oon followed
possession.

One morning Mr. Alexander repaired alone to his library, where, on the
day before, had been placed a new painting, recently imported by his
friend the picture-dealer. It was exquisite as a work of art, and the
biddings for it had been high. But he succeeded in securing it for the
sum of two thousand dollars. Before he was certain of getting this
picture, Mr. Alexander would linger before it, and study out its
beauties with a delighted appreciation. Nothing in his collection was
deemed comparable therewith. Strangely enough, after it was hung upon
the walls of his library, he did not stand before it for as long a space
as five minutes; and then his thoughts were not upon its beauties.
During the evening that followed, the mind of Mr. Alexander was less in
repose than usual. After having completed his purchase of the picture,
he had overheard two persons, who were considered good judges of art,
speaking of its defects, which were minutely indicated. They likewise
gave it as their opinion that the painting was not worth a thousand
dollars. This was throwing cold water on his enthusiasm. It seemed as
if a veil had suddenly been drawn from before his eyes. Now, with a
clearer vision, he could see faults, where before every defect was
thrown into shadow by an all-obscuring beauty.

On the next morning, as we have said, Mr. Alexander entered his library,
to take another look at his purchase. He did not feel very happy. Many
thousands of dollars had he spent in order to secure the means of
self-gratification; but the end was not yet gained.

A glance at the new picture sufficed, and then Mr. Alexander turned from
it with an involuntary sigh. Was it to look at other pictures? No. He
crossed his hands behind him, bent his eyes upon the floor, and, for the
period of half an hour, walked slowly backwards and forwards in his
library. There was a pressure on his feelings--he knew not why; a sense
of disappointment and dissatisfaction.

No purpose was in the mind of Mr. Alexander when he turned from his
library, and, drawing on his overcoat, passed forth to the street. It
was a bleak winter morning, and the muffled passengers hurried shivering
on their way.

[Illustration: "OH! I WISH I HAD A DOLLAR."]

"Oh! I wish I had a dollar."

These words, in the voice of a child, and spoken with impressive
earnestness, fell suddenly upon the ears of Mr. Alexander, as he moved
along the pavement. Something in t