from the fear that
+in some way he might yet be detected.
+He resolved to get rid of the money which he
+had obtained dishonestly, and obtain back from Duval the
+acknowledgment of indebtedness which he had given him.
+
+You will perhaps ask whether the wrong which
+he had done Paul affected him with uneasiness.
+On the contrary, it gratified the dislike which
+from the first he had cherished towards our hero.
+
+"I am well rid of him, at all events," he muttered
+to himself, "that is worth risking some thing for."
+
+When office hours were over Dawkins gladly
+threw down his pen, and left the counting-room.
+
+He bent his steps rapidly towards the locality
+where he had before met Duval.  He had decided
+to wait some time before meeting that worthy.
+He had to wait till another day, when as he was
+emerging from the tavern he encountered
+the Frenchman on the threshold.
+
+"Aha, my good friend," said Duval, offering his hand,
+which Dawkins did not appear to see, "I am very glad
+to see you.  Will you come in?"
+
+"No, I have not time," said Dawkins, shortly.
+
+"Have you brought me my money?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Aha, that is well.  I was just about what
+you call cleaned out."
+
+"Have you my note with you?"
+
+Duval fumbled in his pocket-book, and
+finally produced the desired document.
+
+"Give it to me."
+
+"I must have the money first," said the
+Frenchman, shrewdly.
+
+"Take it," said Dawkins contemptuously.
+"Do you judge me by yourself?"
+
+He tore the note which he received into small pieces,
+and left Duval without another word.
+
+Sheltered by the darkness, Mr. Danforth,
+who had tracked the steps of Dawkins, had
+been an unseen witness of this whole transaction.
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+RIGHT TRIUMPHANT.
+
+
+George Dawkins resumed his duties the
+next morning as usual.  Notwithstanding the
+crime he had committed to screen himself from
+the consequences of a lighter fault, he felt
+immeasurably relieved at the thought that he had
+shaken himself free from the clutches of Duval. 
+His satisfaction was heightened by the disgrace
+and summary dismissal of Paul, whom he had never liked.
+He decided to ask the place for a cousin of his own,
+whose society would be more agreeable to him than
+that of his late associate.
+
+"Good-morning, sir," he said, as Mr. Danforth entered.
+
+"Good-morning," returned his employer, coldly.
+
+"Have you selected any one in Prescott's place, yet, sir?"
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because I have a cousin, Malcolm Harcourt,
+who would be glad to take it."
+
+"Indeed!" said Mr. Danforth, whose manner
+somewhat puzzled Dawkins.
+
+"I should enjoy having him with me,"
+continued Dawkins.
+
+"Did you like Prescott?"
+
+"No, sir," said Dawkins, promptly, "I didn't
+want to say so before, but now, since he's
+turned out so badly, I don't mind saying
+that I never thought much of him."
+
+"On the contrary," said Mr. Danforth, "I
+liked him from the first.  Perhaps we are
+wrong in thinking that he took the money."
+
+"I should think there could be no doubt of it,"
+said Dawkins, not liking the sympathy and returning
+good feeling for Paul which his employer manifested.
+
+"I don't agree with you," said Mr. Danforth, coldly.
+"I have decided to reinstate Paul in his former place."
+
+"Then, if any more money is missing, you will know
+where it has gone," said Dawkins, hastily.
+
+"I shall."
+
+"Then there is no chance for my cousin?"
+
+"I am expecting to have a vacancy."
+
+Dawkins looked up in surprise.
+
+"I shall require some one to fill YOUR place,"
+said Mr. Danforth, significantly.
+
+"Sir!" exclaimed Dawkins, in astonishment and dismay.
+
+His employer bent a searching glance upon
+him as he asked, sternly, "where did you obtain
+the money which you paid away last evening?"
+
+"I--don't--understand--you, sir," gasped
+Dawkins, who understood only too well.
+
+"You met a man at the door of a low tavern
+in--Street, last evening, to whom you paid
+one hundred and fifty dollars, precisely the
+sum which I lost yesterday."
+
+"Who has been slandering me, sir?" asked
+Dawkins, very pale.
+
+"An eye-witness of the meeting, who heard
+the conversation between you.  If you want
+more satisfactory proof, here it is."
+
+Mr. Danforth took from his pocket-book the
+torn fragments of the note which Dawkins had
+given to Duval.
+
+"Here is an obligation to pay a certain
+Duval the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars. 
+It bears your signature.  How you could have
+incurred such a debt to him you best know."
+
+Dawkins maintained a sullen silence.
+
+"I suppose you wish me to leave your employment,"
+he said at length.
+
+"You are right.  Hold," he added, as Dawkins
+was about leaving the room, "a word more.
+It is only just that you should make a
+restitution of the sum which you have taken. 
