ent of the landlord.

"Surely you told me a different story last evening," he said.

"Last evening and this morning are different times. Then I could not pay
you. Now, luckily, I am able. If you will accompany me to the bank, I
will draw some money and pay your bill."

"My dear sir, I am not at all in haste for the money," said the
landlord, with a return of his affability. "Any time within a week will
do. I hope, by the way, you will continue to occupy this house."

"I don't feel like paying twenty-five dollars a quarter."

"You shall have it for the same rent you have been paying."

"But you said there was another family who had offered you an advanced
rent. I shouldn't like to interfere with them. Besides, I have already
hired a house of Mr. Harrison in the next block."

Mr. Colman was silenced. He regretted too late the hasty course which
had lost him a good tenant. The family referred to had no existence;
and, it may be remarked, the house remained vacant for several months,
when he was glad to rent it at the old price.

CHAPTER VIII

A LUCKY RESCUE

The opportune arrival of the child inaugurated a season of comparative
prosperity in the home of Timothy Harding. To persons accustomed to live
in their frugal way, five hundred dollars seemed a fortune. Nor, as
might have happened in some cases, did this unexpected windfall tempt
the cooper or his wife to enter upon a more extravagant mode of living.

"Let us save something against a rainy day," said Mrs. Harding.

"We can if I get work soon," answered her husband. "This little one will
add but little to our expenses, and there is no reason why we shouldn't
save up at least half of it."

"So I think, Timothy. The child's food will not amount to a dollar a
week."

"There's no tellin' when you will get work, Timothy," said Rachel, in
her usual cheerful way. "It isn't well to crow before you are out of the
woods."

"Very true, Rachel. It isn't your failing to look too much at the sunny
side of the picture."

"I'm ready to look at it when I can see it anywhere," answered his
sister, in the same enlivening way.

"Don't you see it in the unexpected good fortune which came with this
child?" asked Timothy.

"I've no doubt you think it very fortunate now," said Rachel, gloomily;
"but a young child's a great deal of trouble."

"Do you speak from experience, Aunt Rachel?" asked Jack.

"Yes," said his aunt, slowly. "If all babies were as cross and