most
sunshine or shadow from life."

"Yes Jeanette we will meet in less than twenty years, but before then
your glad light eyes will be dim with tears, and the easy path you have
striven to walk will be thickly strewn with thorn; and whether you
deserve it or not, life will have for you a mournful earnestness, but
notwithstanding all your frivolity and flippancy there is fine gold in
your character, which the fire of affliction only will reveal."

Chapter III

[Text missing.]

Chapter IV

"How is business?"

"Very dull, I am losing terribly."

"Any prospect of times brightening?"

"I don't see my way out clear; but I hope there will be a change for the
better. Confidence has been greatly shaken, men of[?] business have
grown exceedingly timid about investing and there is a general
depression in every department of trade and business."

"Now Paul will you listen to reason and common sense? I have a
proposition to make. I am about to embark in a profitable business, and
I know that it will pay better than anything else I could undertake in
these times. Men will buy liquor if they have not got money for other
things. I am going to open a first class saloon, and club-house, on M.
Street, and if you will join with me we can make a splendid thing of it.
Why just see how well off Joe Harden is since he set up in the business;
and what airs he does put on! I know when he was not worth fifty
dollars, and kept a little low groggery on the corner of L. and S.
Streets, but he is out of that now--keeps a first class _Cafe_, and owns
a block of houses. Now Paul, here is a splendid chance for you; business
is dull, and now accept this opening. Of course I mean to keep a first
class saloon. I don't intend to tolerate loafing, or disorderly conduct,
or to sell to drunken men. In fact, I shall put up my scale of prices so
that you need fear no annoyance from rough, low, boisterous men who
don't know how to behave themselves. What say you, Paul?"

"I say, no! I wouldn't engage in such a business, not if it paid me a
hundred thousand dollars a year. I think these first class saloons are
just as great a curse to the community as the low groggeries, and I look
upon them as the fountain heads of the low groggeries. The man who
begins to drink in the well lighted and splendidly furnished saloon is
in danger of finishing in the lowest dens of vice and shame."

"As you please," said John Anderson stiffly, "I thought