+If you belonged to a poor family and there
+were extenuating circumstances, I might
+forego my claim.  But your father is abundantly
+able to make good the loss, and I shall
+require you to lay the matter before him
+without loss of time.  In consideration
+of your youth, I shall not bring the matter before
+the public tribunals, as I have a right to do."
+
+Dawkins turned pale at this allusion, and
+muttering some words to the effect that he
+would do what he could, left the counting-room.
+
+This threat proved not to be without its effect.
+The next day he came to Mr. Danforth and brought
+the sum for which he had become responsible.
+He had represented to his father that he had
+had his pocket picked of this sum belonging
+to Mr. Danforth, and in that manner obtained
+an equal amount to replace it.  It was some time
+before Mr. Dawkins learned the truth.  Then came
+a storm of reproaches in which all the bitterness
+of his father's nature was fully exhibited.
+There had never been much love between father and son.
+Henceforth there was open hatred.
+
+We must return to Paul, whom we left in much trouble.
+
+It was a sad walk which he took homeward
+on the morning of his dismissal.
+
+"What brings you home so early?" asked Mrs. Cameron,
+looking up from her baking, as Paul entered.
+
+Paul tried to explain, but tears came to his eyes,
+and sobs choked his utterance.
+
+"Are you sick, Paul?" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, in alarm.
+
+"No, Aunt Hester."
+
+"Then what is the matter?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"I have lost my place."
+
+"Poor boy!  I am very sorry to hear it.
+But it might have been worse."
+
+"No, not very well, Aunt Hester, for Mr. Danforth
+thinks I have taken some of his money."
+
+"He is very unjust!" exclaimed Aunt Hester,
+indignantly, "he ought to have known better
+than to think you would steal."
+
+"Why, no," said Paul, candidly, "I must
+confess the evidence was against me, and he
+doesn't know me as well as you do, Aunt Hester."
+
+"Tell me all about it, Paul."
+
+Aunt Hester sat down and listened
+attentively to our hero's story.
+
+"How do you account for the money being
+found in your pocket?" she asked at length.
+
+"I think it must have been put there by
+some one else."
+
+"Have you any suspicions?"
+
+"Yes," said Paul, a little reluctantly,
+"but I don't know whether I ought to have.
+I may be wronging an innocent person."
+
+"At any rate it won't do any harm to tell me."
+
+"You've heard me speak of George Dawkins?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I can't help thinking that he put the fifty
+dollars into my pocket, and took the rest himself."
+
+"How very wicked he must be!" exclaimed
+Mrs. Cameron, indignantly.
+
+"Don't judge him too hastily; Aunt Hester,
+he may not be guilty, and I know from my
+own experience how hard it is to be accused
+when you are innocent."
+
+Soon after the sexton came in, and Paul of
+course, told his story over again.
+
+"Never mind, Paul," said Uncle Hugh, cheerily.
+"You know your own innocence; that is the main thing.
+It's a great thing to have a clear conscience."
+
+"But I liked Mr. Danforth and I think he liked me.
+It's hard to feel that he and Mrs. Danforth
+will both think me guilty, especially after
+the kindness which I have experienced from them."
+
+"We all have our crosses, my boy,--some
+light and others heavy.  Yours, I admit is a
+heavy one for a boy to bear.  But when men
+are unjust there is One above who will deal
+justly with us.  You have not forgotten him."
+
+"No, Uncle Hugh," said Paul, reverently.
+
+"Trust in him, Paul, and all will come out
+right at last.  He can prove your innocence,
+and you may be sure he will, in his own good time.
+Only be patient, Paul."
+
+"I will try to be, Uncle Hugh."
+
+The simple, hearty trust in God, which the
+sexton manifested, was not lost upon Paul. 
+Sustained by his own consciousness of innocence,
+and the confidence reposed in him by
+those who knew him best, his mind soon
+regained its cheerful tone.  He felt an inward
+conviction that God would vindicate his innocence.
+
+His vindication came sooner than he anticipated.
+
+The next day as the sexton's family were
+seated at their plain dinner, a knock was heard
+upon the outer door.
+
+"Sit still, Hester," said Mr. Cameron.
+"I will go to the door."
+
+Opening the door he recognized Mr. Danforth,
+who attended the same church.
+
+"Mr. Cameron, I believe," said Mr. Danforth, pleasantly.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"May I come in?  I am here on a little business."
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Danforth.  Excuse my not inviting you before;
+but in my surprise at seeing you, I forgot my politeness."
+
+The sexton led the way into the plain sitting-room.
+
+"I believe Paul Prescott is an inmate of your family."
+
+"Yes, sir.  I am sorry----"
+
+"I know what you would say, sir; but it is needless.
