"Ishmael! come here, my boy," called Mr. Middleton.

Our boy came as fast as his weakness and his burden would permit him.

"Get in here, my boy, and take this seat beside me. We are going the

same way that you are walking, and we can give you a ride without

inconveniencing ourselves. And besides I want to talk with you," said

Mr. Middleton, as Ishmael came up to the side of the sleigh and took off

his hat to the party. He bowed and took the seat indicated, and Mr.

Middleton started his horses, driving slowly as he talked.

"Ishmael, did you ever have a sleigh-ride before?" inquired Claudia,

bending forward and laying her little gloved hand upon his shoulder, as

he sat immediately before her.

"No, miss."

"Oh, then, how you'll enjoy it! It is so grand! But only wait until

uncle is done talking and we are going fast! It is like flying! You'll

see! But what do you think, Ishmael! Do you think somebody--I know it

was that old Hamlin--didn't go and tell uncle that you went and--"

"Claudia, Claudia, hold your little tongue, my dear, for just five

minutes, if you possibly can, while I speak to this boy myself!" said

Mr. Middleton.

"Ah, you see uncle don't want to hear of his mistakes. He is not vain of

them."

"Will you hold your tongue just for three minutes, Claudia?"

"Yes, sir, to oblige you; but I know I shall get a sore throat by

keeping my mouth open so long."

And with that, I regret to say, Miss Merlin put out her little tongue

and literally "held" it between her thumb and finger as she sank back in

her seat.

"Ishmael," said Mr. Middleton, "I have seen your poster about the

pocketbook. It is mine; I dropped it this forenoon, when we first came

out."

"Oh, sir, I'm so glad I have found the owner, and that it is you!"

exclaimed Ishmael, putting his hand in his pocket to deliver the lost

article.

"Stop, stop, stop, my impetuous little friend! Don't you know I must

prove my property before I take possession of it? That is to say, I must

describe it before I see it, so as to convince you that it is really

mine?"

"Oh, sir, but that was only put in my poster to prevent imposters from

claiming it," said Ishmael, blushing.

"Nevertheless, it is better to do business in a business-like way,"

persisted Mr. Middleton, putting his hand upon that of the boy to

prevent him from drawing forth the pocketbook. "Imprimis--a crimson

pocketbook, with yellow silk lining; items--in one compartment three

quarter eagles in gold; in another two dollars in silver. Now is that

right?"

"Oh, yes, sir; but it wasn't necessary; you know that!" said Ishmael,

putting the pocketbook in the hand of its owner.




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