ish, were safe to loan money upon. The
Hebrew gentleman was not so easily beguiled.

The time came when it was necessary to appeal to Mr. Hadger. That
gentleman held the dignity of the Swiggs family in high esteem, but
shook his head when he found the respectability of the house the only
security offered in exchange for a loan. Ah! a thought flashed to her
relief, the family watch and chain would beguile the Hebrew gentleman.
With these cherished mementoes of the high old family, (she would under
no other circumstance have parted with for uncounted gold,) she in time
seduced Mr. Israel Moses to make a small advance. Duty, stern and
demanding, called her to New York. Forced to reduce her generosity, she,
not without a sigh, made up her mind to give only thirty dollars to each
of the institutions she had made so many sacrifices to serve. And thus,
with a reduced platform, as our politicians have it, she set about
preparing for the grand journey. Regards the most distinguished were
sent to all the first families; the St. Cecilia had notice of her
intended absence; no end of tea parties were given in honor of the
event. Apparently happy with herself, with every one but poor Tom, our
august lady left in the Steamer one day. With a little of that vanity
the State deals so largely in, Mrs. Swiggs thought every passenger on
board wondering and staring at her.

While then she voyages and dreams of the grand reception waiting her in
New York,--of Sister Slocum's smiles, of the good of the heathen world,
and of those nice evening gatherings she will enjoy with the pious, let
us, gentle reader, look in at the house of Absalom McArthur.

To-day Tom Swiggs feels himself free, and it is high noon. Downcast of
countenance he wends his way along the fashionable side of King-street.
The young theologian is at his side. George Mullholland has gone to the
house of Madame Flamingo. He will announce the glad news to Anna. The
old antiquarian dusts his little counter with a stubby broom, places
various curiosities in the windows, and about the doors, stands
contemplating them with an air of satisfaction, then proceeds to drive a
swarm of flies that hover upon the ceiling, into a curiously-arranged
trap that he has set.

"What!--my young friend, Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the old man, toddling
toward Tom, and grasping firmly his hand, as he enters the door. "You
are welcome to my little place, which shall be a home." Tom hangs down
his head, re