lls ringing, veils flying, and voices chattering, they drew up before
Hamlin's shop. The party consisted of Mr. Middleton, his wife, and his
niece.

Mr. Middleton gave the reins to his wife and got out and went into the
shop to make a few purchases.

When his parcels had been made up and paid for, he turned to leave the
shop; but then, as if suddenly recollecting something, he looked back
and inquired:

"By the way, Hamlin, have those Histories come yet?"

"No, sir; but I shall write for them again by this evening's mail; I
cannot think what has delayed them. However, sir, there is one copy that
I can let you have, if that will be of any service."

"Certainly, certainly; it is better than nothing; let me look at it,"
said Mr. Middleton, coming back from the counter and taking the book
from Hamlin's hands.

In turning over the leaves he came to the presentation page, on which he
recognized his own handwriting in the lines:

"Presented to Ishmael Worth, as a reward of merit, by his friend
James Middleton."

"Why, this is the very copy I gave to that poor little fellow on the
hill, last August! How did you come by it again?" asked Mr. Middleton,
in astonishment.

"He brought it here to sell about an hour ago, sir, and as it was a
perfectly fresh copy, and I knew you were in a hurry for some of them, I
bought it of him," replied the dealer.

"But why should the lad have sold his book?"

"Why, law, sir, you cannot expect boys of his class to appreciate books.
I dare say he wanted his money to spend in tops or marbles, or some such
traps!" replied the dealer.

"Very like, very like! though I am sorry to think so of that little
fellow. I had hoped better things of him," assented Mr. Middleton.

"Law, sir, boys will be boys."

"Certainly; well, put the book in paper for me, and say what you are
going to ask for it."

"Well, sir, it is as good as new, and the work is much called for just
about now in this neighborhood. So I s'pose I shall have to ask you
about three dollars."

"That is the full price. Did you give the boy that?" inquired the
gentleman.

"Well, no, sir; but you know I must have my own little profit," replied
the dealer, reddening.

"Certainly," assented Mr. Middleton, taking out his purse--a delicate,
effeminate-looking article, that seemed to have been borrowed from his
wife, paying Hamlin and carrying off the book.

As he got into the sleigh and took the reins with one hand,