o recover the money out of which he had been so adroitly
cheated. Surely there was no wrong in recovering that, as of course he
would do, for how could a ragged street boy tell the name of one who
lived a hundred and fifty miles distant, in a small country town?

"I'll do it," said the deacon.

"You'll give me ten cents if I tell your name?"

"Yes, and you'll give me back the money I give you if you can't
tell."

"That's it, gov'nor."

"Then what's my name, my boy?" and the deacon extended his hand in
readiness to receive the forfeit of a wrong answer.

"Deacon John Hopkins," answered the boy, confidently.

The effect on the old man was startling. He was never more surprised
in his life. He stared at the boy open-mouthed, in bewilderment and
wonder.

"Well, I declare!" he ejaculated. "I never heard of such a thing."

"Aint I right, gov'nor?"

"Yes, my boy, you're right; but how on earth did you find out?"

"Give me the money, and I'll tell you;" and the boy extended his
hand.

The deacon drew the money from his vest-pocket, and handed it to the
young Arab, without remonstrance.

"Now tell me, my boy, how you know'd me."

The boy edged off a few feet, then lifted his venerable hat so as to
display the whole of his face.

"I'd ought to know you, deacon," he said; "I'm Sam Barker."

"By gracious, if it aint Sam!" ejaculated the old man. "Hallo! stop, I
say!"

But Sam was half-way across the street. The deacon hesitated an
instant, and then dashed after him, his long cloak floating in the
wind, and his hat unconsciously pushed back on the top of his head.

"Stop, you Sam!" he shouted.

But Sam, with his head over his shoulder, already three rods in
advance, grinned provokingly, but appeared to have no intention of
stopping. The deacon was not used to running, nor did he make due
allowance for the difficulty of navigating the crowded streets of the
metropolis. He dashed headlong into an apple-stand, and suffered
disastrous shipwreck. The apple-stand was overturned, the deacon's hat
flew off, and he found himself sprawling on the sidewalk, with apples
rolling in all directions around him, and an angry dame showering
maledictions upon him, and demanding compensation for damages.

The deacon picked himself up, bruised and ashamed, recovered his hat,
which had rolled into a mud-puddle, and was forced to pay the woman a
dollar before he could get away. When this matter was settled, he
looked for Sam, bu