+May I see Paul a moment?"
+
+Paul was surprised at the summons, and still more
+surprised at finding who it was that wished to see him.
+
+He entered the room slowly, uncertain how
+to accost Mr. Danforth.  His employer solved
+the doubt in his mind by advancing cordially,
+and taking his hand.
+
+"Paul," he said pleasantly, "I have come
+here to ask your forgiveness for an injustice,
+and to beg you to resume your place in my
+counting-room."
+
+"Have you found out who took the money, sir?"
+asked Paul, eagerly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Who was it, sir?"
+
+"It was Dawkins."
+
+Mr. Danforth explained how he had become
+acquainted with the real thief.  In conclusion,
+he said, "I shall expect you back to-morrow
+morning, Paul."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+"Dawkins of course leaves my employ.  You
+will take his place, and receive his salary,
+seven dollars a week instead of five.  Have you
+any friend whom you would like to have in
+your own place?"
+
+Paul reflected a moment and finally named a
+schoolmate of his, the son of poor parents,
+whom he knew to be anxiously seeking a situation,
+but without influential friends to help him.
+
+"I will take him on your recommendation,"
+said Mr. Danforth, promptly.  "Can you see
+him this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Paul.
+
+The next day Paul resumed his place in Mr.
+Danforth's counting-room.
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+PAUL REDEEMS HIS PLEDGE.
+
+
+Two years passed, unmarked by any
+incident of importance.  Paul continued in Mr.
+Danforth's employment, giving, if possible,
+increased satisfaction.  He was not only faithful,
+but exhibited a rare aptitude for business,
+which made his services of great value to
+his employer.  From time to time Mr. Danforth
+increased his salary, so that, though only
+nineteen, he was now receiving twelve dollars
+per week, with the prospect of a speedy
+increase.  But with his increasing salary, he did
+not increase his expenses.  He continued as
+economical as ever.  He had not forgotten his
+father's dying injunction.  He remained true
+to the charge which he had taken upon himself,
+that of redeeming his father's memory from
+reproach.  This, at times subjected him to the
+imputation of meanness, but for this he cared
+little.  He would not swerve from the line of
+duty which he had marked out.
+
+One evening as he was walking down Broadway
+with an acquaintance, Edward Hastings,
+who was employed in a counting-room near
+him, they paused before a transparency in
+front of a hall brilliantly lighted.
+
+"The Hutchinsons are going to sing to-night, Paul,"
+said Hastings.  "Did you ever hear them?"
+
+"No; but I have often wished to."
+
+"Then suppose we go in."
+
+"No, I believe not."
+
+"Why not.  Paul?  It seems to me you never go anywhere.
+You ought to amuse yourself now and then."
+
+"Some other time I will,--not now."
+
+"You are not required to be at home in the evening,
+are you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then why not come in now?  It's only twenty-five cents."
+
+"To tell the truth, Ned, I am saving up my
+money for a particular purpose; and until that
+is accomplished, I avoid all unnecessary expense."
+
+"Going to invest in a house in Fifth Avenue?
+When you do, I'll call.  However, never mind the expense.
+I'll pay you in."
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, Ned, but I can't. accept."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because at present I can't afford to return the favor."
+
+"Never mind that."
+
+"But I do mind it.  By-and-by I shall feel more free.
+Good-night, if you are going in."
+
+"Good-night, Paul."
+
+"He's a strange fellow," mused Hastings.
+
+"It's impossible to think him mean, and yet,
+it looks a great deal like it.  He spends nothing
+for dress or amusements.  I do believe that
+I've had three coats since he's been wearing
+that old brown one.  Yet, he always looks neat. 
+I wonder what he's saving up his money for."
+
+Meanwhile Paul went home.
+
+The sexton and his wife looked the same
+as ever.  Paul sometimes fancied that Uncle
+Hugh stooped a little more than he used to do;
+but his life moved on so placidly and evenly,
+that he grew old but slowly.  Aunt Hester was
+the same good, kind, benevolent friend that she
+had always been.  No mother could have been
+more devoted to Paul.  He felt that he had
+much to be grateful for, in his chance meeting
+with this worthy couple.
+
+It was the first of January,--a clear, cold day.
+A pleasant fire burned in the little stove. 
+Mr. Cameron sat at one side, reading the evening
+paper; Mrs. Cameron at the other, knitting
+a stocking for Paul.  A large, comfortable-
+looking cat was dozing tranquilly on the
+hearth-rug.  Paul, who had been seated at the
+table, rose and lighted a candle.
+
+"Where are you going, Paul?" asked Aunt Hester.
+
+"Up-stairs for a moment."
+
+Paul speedily returned, bearing in his hand
+a small blue bank-book, with his name on the cover.
