"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.