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aid the little man, "we had marvellous luck. I was able to buy your daughter for you with less than the amount of your savings." "T'ank you, Mistah Cantah," wailed the poor woman, "t'ank you, suh. Praised be de name ob de Lawd. He gib me Sal again. Oh, Mistah Cantah" (the agony in that cry), "is you gwineter stan' heah an' see her sister Hester sol' to--to--oh, ma little Chile! De little Chile dat I nussed, dat I raised up in God's 'ligion. Mistah Cantah, save her, suh, f'om dat wicked life o' sin. De Lawd Jesus'll rewa'd you, suh. Dis ole woman'll wuk fo' you twell de flesh drops off'n her fingers, suh." And had he not held her, she would have gone down on her knees on the stone flagging before him. Her suffering was stamped on the little man's face--and it seemed to Stephen that this was but one trial more which adversity had brought to Mr. Canter. "Nancy," he answered (how often, and to how many, must he have had to say the same thing), "I haven't the money, Nancy. Would to God that I had, Nancy!" She had sunk down on the bricks. But she had not fainted. It was not so merciful as that. It was Stephen who lifted her, and helped her to the coping, where she sat with her bandanna awry. Stephen was not of a descent to do things upon impulse. But the tale was told in after days that one of his first actions in St. Louis was of this nature. The waters stored for ages in the four great lakes, given the opportunity, rush over Niagara Falls into Ontario. "Take the woman away," said Stephen, in a low voice, "and I will buy the girl,--if I can." The little man looked up, dazed. "Give me your card,--your address. I will buy the girl, if I can, and set her free." He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a dirty piece of pasteboard. It read: "R. Canter, Second Hand Furniture, 20 Second Street." And still he stared at Stephen, as one who gazes upon a mystery. A few curious pedestrians had stopped in front of them. "Get her away, if you can, for God's sake," said Stephen again. And he strode off toward the people at the auction. He was trembling. In his eagerness to reach a place of vantage before the girl was sold, he pushed roughly into the crowd. But suddenly he was brought up short by the blocky body of Mr. Hopper, who grunted with the force of the impact. "Gosh," said that gentleman, "but you are inters'ted. They ain't begun to sell her yet--he's waitin' for somebody. Callatin' to buy her?" asked Mr. Hop
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