ition,
therefore, could not be thought of. His wife argued for the shop, but
he would not listen to her arguments. His final determination was to
become a grocer, and a grocer he became. No doubt he thought it more
worthy of his dignity to sell rice, sugar, soap, candles, etc., than
hats. Why one should be more honourable or dignified than the other we
do not understand. Perhaps there is a difference, but we must leave
others to define it--we cannot.

A grocer Mr. Parker became instead of a hatter. Of the former business
he was entirely ignorant; of the latter he was perfect master. But he
would be a grocer--a merchant. He commenced in the retail line, with
the determination, after he got pretty well acquainted with the
business, to become a wholesale dealer. That idea pleased his fancy.
For two years he kept a retail grocery-store, and then sold out, glad
to get rid of it. The loss was about one-third of all he was worth. To
make things worse, there was a great depression in trade, and real
estate fell almost one-half in value. In consequence of this, Mr.
Parker's income from rents, after being forced to sacrifice a very
handsome piece of property to make up the deficit that was called for
in winding up his grocery business, did not give him sufficient to meet
his current family expenses.

There was now no alternative left. The retired hatter was glad to open
a shop once more, and look out for some of his old customers. Mr.
Steele saw his announcement, that he had resumed business at his old
stand and asked for a share of public patronage. About two weeks after
the shop was re-opened, that gentleman called in and ordered a hat. As
he came to the door and was about reaching his hand out to open it, he
heard the hatter's voice singing an old familiar air. A smile was on
the face of Mr. Steele as he entered.

"All right again," he said, coming up to the counter and offering his
hand. "Singing at your work, as of old! This is better than playing the
gentleman, or even keeping a grocery-store."

"Oh, yes, a thousand times better," the hatter replied warmly. "I am
now in my right place."

"Performing your true use to the community, and happier in doing so."

"I shall be happier, I am sure. I am happier already. My hat-blocks and
irons, and indeed, every thing around me, look like familiar friends,
and give me a smiling welcome. When health fails or age prevents my
working any longer, I will give up my shop, but not a