ursts against the Border Ruffian, and smiled when Mr. Abner Reed, in
an angry passion, asked him to declare whether or not he was a friend of
the Divine Institution. After a while they forgot about him (all save
Miss Crane), which was what Mr. Hopper of all things desired.

One other friend besides Miss Crane did Eliphalet take unto himself,
wherein he showed much discrimination. This friend was none other than
Mr. Davitt, minister for many years of the Congregational Church. For Mr.
Davitt was a good man, zealous in his work, unpretentious, and kindly.
More than once Eliphalet went to his home to tea, and was pressed to talk
about himself and his home life. The minister and his wife ware
invariably astonished, after their guest was gone, at the meagre result
of their inquiries.

If Love had ever entered such a discreet soul as that into which we are
prying, he used a back entrance. Even Mr. Barbo's inquiries failed in the
discovery of any young person with whom Eliphalet "kept company."
Whatever the notions abroad concerning him, he was admittedly a model.
There are many kinds of models. With some young ladies at the Sunday
School, indeed, he had a distant bowing acquaintance. They spoke of him
as the young man who knew the Bible as thoroughly as Mr. Davitt himself.
The only time that Mr. Hopper was discovered showing embarrassment was
when Mr. Davitt held his hand before them longer than necessary on the
church steps. Mr. Hopper was not sentimental.

However fascinating the subject, I do not propose to make a whole book
about Eliphalet. Yet sidelights on the life of every great man are
interesting. And there are a few incidents in his early career which have
not gotten into the subscription biographical Encyclopaedias. In several
of these volumes, to be sure, we may see steel engravings of him, true
likenesses all. His was the type of face which is the glory of the steel
engraving,--square and solid, as a corner-stone should be. The very
clothes he wore were made for the steel engraving, stiff and wiry in
texture, with sharp angles at the shoulders, and sombre in hue, as befit
such grave creations.

Let us go back to a certain fine morning in the September of the year
1857, when Mr. Hopper had arrived, all unnoticed, at the age of two and
thirty. Industry had told. He was now the manager's assistant; and, be it
said in passing, knew more about the stock than Mr. Hood himself. On this
particular morning, about nine