If there was a ten-cent piece
left in his pocket on Saturday morning, he took care to spend it for
something to gratify Maggie or Leo before he went to the shop. For this
boy and girl--though they were not his own children, or even of any
blood relation to him--he lived and labored as lovingly and patiently
as though God had blessed him in the paternal tie.

Half an hour after Maggie left the shop there was a brief lull in the
business, and Andre seized his kettle, and bore it to a kind of closet,
where hair oils, hair washes, and the "Celebrated Capillary Compound"
were concocted. With a sausage in one hand and a penny roll in the
other, he ate as a hungry man eats when the time is short. Andre's
appetite was good, and thus pleasantly was he employed when Leo, the
barber's adopted son, entered the laboratory of odoriferous compounds.

"Maggie says you want to see me," said Leo.

The boy was dressed as neatly as the barber himself, but in other
respects he was totally unlike him. He had a sharp, bright eye, and his
voice was heavy, and rather guttural, being in the process of changing,
for he was fifteen years old. On the books of the grammar school, where
he was a candidate for the highest honors of the institution, his name
was recorded as Leopold Maggimore. If Leo was his pet name, it was not
because he bore any resemblance to the lion, though he was a bold
fellow, with no little dignity in his expression.

"I sent for you, Leo," replied Andre, when he had waited long enough
after the entrance of the boy to enable us to describe the youth, and
himself to dispose of the overplus of fried sausage in his mouth, so
that he could utter the words; "Mr. Checkynshaw spoke to me about you.
He wishes to see you at half past two o'clock."

"Mr. Checkynshaw!" exclaimed Leo, wondering what the head of the
well-known banking house could want with an individual so insignificant
as himself.

"He wants a boy."

"Does he want me?"

"I suppose he does."

"But, father, I shall lose my medal if I leave school now," added Leo.

"You must not leave now; but you can see Mr. Checkynshaw, and explain
the matter to him. He is a great man, and when you want a place, he may
be able to help you."

"The cat may look at the king, and I will go and see him; but I don't
see what good it will do. Fitz Wittleworth is there."

"He is to be discharged," quietly added Andre, as he deposited half a
sausage in his mouth.

"Fitz discharged!"