+
+He took out his pencil and figured a few minutes.
+
+"Uncle Hugh," said he, looking up, "when
+I get a hundred dollars more, I shall have
+enough to pay father's debt."
+
+"Principal and interest?"
+
+"Yes, principal and interest; reckoning the
+interest for a year to come."
+
+"I did not suppose you had so much money, Paul.
+You must have been very economical."
+
+"Yes, Uncle Hugh more so than I have wanted to be,
+oftentimes; but whenever I have been tempted to spend
+a cent unnecessarily, I have always called to mind
+my promise made to father on his deathbed,
+and I have denied myself."
+
+"You have done well, Paul.  There are few who would
+have had the resolution to do as you have."
+
+"Oh yes, Uncle Hugh," said Paul, modestly,
+"I think there are a great many.  I begin to
+feel repaid already.  In a few months I shall
+be able to pay up the whole debt."
+
+At this moment a knock was heard at the door.
+Mr. Cameron answered the summons.
+
+"Does Mr. Paul Prescott live here?" inquired a boy.
+
+"Yes.  Do you want to see him?"
+
+"Here is a letter for him.  There is no answer."
+
+The messenger departed, leaving the letter
+in Mr. Cameron's hand.
+
+Somewhat surprised, he returned to the
+sitting-room and handed it to Paul.
+
+Paul opened it hastily, and discovered
+inclosed, a bank-note for one hundred dollars. 
+It was accompanied with a note from his employer,
+stating that it was intended as a New Year's gift,
+but in the hurry of business, he had forgotten
+to give it to him during the day.
+
+Paul's face lighted up with joy.
+
+"Oh, Uncle Hugh!" he exclaimed, almost
+breathless with delight.  "Don't you see that
+this will enable me to pay my debt at once?"
+
+"So it will, Paul.  I wish you joy."
+
+"And my father's memory will be vindicated,"
+said Paul, in a tone of deep satisfaction. 
+"If he could only have lived to see this day!"
+
+A fortnight later, Paul obtained permission
+from his employer to be absent from the office
+for a week.  It was his purpose to visit Cedarville
+and repay 'Squire Conant the debt due him:
+and then, to go across the country to Wrenville,
+thirty miles distant, to see Aunt Lucy Lee.
+First, however, he ordered a new suit of a tailor,
+feeling a desire to appear to the best advantage
+on his return to the scene of his former humiliation.
+I must not omit to say that Paul was now a fine-looking
+young fellow of nineteen, with a frank, manly face,
+that won favor wherever he went.
+
+In due course of time, he arrived at Cedarville,
+and found his way without difficulty to
+the house of 'Squire Conant.
+
+It was a large house, rather imposing in its exterior,
+being quite the finest residence in the village.
+
+Paul went up the walk, and rang the bell.
+
+"Can I see 'Squire Conant?" he asked of
+the servant who answered the bell.
+
+"You'll find him in that room," said the girl,
+pointing to a door on the left hand of the hall.
+
+"As he doesn't know me, perhaps you had
+better go before."
+
+The door was opened, and Paul found himself
+in the presence of his father's creditor. 
+'Squire Conant was looking pale and thin.  He
+was just recovering from a severe sickness.
+
+"I presume you don't recognize me, sir," said Paul.
+
+"Did I ever see you before?"
+
+"Yes, sir; my name is Paul Prescott."
+
+"Not the son of John Prescott?"
+
+"The same, sir.  I believe my father died in your debt."
+
+"Yes.  I lent him five hundred dollars, which he never repaid."
+
+"He tried to do so, sir.  He had saved up a hundred and fifty
+dollars towards it, but sickness came upon him, and he was
+obliged to use it."
+
+'Squire Conant's temper had been subdued
+by the long and dangerous illness through
+which he had passed.  It had made him set a
+smaller value on his earthly possessions,
+from which he might be separated at any moment. 
+When he answered Paul, it was in a manner
+which our hero did not expect.
+
+"Never mind.  I can afford to lose it.  I
+have no doubt he did what he could."
+
+"But I have come to pay it, sir," said Paul.
+
+"You!" exclaimed 'Squire Conant,
+in the greatest astonishment.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Where did you get the money?"
+
+"I earned it, sir."
+
+"But you are very young.  How could you
+have earned so much?"
+
+Paul frankly told the story of his struggles;
+how for years he had practised a pinching economy,
+in order to redeem his father's memory from reproach.
+
+'Squire Conant listened attentively.
+
+"You are a good boy," he said, at length.
+
+"Shall you have anything left after paying this money?"
+
+"No, sir; but I shall soon earn more."
+
+"Still, you ought to have something to begin
+the world with.  You shall pay me half the
+money, and I will cancel the note."
