ee the Motor; he was sure the thing was grinning at him behind the
plate glass. It had two round brass valves near the top that looked
like yellow eyeballs, and a lever at the bottom with double arms and a
cross-bar, which made him think of an iron jaw when he was in one of his
fits of nervous depression.

But John Henry Overholt was a man, and an honest one. He went straight
to the writing-table in the next room and sat down, and though his hand
shook, he wrote a clear and manly letter to the President of the College
where he had taught so well, stating his exact position, acknowledging
the failure of his invention, and asking help to find immediate
employment as a teacher, even in the humblest capacity which would
afford bread for his boy and himself. Presidents and principals of
colleges are in constant communication with other similar institutions,
and generally know of vacant positions.

When he had written his letter and read it over carefully, Overholt
looked at his timetable, got his hat, coat, and umbrella, and trudged
off through the slushy snow to the station, on his way to New York.

It was raining there, but it was not dismal; hurry, confusion, and noise
can never be that. He had not been in the city since the day when he
made his last attempt to raise money, and in his present state the
contrast was overwhelming. The shopkeepers would have told him that it
was a dull day for business, and that the rain was costing them hundreds
of dollars every hour, because there are a vast number of people who buy
things within the month before Christmas, if it is convenient and the
weather is fine, but will not take the trouble if the weather is bad;
and afterwards they are so glad to have saved their money that they buy
nothing of that sort till the following year. For Christmas shopping is
largely a matter of temptation on the one side and of weakness on the
other, and you cannot tempt a man to buy your wares if he will not even
go out and look at your shop window. At Christmas time every shopkeeper
turns into a Serpent, with a big S and a supply of apples varying, with
his capital, from a paper-bagful to a whole orchard, and though the
ladies are the more easily tempted, nine generous men out of ten show no
more sense just at that time than Eve herself did. The very air has
temptation in it when they see the windows full of pretty things and
think of their wives and their children and their old friends. Even
misers