in intruding upon your valuable time and the many important cares
which must occupy the attention of a gentleman so universally known,
honored, and loved in the community as you are, Sir."

"Did you come here to compliment me, Sir?" asked Mr. Burt. "You've got
some kind of subscription paper, I suppose." The old gentleman began to
warm up as he thought of it. "But I can't give any thing. I never do--I
never will. It's an infernal swindle. Some deuced Missionary Society,
or Tract Society, or Bible Society, some damnable doing-good society,
that bleeds the entire community, has sent you up here, Sir, to suck
money out of me with your smooth face. They're always at it. They're
always sending boys, and ministers in the milk, by Jove! and women that
talk in a way to turn the milk sour in the cellar, Sir, and who have
already turned themselves sour in the face, Sir, and whom a man can't
turn out of doors, Sir, to swindle money out of innocent people! I tell
you, young man, 'twon't work! I'll, be whipped if I give you a solitary
red cent!" And Christopher Burt, in a fine wrath, seated himself by the
table, and wiped his forehead.

Abel stood patiently and meekly under this gust of fury, and when it
was ended, and Mr. Burt was a little composed, he began quietly, as if
the indignation were the most natural thing in the world:

"No, Sir; it is not a subscription paper--"

"Not a subscription paper!" interrupted the old gentleman, lifting his
head and staring at him. "Why, what the deuce is it, then?"

"Why, Sir, as I was just saying," calmly returned Abel, "it is a personal
matter altogether."

"Eh! eh! what?" cried Mr. Burt, on the edge of another paroxysm, "what
the deuce does that mean? Who are you. Sir?"

"I am one of Mr. Gray's boys, Sir," replied Abel.

"What! what!" thundered Grandpa Burt, springing up suddenly, his mind
opening upon a fresh scent. "One of Mr. Gray's boys? How dare you, Sir,
come into my house? Who sent you here, Sir? What right have you to
intrude into this place, Sir? Hiram! Hiram!"

"Yes, Sir," answered the man, as he came across the hall.

"Show this young man out."

"He may have some message, Sir," said Hiram, who had heard the preceding
conversation.

"Have you got any message?" asked Mr. Burt.

"No, Sir; but I--"

"Then why, in Heaven's name, don't you go?"

"Mr. Burt," said Abel, with placid persistence, "being one of Mr. Gray's
boys, I go of course to Dr. Peewee's Church, and t