+
+"But, sir,----"
+
+"Not a word.  I am satisfied, and that is enough.
+If I hadn't lent your father the money,
+I might have invested it with the rest, and lost all."
+
+'Squire Conant produced the note from a
+little trunk of papers, and handed it to Paul,
+who paid him the amount which he had stipulated,
+expressing at the same time his gratitude
+for his unexpected generosity.
+
+"Never mind about thanks, my boy," said
+'Squire Conant:  "I am afraid I have loved
+money too well heretofore.  I hope I am not
+too old to turn over a new leaf."
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+HOW PAUL GOES BACK TO WRENVILLE.
+
+
+While 'Squire Conant was speaking, Paul formed
+a sudden resolution.  He remembered that Aunt
+Lucy Lee was a sister of 'Squire Conant.  Perhaps,
+in his present frame of mind, it might be possible
+to induce him to do something for her.
+
+"I believe I am acquainted with a sister of yours,
+'Squire Conant," he commenced.
+
+"Ha!" exclaimed the 'Squire.
+
+"Mrs. Lucy Lee."
+
+"Yes," was the slow reply; "she is my sister.
+Where did you meet her?"
+
+"At the Wrenville Poorhouse."
+
+"How long ago?"
+
+"About six years since."
+
+"Is she there, still?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  Since I have been in New York,
+I have heard from her frequently.  I am going
+from here to visit her.  Have you any message,
+sir?  I am sure she would be glad to hear from you."
+
+"She shall hear from me," said the 'Squire
+in a low voice.  "Sit down, and I will write
+her a letter which, I hope, will not prove unwelcome."
+
+Five minutes afterwards he handed Paul an open letter.
+
+"You may read it," he said, abruptly.
+
+"You have been a better friend to my sister than I.
+You shall witness my late reparation."
+
+The letter was as follows:----
+MY DEAR SISTER:--   CEDARVILLE, JAN 13, 18--.
+
+I hope you will forgive me for my long neglect.
+It is not fitting that while I am possessed of abundant means
+you should longer remain the tenant of an almshouse.
+I send you by the bearer of this note, Paul Prescott,
+who, I understand, is a friend of yours, the sum
+of three hundred dollars.  The same sum will be sent
+you annually.  I hope it will be sufficient to maintain you
+comfortably.  I shall endeavor to call upon you soon,
+and meanwhile remain,   Your affectionate brother
+
+EZEKIEL CONANT.
+
+
+Paul read this letter with grateful joy.  It
+seemed almost to good to be true.  Aunt Lucy
+would be released from the petty tyranny of
+Mrs. Mudge's household, and perhaps--he felt
+almost sure Aunt Hester would be willing to
+receive her as a boarder, thus insuring her a
+peaceful and happy home in her declining years.
+
+"Oh, sir," said he, seizing 'Squire Conant's hand,
+"you cannot tell how happy you have made me."
+
+"It is what I ought to have done before. 
+Here is the money referred to in the letter,--
+three hundred dollars,--mind you don't lose it."
+
+"I will take every care, sir."
+
+"You may tell my sister that I shall be
+happy to have her write me."
+
+"I will, sir."
+
+Paul left 'Squire Conant's house, feeling
+that he had great cause for joy.  The 'Squire's
+refusal to receive more than half the debt,
+left him master of over three hundred dollars. 
+But I am not sure whether he did not rejoice
+even more over the good fortune which had
+come to Aunt Lucy Lee, whose kindness to him,
+in his unfriended boyhood, he would ever hold
+in grateful remembrance.  He enjoyed in
+anticipation the joy which he knew Aunt Lucy
+would feel when the change in her fortunes was
+communicated to her.  He knew also how great
+would be the chagrin of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge,
+when they found that the meek old lady whom
+they hated was about to be rescued from their
+clutches.  On the whole, Paul felt that this was
+the happiest day of his life.  It was a satisfaction
+to feel that the good fortune of his early
+friend was all due to his own intercession.
+
+He was able to take the cars to a point four
+miles distant from Wrenville.  On getting out
+on the platform he inquired whether there was
+a livery stable near by.  He was directed to
+one but a few rods distant.  Entering he asked,
+"Can you let me have a horse and chaise to go
+to Wrenville?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said the groom.
+
+"Let me have the best horse in the stable,"
+said Paul, "and charge me accordingly."
+
+"Yes, sir," said the groom, respectfully,
+judging from Paul's dress and tone that he was
+a young gentleman of fortune.
