the sum and
substance of your entire trouble."

Winny looked a little perplexed and a little annoyed, and then laughed.

"Have patience with your bundle of stupidity, Theodore," she said, half
deprecatingly. "I may do you credit yet some day, improbable as it
looks."

And then the dear old lady, who had been trotting back and forth at
intervals, now ushered in a teapot and called them to dinner; and they
three sat down, and heads were reverently bowed while the young man
reverently said: "Our Father, we return thee thanks for these, and all
the unnumbered blessings of this day. May we use the strength which thou
dost give us to thine honor and thy praise." And the old lady softly
said, "Amen."

I do not know that you have ever heard the dear old lady's name, but it
was McPherson--Mrs. McPherson. Of course you remember Winny, and the
young man was the person who used to be familiarly known by the name of
Tode Mall, but it was long since it had occurred even to him that he was
ever other than Theodore Mallery, the enterprising young proprietor of
that favorite refreshment-room down by the depot; for the dry-goods box
had disappeared, so also had the cellar rum-hole. There was a neat
building down there, the name, "Temperance House," gleamed in large
letters from the glass of both windows, and "Theodore S. Mallery" shone
over the door. Within all was as neat and complete as care and skill and
grace could make it; and that it was a favorite resort could be seen by
standing for a few moments to watch the comers and goers at almost any
hour in the day.

Theodore came down the street with his peculiar rapid tread, glanced in
to see if his brisk little assistant was in attendance, then went across
the street and around the corner to a grocery near at hand.

"Mr. Parks," he said, speaking as one in the habit of being full of
business and in haste, "can you cash this note for me? Good afternoon,
Mr. Stephens," to that gentleman, who stood in a waiting attitude.

"Yes," said Mr. Parks, promptly, "if you will count this roll of bills
for me. I'm one of those folks that I've read about who 'count for
confusion,' I guess. Anyhow, these come different every time."

"With pleasure, sir," answered Theodore, seizing upon the bills with
alacrity, and fluttering them through his fingers with the rapidity of
thought. "Ninety-eight--seventy-three," he announced after a few seconds
of flutter and rustle.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite