His unctuous laughter made the seat tremble. "Not a blue one, mind you.
Blue? Not a bit of it. Why, bless you, when I became a Christian, all
the blue went out of my heart and went into my sky.

"My father was physically large--I take after him. My mother--" he
stopped abruptly and lifted his hat reverently; the tears filled his eyes
and coursed down his cheeks, and presently, with choking voice he
continued:

"My mother, God bless her memory, was the best woman and the grandest
Christian I ever knew. She lives in heaven, and she lives in my heart.
I would that I were as much like mother spiritually as I resemble father
physically."

The tender pathos of his voice, as he said this, made me feel that his
sainted mother, were she present, would have no reason to feel ashamed of
her son.

As he was about to replace his hat on his head, I noticed in large
letters pasted on the lining, these words, "Hinder nobody--help
everybody."

"Excuse me, sir;" I said, as I pointed to the words, "what is the meaning
of that?"

Quickly the tears on his cheeks, were illuminated by a smile as he
said--"That's my watchword; I carry it in my hat, have it hung up on my
wall at home, and since I went into my present business, I've tried to
make it the daily practice of my life."