+
+A spirited animal was brought out, and Paul
+was soon seated in the chaise driving along the
+Wrenville road.  Paul's city friends would
+hardly have recognized their economical
+acquaintance in the well-dressed young man who
+now sat behind a fast horse, putting him
+through his best paces.  It might have been a
+weakness in Paul, but he remembered the manner
+in which he left Wrenville, an unfriended boy,
+compelled to fly from persecution under
+the cover of darkness, and he felt a certain
+pride in showing the Mudges that his circumstances
+were now entirely changed.  It was over this very road
+that he had walked with his little bundle,
+in the early morning, six years before.
+It seemed to him almost like a dream.
+
+At length he reached Wrenville.  Though he
+had not been there for six years, he recognized
+the places that had once been familiar to him. 
+But everything seemed to have dwindled.
+Accustomed to large city warehouses,
+the houses in the village seemed very diminutive.
+Even 'Squire Benjamin Newcome's house, which he
+had once regarded as a stately mansion,
+now looked like a very ordinary dwelling.
+
+As he rode up the main street of the village,
+many eyes were fixed upon him and his carriage,
+but no one thought of recognizing, in the
+well-dressed youth, the boy who had run away
+from the Wrenville Poorhouse.
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+At the very moment that Paul was driving
+through the village street, Mr. Nicholas Mudge
+entered the Poorhouse in high spirits.  Certainly
+ill-fortune must have befallen some one
+to make the good man so exhilarant.
+
+To explain, Mr. Mudge had just been to the
+village store to purchase some groceries.
+One of his parcels was tied up in a stray leaf
+of a recent New York Daily, in which he discovered
+an item which he felt sure would make Aunt
+Lucy unhappy.  He communicated it to Mrs.
+Mudge, who highly approved his design.  She
+called the old lady from the common room.
+
+"Here, Aunt Lucy," she said, "is something
+that will interest you."
+
+Aunt Lucy came in, wondering a little at
+such an unusual mark of attention.
+
+Mrs. Mudge immediately commenced reading
+with malicious emphasis a paragraph concerning
+a certain Paul Prescott, who had been
+arrested for thieving, and sentenced to the
+House of Reformation for a term of months.
+
+"There," said Mrs. Mudge, triumphantly,
+"what do you say to your favorite now? 
+Turned out well, hasn't he?  Didn't I always
+say so?  I always knew that boy was bad at heart,
+and that he'd come to a bad end."
+
+"I don't believe it's the same boy," declared
+Aunt Lucy, who was nevertheless unpleasantly
+affected by the paragraph.  She thought it
+possible that Paul might have yielded to a
+powerful temptation.
+
+"Perhaps you think I've been making it up. 
+If you don't believe it look at the paper for
+yourself," thrusting it into Aunt Lucy's hands. 
+
+"Yes," said the old lady.  "I see that the name
+is the same; but, for all that, there is a
+mistake somewhere.  I do not believe it is
+the same boy."
+
+"You don't?  Just as if there would be
+more than one boy of that name.  There may
+be other Prescotts, but there isn't but one
+Paul Prescott, take my word for it."
+
+"If it is he," said Aunt Lucy, indignantly,
+"is it Christianlike to rejoice over the poor
+boy's misfortune?"
+
+"Misfortune!" retorted Mrs. Mudge with a
+sneer; "you call it a misfortune to steal, then! 
+I call it a crime."
+
+"It's often misfortune that drives people to
+it, though," continued the old lady, looking
+keenly at Mrs. Mudge.  "I have known cases
+where they didn't have that excuse."
+
+Mrs. Mudge colored.
+
+"Go back to your room," said she, sharply;
+"and don't stay here accusing me and Mr.
+Mudge of unchristian conduct.  You're the
+most troublesome pauper we have on our
+hands; and I do wish the town would provide
+for you somewhere else."
+
+"So do I," sighed the old lady to herself,
+though she did not think fit to give audible
+voice to her thoughts.
+
+It was at this moment that Paul halted his
+chaise at the gate, and lightly jumping out,
+fastened his horse to a tree, and walked up
+to the front door.
+
+"Who can it be?" thought Mrs. Mudge, hastily
+adjusting her cap, and taking off her apron.
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure," said Mr. Mudge,
+unsuspiciously.
+
+"I declare!  I look like a fright."
+
+"No worse than usual," said her husband, gallantly.
+
+By this time Paul had knocked.
+
+Good-morning, sir," said Mrs. Mudge, deferentially,
+her respect excited by Paul's dress and handsome chaise.
+
+"Is Mrs. Lee in?" inquired Paul, not caring
+to declare himself, yet, to his old enemy.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Mudge, obsequiously, though not
+overpleased to find that this was Aunt Lucy's
+visitor; "would you like to see her?"
+
+"If you please."
+
+"What can he want of the old lady?" thought Mrs. Mudge,
+as she went to summon her.
+
+"A visitor for me?" asked Aunt Lucy, looking
+at Mrs. Mudge somewhat suspiciously.
