have to make bows to old Van B. Don't we want accommodations? Look here,
Abel; if Jacob were not worth a million of dollars, he would be of less
consequence than the old fellow who sells apples at the corner of his
bank. But as it is, we all agree that he is a shrewd, sensible old
fellow; rough in some of his ways--full of little prejudices--rather
sharp; and as for Mrs. Tom Witchet, why, if girls will run away, and all
that sort of thing, they must take the consequences, you know. Of course
they must. Where should we be if every rich merchant's daughters were at
the mercy of his clerks? I'm sorry for all this. It's sad, you know. It's
positively melancholy. It troubles me. Ah, yes! where was I? Oh, I was
saying that money is the respectable thing. And mark, Abel, if this were
the Millennium, things would be very different. But it isn't the
Millennium. It's give one and take two, if you can get it. That's what it
is here; and let him who wants to, kick against the pricks."

Abel hung his legs over the arms of the office-chairs in the
counting-room, and listened gravely.

"I don't suppose, Sir, that 'tis money _as_ money that is worth having.
It is only money as the representative of intelligence and refinement, of
books, pictures, society--as a vast influence and means of charity; is it
not, Sir?"

Upon which Mr. Abel Newt blew a prodigious cloud of smoke.

Mr. Boniface Newt responded, "Oh fiddle! that's all very fine. But my
answer to that is Jacob Van Boozenberg."

"Bless my soul! here he comes. Abel put your legs down! throw that cigar
away!"

The great man came in. His clothes were snuffy and baggy--so was his
face.

"Good-mornin', Mr. Newt. Beautiful mornin'. I sez to ma this mornin', ma,
sez I, I should like to go to the country to-day, sez I. Go 'long; pa!
sez she. Werry well, sez I, I'll go 'long if you'll go too. Ma she
laughed; she know'd I wasn't in earnest. She know'd 'twasn't only a
joke."

Mr. Van Boozenberg drew out a large red bandana handkerchief, and blew
his nose as if it had been a trumpet sounding a charge.

Messrs. Newt & Son smiled sympathetically. The junior partner observed,
cheerfully,

"Yes, Sir."

The millionaire stared at the young man.

"Ma's going to Saratogy," remarked Mr. Van Boozenberg. "She said she
wanted to go. Werry well, sez I, ma, go."

Messrs. Newt & Son smiled deferentially, and hoped Mrs. Van B. would
enjoy herself.

"No, I ain't no fear of that," replied the