boot cut
off: "Hold, hold!" he cried out. "Why I gave twelve and sixpence for
those boots only the week before last, and I will not have them spoilt."

"Which is best, friend Sam, to lose your leg or perhaps your life, or to
lose a boot, for it is not a pair? What is a boot compared to a man's
leg? A boot will wear out in a few months; his leg is to last him for
his life. And let me ask you, what is a man's sin, his favourite sin,
which he can retain at best but for his life, compared to his soul,
which will last for ever? No man can get rid of his soul. He cannot
put it out as he can a light. Do what he can, it will last for ever."

"O sir, don't go and talk in that way," cried out Sam; "I don't like
it--I can't bear it."

"Well, well, friend, I will not talk more to you now on the matter,"
said Farmer Grey. "Some day you may like to hear more."

"May be, may be--oh! oh! oh!" Sam Green groaned with pain.

At last the surgeon came, and set Sam's leg. He shook hands with Farmer
Grey. "I wish that we had more like you," he said to the farmer. "I
knew when it was you sent for me, that some one was really hurt. The
man will get well, I hope, and his leg will be of good use to him if he
keeps quiet and does not fret." The surgeon said he would call again in
the evening, and went away.

"Now, Sam, we will let your wife and family know, that they may come and
see you," said Farmer Grey.

"Much obliged, sir; but I have no wife, and no family, except one
daughter; and she is married, and lives with her husband, and has her
children to look after, and does not care for me," said Sam.

"We won't think that of her," said the farmer. "I will let her know
what has happened to you. May be, you would like to have one of her
children with you."

Sam looked pleased for the first time, and said, "Well, sir, there is a
little chap--my grandchild--I should like to have him now and then with
me. They call him Paul, Tiny Paul. He is a merry little fellow, and
he'd keep me from getting low."

"Well, we'll try and send Tiny Paul to you," said the farmer. "What is
your daughter's name?"

"Susan Dixon, sir," answered Sam. "Dixon is her husband's name. He is
a decent, hard-working man, and she's a good wife; but I never cared
much for any of them, except Tiny Paul. You'll send Tiny Paul to me
then, sir?"

"Yes, Sam, yes; I have promised that I will," said Farmer Grey, thinking
to himself, "I may win over Sam G