+
+"Yes; and as he's come in a carriage, you'd better
+slick up a little; put on a clean cap or something."
+
+Aunt Lucy was soon ready.
+
+She looked wonderingly at Paul, not recognizing him.
+
+"You are not very good at remembering your old friends,"
+said Paul, with a smile.
+
+"What!" exclaimed Aunt Lucy, her face
+lighting up with joy; "are you little Paul?"
+
+"Not very little, now," said our hero, laughing;
+"but I'm the same Paul you used to know."
+
+Mrs. Mudge, who through the half open door
+had heard this revelation, was overwhelmed with
+astonishment and confusion.  She hurried to her husband.
+
+"Wonders will never cease!" she exclaimed,
+holding up both hands.  "If that doesn't turn out
+to be Paul Prescott.  Of course he's up in the world,
+or he wouldn't dress so well, and ride in such
+a handsome carriage."
+
+"You don't say so!" returned Mr. Mudge, who
+looked as if he had heard of a heavy misfortune.
+
+"Yes, I do; I heard him say so with his own lips.
+It's a pity you showed that paragraph to Aunt Lucy,
+this morning."
+
+"That you showed, you mean," retorted her husband.
+
+"No, I don't.  You know it was you that did it."
+
+"Hush; they'll hear."
+
+Meanwhile the two friends were conversing together happily.
+
+"I'm so glad you're doing so well, Paul," said Aunt Lucy.
+"It was a lucky day when you left the Poorhouse behind you."
+
+"Yes, Aunt Lucy, and to-day is a lucky day for you. 
+There's room for two in that chaise, and I'm going
+to take you away with me."
+
+"I should enjoy a ride, Paul.  It's a long time
+since I have taken one."
+
+"You don't understand me.  You're going away
+not to return."
+
+The old lady smiled sadly.
+
+"No, no, Paul.  I can't consent to become a burden
+upon your generosity.  You can't afford it,
+and it will not be right."
+
+"O," said Paul, smiling, "you give me credit for
+too much.  I mean that you shall pay your board."
+
+"But you know I have no money."
+
+"No, I don't.  I don't consider that a lady is penniless,
+who has an income of three hundred dollars a year."
+
+"I don't understand you, Paul."
+
+"Then, perhaps you will understand this," said
+our hero, enjoying the old lady's astonishment.
+
+He drew from his pocket a roll of bills, and passed
+them to Aunt Lucy.
+
+The old lady looked so bewildered, that he lost
+no time in explaining the matter to her.  Then,
+indeed, Aunt Lucy was happy; not only because she
+had become suddenly independent, but, because
+after years of coldness and estrangement, her
+brother had at last become reconciled to her.
+
+"Now, Aunt Lucy," resumed Paul, "I'll tell you
+what my plans are.  You shall get into the chaise
+with me, and go at once to New York.  I think
+Aunt Hester will be willing to receive you as a boarder;
+if not, I will find you a pleasant place near by.
+Will that suit you?"
+
+"It will make me very happy; but I cannot realize it.
+It seems like a dream."
+
+At this moment Mrs. Mudge entered the room, and,
+after a moment's scrutiny, pretended to recognize Paul.
+Her husband followed close behind her.
+
+"Can I believe my eyes?" she exclaimed.
+"Is this indeed Paul Prescott?
+I am very glad to see you back."
+
+"Only a visit, Mrs. Mudge," said Paul, smiling.
+
+"You'll stop to dinner, I hope?"
+
+Paul thought of the soup and dry bread which he
+used to find so uninviting, and said that he should
+not have time to do so.
+
+"We've thought of you often," said Mr. Mudge,
+writhing his harsh features into a smile.  "There's
+scarcely a day that we haven't spoken of you."
+
+"I ought to feel grateful for your remembrance,"
+said Paul, his eyes twinkling with mirth.  "But I
+don't think, Mr. Mudge, you always thought so much of me."
+
+Mr. Mudge coughed in some embarrassment, and not
+thinking of anything in particular to say, said nothing.
+
+"I am going to take from you another of your boarders,"
+said Paul.  "Can you spare Aunt Lucy?"
+
+"For how long?" asked Mrs. Mudge.
+
+"For all the time.  She has just come into
+possession of a little property,--several hundred
+dollars a year,--and I have persuaded her to go to
+New York to board."
+
+"Is this true?" exclaimed Mrs. Mudge in astonishment.
+
+"Yes," said the old lady, "God has been bountiful to me
+when I least expected it."
+
+"Can I be of any service in assisting you to pack up, Mrs.
+Lee?" asked Mrs. Mudge, with new-born politeness.  She felt
+that as a lady of property, Aunt Lucy was entitled to much
+greater respect and deference than before.
