ed
by the latter in the hands of his lawyer, with directions to sue them
out, and obtain the most that could be realized. Only the day
before--the last day of the year--he had learned that there were two
judgments that would take precedence of his, and sweep off a share of
the debtor's property. The fact had chafed him considerably, causing
him to indulge in harsh language toward his debtor. This language was
not just, as he knew in his heart. But the loss of his money fretted
him, and filled him with unkind feelings toward the individual who had
occasioned the loss.

No wonder that Mr. Edgar was unhappy. As he continued on his way, the
angry impulse that quickened the blood in his veins subsided, and
through the mist that obscured his mental vision, he saw the bright
face of a child, the child of his unfortunate debtor. His own precious
one was no lovelier, no purer; nor had her lips uttered on that
morning in sweeter tones, the words, "A happy New Year, papa!"

How the thought thrilled him.

With his face bowed, and his eyes upon the ground, Mr. Edgar walked
on. He could not sweep aside the image of that child at the window,
nor keep back his thoughts from entering the dwelling where her
presence might be the only sunbeam that gave light in its gloomy
chambers.

When Mr. Edgar arrived at his store, his feelings toward Mr. James
were very different from what they were on the day previous. All
anger, all resentment, were gone, and kindness had taken their place.
What if Mr. James did owe him a thousand dollars? What if he should
lose the whole amount of this indebtedness? Was the condition of the
former so much better than his own, that he would care to change
places with him? The very idea caused a shudder to run along his
nerves.

"Poor man!" he said to himself, pityingly. "What a terrible thing to
be thus involved in debt, thus crippled, thus driven to the wall. It
would kill me! Men are very cruel to one another, and I am cruel with
the rest. What are a thousand dollars to me, or a thousand dollars to
my well-to-do neighbor, compared with the ruin of a helpless
fellow-man? James asked time. In two years he was sure he could
recover himself, and make all good. But, with a heartlessness that
causes my cheek to burn as I think of it, I answered, 'The first loss
is always the best loss. I will get what I can, and let the balance
go.' The look he then gave me has troubled my conscience ever since.
No wonder it is