[Illustration: _Barber_ (_carried away by his reminiscences_). "AND
WHEN HE'D LOOPED THE LOOP HE DID A NOSE-DIVE THAT FAIRLY TOOK YOUR
BREATH AWAY."]

* * * * *

THE TWOPENNY BIN.

It was called _Greatheart_; or, _Samuel's Sentimental Side_; and I
think you will agree that it was a lot of title for twopence. Day
after day, as I fumbled among the old books in the Twopenny Bin of the
little secondhand bookseller's shop, that volume would wriggle itself
forward and worm its way into my hands; and I would clench my teeth
and thrust it to the remotest depths of the box.

Then it haunted me. All day in my room I could hear _Greatheart_; or,
_Samuel's Sentimental Side_ calling out to me, "How would you like to
be in the Twopenny Bin?"

I began to grow sentimental myself, and to handle those unconsidered
trifles with tenderness. For you never know; I might be in the
Twopenny Bin myself someday; might be picked up, just glanced at and
shifted back into the corner out of sight.

Yesterday _Greatheart_ again found himself in my hands, and I looked
to see the date of his entry upon the world. I reflected on his sixty
years of life, on the many happy fireside hours that had been spent in
his company, on the gentle solace he had furnished to lesser hearts.