+
+"Thank you, Mrs. Mudge," said Paul, answering for her.
+
+"She won't have occasion for anything in this house.
+She will get a supply of new things when she gets to New York.
+
+The old lady looked very happy, and Mrs. Mudge, in spite of
+her outward deference, felt thoroughly provoked at her good fortune.
+
+I will not dwell upon the journey to New York.  Aunt Lucy,
+though somewhat fatigued, bore it much better than she had
+anticipated.  Mr. and Mrs. Cameron entered very heartily into
+Paul's plans, and readily agreed to receive Aunt Lucy as an
+inmate of their happy and united household.  The old lady felt
+it to be a happy and blessed change from the Poorhouse, where
+scanty food and poor accommodations had been made harder
+to bear by the ill temper of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, to a home
+whose atmosphere was peace and kindness.
+
+----
+
+
+And now, dear reader, it behooves us to draw together the
+different threads of our story, and bring all to a satisfactory
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Mudge are no longer in charge of the Wrenville
+Poorhouse.  After Aunt Lucy's departure, Mrs. Mudge became
+so morose and despotic, that her rule became intolerable.
+Loud complaints came to the ears of 'Squire Newcome, Chairman
+of the Overseers of the Poor.  One fine morning he was compelled
+to ride over and give the interesting couple warning to leave
+immediately.  Mr. Mudge undertook the charge of a farm, but
+his habits of intoxication increased upon him to such an extent,
+that he was found dead one winter night, in a snow-drift,
+between his own house and the tavern.  Mrs. Mudge was not
+extravagant in her expressions of grief, not having a very strong
+affection for her husband.  At last accounts, she was keeping
+a boarding-house in a manufacturing town.  Some time since,
+her boarders held an indignation meeting, and threatened to
+leave in a body unless she improved her fare,--a course to
+which she was obliged to submit.
+
+George Dawkins, unable to obtain a recommendation from
+Mr. Danforth, did not succeed in securing another place in
+New York.  He finally prevailed upon his father to advance him
+a sum of money, with which he went to California.  Let us hope
+that he may "turn over a new leaf" there, and establish a
+better reputation than he did in New York.
+
+Mr. Stubbs is still in the tin business.  He is as happy as the
+day is long, and so are his wife and children.  Once a year he
+comes to New York and pays Paul a visit.  This supplies him
+with something to talk about for the rest of the year.  He is
+frugal in his expenses, and is able to lay up a couple of hundred
+dollars every year, which he confides to Paul, in whose financial
+skill he has the utmost confidence.
+
+I am sure my boy readers would not forgive me for omitting
+to tell them something more about Ben Newcome.  Although
+his mirthful spirit sometimes led him into mischief, he was
+good-hearted, and I have known him do many an act of kindness,
+even at considerable trouble to himself.  It will be
+remembered that in consequence of his night adventure, during
+which he personated a ghost, much to the terror of Mr. Mudge
+his father determined to send him to a military school.  This
+proved to be a wise arrangement.  The discipline was such as
+Ben needed, and he soon distinguished himself by his excellence
+in the military drill.  Soon after he graduated, the Rebellion
+broke out, and Ben was at once, in spite of his youth, elected
+Captain of the Wrenville company.  At the battle of Antiatam
+he acquitted himself with so much credit that he was promoted
+to a major.  He was again promoted, and when Richmond was
+evacuated, he was one of the first officers to enter the streets
+of the Rebel capital, a colonel in command of his regiment.  I
+have heard on high authority, that he is considered one of the
+best officers in the service.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Cameron are still living.  They are happy in
+the success and increasing prosperity of Paul, whom they regard
+as a son.  Between them and Aunt Lucy he would stand
+a very fair chance of being spoiled, if his own good sense and
+good judgment were not sufficient to save him from such a
+misfortune. Paul is now admitted to a small interest in the
+firm, which entitles him to a share in the profits.  As Danforth
+and Co. have done a very extensive business of late years, this
+interest brings him in a very handsome income.  There is only
+one cause of difference between him and the sexton.  He insists
+that Uncle Hugh, who is getting infirm, should resign his office,
+as he is abundantly able to support the whole family.  But the
+good sexton loves his duties, and will continue to discharge
+them as long as he is able.
+
+And now we must bid farewell to Paul.  He has battled
+bravely with the difficulties and discouragements that beset
+him in early life, he has been faithful to the charge which he
+voluntarily assumed, and his father's memory is free from
+reproach.  He often wishes that his father could have lived to
+witness his prosperity? but God has decreed it otherwise. 
+Happy in the love of friends, and in the enjoyment of all that
+can make life desirable, so far as external circumstances have
+that power, let us all wish him God speed!
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of Paul Prescott's Charge
+
+
+
+
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