"Pay myself?" says the unsophisticated youth.

"Musn't take 'the run' of the till!"

"Run of the till?"

"No knocking down, sir!"

"O, bless you!" quoth the verdant youth, "I am as good-natured as a
lamb; I never knocked any body down in all my life."

"Ha! ha!" ejaculated the landlord; "he _is_ green, so I won't teach him
what he don't know. What's your name?"

"Absalom Hart, sir."

"Good Christian-like name, and I've no doubt we shall agree together,
for a long time; so go to work."

Absalom "pitched in," a whole year passed, Absalom and the landlord got
along slick as a whistle. Another year, two, three, four; never was
there a more attentive, diligent and industrious bar-keeper behind a
marble slab, or armed with a toddy stick. He was the _ne plus ultra_ of
bar-keepers, a perfect paragon of toddy mixers. But one day, somehow or
other, the landlord found himself in custody of the sheriff, bag and
baggage. Business had not fallen off, every thing seemed properly
managed, but, somehow or other, the landlord broke, failed, caved in,
and the sheriff sold him out.

Who bought the concern? Absalom Hart--nobody else. Some of the people
were astonished.

"Well, who would have thought it?"

"Hurrah for Absalom!"

"By George, that was quick work!" were the remarks of the outsiders,
when the fact of the sale and purchase became known. The landlord felt
quite humbled, he was out of house and home, but he had a friend,
surely.

"Mr. Hart, things work queer in this world, sometimes."

"Think so?" quietly responded the new landlord.

"I do, indeed; yesterday I was up, and to-day I am down."

"Very true, sir."

"Yesterday you were down, to-day you are up."

"Very true; time works wonders, Mr. Smith."

"It does indeed, sir. Now, Mr. Hart, I am out of employment--got my
family to support; I always trusted I treated you like a man, didn't I?"

"A--ye-e-s, you did, I believe."

"Now, I want you to employ me; I have a number of friends who of course
will patronize our house while I am in it, and you can afford me a fair
sort of a living to help you."

"Well, Mr. Smith," said Mr. Hart, "I suppose I shall have to hire
somebody, and as I don't believe in taking a raw hand from the country,
I will take one who understands all about it. I'll engage you; so go to
work."

"Thank you, Mr. Hart." And so the master became the man, and the man the
master.

"Poor Smith, he's down!" cries one old habitue of the 'Gene