but when that little fellow spoke kindly to me, I felt as if Providence had not forsaken me."
Aikin listened to the story, and was silent. "What do you mean to do about him?" whispered William, rightly interpreting his father's perplexity.
"I hardly know, Willie."—"Oh," thought he, if Mr. Beckwith were only in town—he has money, and time, and a heart for every one's need!"
After a moment's consideration, he determined to go into the warehouse, not so much to apply to its proprietor, Morris Finley, for aid, as to consult with some gentlemen as to what aid had best be extended to the stranger. One suggested the hospital. There was no reason for taking him there, as he had no disease. The almshouse was proposed by another. Aikin replied, that a trifling present succour might save him from the degradation of public charity, and in a short time he might earn his own support. Finley, after rummaging his pockets, said he had no change; and then added, probably in reply to the contemptuous expression of Aikin's face, that there was no knowing but the man was an impostor, and, besides, he made it a rule never to give to strangers.
"It is a good time to make acquaintance with a stranger," said Aikin, "when he is dying of starvation." Finley turned on his heel, and busied himself in giving directions to his clerks, who but half concealed the smile of satisfaction which hovered on their lips at the "good rub," as they called it, their master had got from Aikin. A gentleman standing by gave Aikin five dollars, saying, "You
