e ever acquainted with me! If you
do I will make my papa have you hanged! For I do not choose to know a
thief, liar, and coward!"

"Claudia! Claudia! Claudia! You shock me beyond all measure, my dear!"
exclaimed the lady in a tone of real pain; and then lowering her voice
she whispered--"'Thief, liar, coward!' what shocking words to issue from
a young lady's lips."

"I know they are not nice words, Aunt Middleton, and if you will only
teach me nicer ones I will use them instead. But are there any pretty
words for ugly tricks?"

As this question was a "poser" that Mrs. Middleton did not attempt to
answer, the little lady continued very demurely:

"I will look in 'Webster' when I get home and see if there are."

"My boy," said Mr. Middleton, approaching our lad, "I have accused you
wrongfully. I am sorry for it and beg your pardon."

Ishmael looked up in surprise and with an "Oh, sir, please don't,"
blushed and hung his head. It seemed really dreadful to this poor boy
that this grave and dignified gentleman should ask his pardon! And yet
Mr. Middleton lost no dignity in this simple act, because it was right;
he had wronged the poor lad, and owed an apology just as much as if he
had wronged the greatest man in the country.

"And now, my boy," continued the gentleman, "be always as honest, as
truthful, and as fearless as you have shown yourself to-day, and though
your lot in life may be very humble--aye, of the very humblest--yet you
will be respected in your lowly sphere." Here the speaker opened his
portmonnaie and took from it a silver dollar, saying, "Take this, my
boy, not as a reward for your integrity,--that, understand, is a matter
of more worth than to be rewarded with money,--but simply as payment for
your time and trouble in defending my property."

"Oh, sir, please don't. I really don't want the money," said Ishmael,
shrinking from the offered coin.

"Oh, nonsense, my boy! You must be paid, you know," said Mr. Middleton,
urging the dollar upon him.

"But I do not want pay for a mere act of civility," persisted Ishmael,
drawing back.

"But your time and trouble, child; they are money to lads in your line
of life."

"If you please, sir, it was a holiday, and I had nothing else to do."

"But take this to oblige me."

"Indeed, sir, I don't want it. The professor is very freehearted and
pays me well for my work."

"The professor? What professor, my boy? I thought I had the honor to be
the only pro