as before.

"If you wanted a rose and got only a butter-cup, should you think
yourself fortunate?" asked Mr. Newt.

"Why, yes, Sir. A man can't expect to have every thing precisely as he
wants it," replied the boy.

"My young friend, you are of opinion that a half loaf is better than no
bread. True--so am I. But never make the mistake of supposing a half to
be the whole. Content is a good thing. When the man sent for cake, and
said, 'John, if you can't get cake, get smelts,' he did wisely. But
smelts are not cake for all that. What's your name?" asked Mr. Newt,
abruptly.

"Gabriel Bennet," replied the boy.

"Bennet--Bennet--what Bennet?"

"I don't know, Sir."

Lawrence Newt was apparently satisfied with this answer. He only said:

"Well, my son, you do wisely to say at once you don't know, instead of
going back to somebody a few centuries ago, of whose father you have to
make the same answer. The Newts, however, you must be aware, are a very
old family." The merchant smiled. "They came into England with the
Normans; but who they came into Normandy with I don't know. Do you?"

Gabriel laughed, with a pleasant feeling of confidence in his companion.

"Have you been at school in the city?" asked the merchant.

Gabriel told him that he had been at Mr. Gray's.

"Oh ho! then you know my nephew Abel?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Gabriel, coloring.

"Abel is a smart boy," said Mr. Newt.

Gabriel made no reply.

"Do you like Abel?"

Gabriel paused a moment; then said,

"No, Sir."

The merchant looked at the boy for a few moments.

"Who did you like at school?"

"Oh, I liked Jim Greenidge and Little Malacca best,", replied Gabriel, as
if the whole world must be familiar with those names.

At the mention of the latter Lawrence Newt looked interested, and, after
talking a little more, said,

"Gabriel, I take you into my office."

He called Mr. Tray.

"Thomas Tray, this is the youngest clerk, Gabriel Bennet. Gabriel, this
is the head of the outer office, Mr. Thomas Tray. Thomas, ask Venables to
step this way."

That young man appeared immediately.

"Mr. Venables, you are promoted. You have seven hundred dollars a year,
and are no longer youngest clerk. Gabriel Bennet, this is Frank Venables.
Be friends. Now go to work."

There was a general bowing, and Thomas Tray and the two young men
retired.

As they went out Mr. Newt opened a letter which had been brought in from
the Post during the interview.