t if he entertained the notion, he ought to prepare her by education
for the good-fortune that awaited her. But he neither perceived this
necessity, nor, if he had, would he have liked to lose the services of a
person he had been so long accustomed to.

At length, one day a new idea struck him. He had been reading the story
of his namesake, Benjamin, in the Old Testament, and the question
occurred to him, how many amongst his purchasers of the poorer
class--and all who came to his shop personally were of that class--would
bring back a piece of money they might find amongst their meal, and he
thought he should like to try a few of them that were his regular
customers. The experiment would amuse his mind, and the money he might
lose by it he did not care for. So he began with shillings, slipping one
in amongst the flour before he handed it to the purchaser. But the
shillings never came back--perhaps people did not think so small a sum
worth returning; so he went on to half-crowns and crowns, and now and
then, in very particular cases, he even ventured a guinea; but it was
always with the same luck, and the longer he tried, the more he
distrusted there being any honesty in the world, and the more disposed
he felt to leave all his money to Leah Leet, who had lived with him so
long, and to his belief, had never wronged him of a penny.

* * * * *

'What's this you have put into the gruel, Mary?' said a pale,
sickly-looking man one evening, taking something out of his mouth, which
he held towards the feeble gleams emitted by a farthing rush-light
standing on the mantel-piece.

'What is it, father?' inquired a young girl, approaching him. 'Isn't the
gruel good?'

'It's good enough,' replied the man; 'but here's something in it: it's a
shilling, I believe.'

'It's a guinea, I declare!' exclaimed the girl, as she took the coin
from him and examined it nearer the light.

'A guinea!' repeated the man; 'well, that's the first bit of luck I've
had these seven years or more. It never could have come when we wanted
it worse. Shew it us here, Mary.'

'But it's not ours, father,' said Mary. 'I paid away the last shilling
we had for the meal, and here's the change.'

'God has sent it us, girl! He saw our distress, and he sent it us in His
mercy!' said the man, grasping the piece of gold with his thin, bony
fingers.

'It must be Mr Benjamin's,' returned she. 'He must have dropped it into
the meal