"Brother Samuel Burge?" inquired the jeweller, rising.

The visitor nodded, and regarding him with a smile charged with fraternal
love, took his hand in a huge grip and shook it fervently.

"I am glad to see you, Brother Higgs," he said, regarding him fondly.
"Oh, 'ow my eyes have yearned to be set upon you! Oh, 'ow my ears 'ave
longed to hearken unto the words of your voice!"

He breathed thickly, and taking a seat sat with his hands upon his knees,
looking at a fine piece of cold beef which the housekeeper had just
placed upon the table.

"Is Brother Clark well?" inquired the jeweller, placing a chair for him
at the table and taking up his carving-knife.

"Dear Brother Clark is in excellent 'ealth, I thank you," said the other,
taking the proffered chair. "Oh! what a man he is; what a instrument for
good. Always stretching out them blessed hands of 'is to make one of the
fallen a Seventh Day Primitive."

"And success attends his efforts?" said the jeweller.

"Success, Brother!" repeated Mr. Burge, eating rapidly and gesticulating
with his knife. "Success ain't no name for it. Why, since this day last
week he has saved three pick-pockets, two Salvationists, one bigamist and
a Roman Catholic."

Brother Higgs murmured his admiration. "You are also a power for good,"
he said wistfully. "Brother Clark tells me in his letter that your