another side to that story, without doubt," remarked Mr.
Berry.

"That there is," said Miller; "and suppose we look at it. Monto knew
that young man much better than you or I, or any of us. He had borne
with his irregular habits and evil conduct for years, as well as a man
of his peculiar temperament could bear with them."

"A precious kind of forbearance it was, no doubt. It isn't in him to
bear with any one," broke in Mr. Jones.

"Will you censure a man for what he can't help?" asked Mr. Miller.

"I don't know that we should," was replied.

"It is clear that we ought not; for to do so would be for us to ask of
him an impossibility, and censure him for not performing it. Mr. Monto
is a man, as we all know, of exceedingly impatient temper. Keep that in
view. He takes this boy when quite young, and educates him as well as
teaches him his business. Before he is of age he abuses the confidence
reposed in him by his benefactor, neglects his business, associates with
vicious companions, and purloins his money. Still Monto bears with him,
in the hope that he will change. But he grows worse and worse; and at
length, after a long series of peculations at home, gets into a
difficulty, and is sent to jail to await the judgment of the law in his
case. I happened to be in Mr. Monto's store when he was sent for to bail
the young man out.

"'No,' he said firmly to the messenger, 'he is much better in prison
than out.'

"The man went away, and Monto, turning to me, said--

"'That, Mr. Miller, is the most painful thing I have done in my whole
life. But to have acted otherwise would have been wrong. Kind
admonition, stern reproof, angry expostulation, all have failed with
this young man, in whom I cannot help feeling a strong interest. I will
now leave him to the consequences of his own acts, and to the, I hope,
salutary results of his own reflections. If these fail to reform him,
there is no hope.' This was the spirit in which it was done. He did not
attend court when the trial came on, but he had a messenger there, who
kept him constantly advised of the proceedings. The acquittal gave him
great pleasure, and he expected the young man would return to him,
changed and penitent. He was, alas! grievously mistaken. The enlistment
hurt him exceedingly. I could perceive that his voice was unsteady when
he spoke of it. If he erred in his conduct, it was an error of judgment.
He meant to do good. But I do not believe he erred. In my