, my boy. We, hackneyed,
hopeless old reprobates, need just such preachers as the missionary's
famous seminary is going to make out of you; and I invited you here to
say that you can depend on me for two hundred dollars in gold to start
with, and as much more each year, till you graduate, as the missionary
says you need. When old Cowles begins to do a thing, mind you, he
never does it by halves."

"But," said Tom, choking with joy and wonder, "how shall I pay you?"

"Pay! pay!" roared the grocer, his eyes shooting flame; then, suddenly
waxing tender, the tears extinguishing the fire-flashes, "if you will
pray for a poor old rebel like me, it is all the pay I want."

Then, going into the entry, he called,--

"Johnson! Johnson!"

"Here, sir," said a voice; and the dapper little tailor, who rented a
window in the store, made his appearance.

"Measure this young man for a suit of clothes," said the grocer; "and
mind and give him a genteel fit, that will do for him in the best
circles east."

CHAPTER XXIII.

AN ENCHANTING SCENE.--THE PARTING.

"The hearth is swept, the fire is made,
The kettle sings for tea."

It was the clear, honest voice of Deacon Palmer that fell on Tom's
ear, and which he now heard for the hundredth time. Year in and out,
at morning and night, the good man had sung this, his favorite
song,--bachelor though he was, with silver-streaked hair,--as if his
heart yearned for the wifely waiting, and the sweet home-joys it
pictured. Why were they not his? Do all have their longings for
something brighter and better than the present brings? something for
which they must wait and wait, and perchance never attain?

Tom knocked modestly at the storekeeper's door. A moment, and the
money-lender opened it, saying, heartily,--

"Walk in; walk in!"

"No, I thank you," answered Tom; "I called to say, that as I am to
start on Monday to begin study at the east,"--and the young man's
tones grew tremulous,--"General and Mrs. McElroy and mother are to be
at the missionary's to-day, and they desire the pleasure of your
company at dinner."

"Well, well, young man, you _have_ brought a message--haven't you?"
exclaimed the grocer, fidgeting about. "A pretty mixed-up company that
would be--wouldn't it? Old Cowles sitting down to table with a
minister of the gospel, and a student for that sacred calling, and
such like folks. No, no; that wouldn't be consistent. Tell them t