the little boy, that stared at the lights and people with the round
eyes of childish wonder.

Every one looked up in surprise at the sudden appearance of the
little group, that suggested a christening more than anything else.

Planting themselves before Miss Burton, thus barring all egress,
Mr. Chints fumbled a moment in his pocket and drew out an envelope,
and with a loud, prefatory "Ahem!" began:

"My dear Miss Burton--that is the way Mrs. Chints says I should address
you, thought it strikes me as a trifle familiar and affectionate;
but I mean no harm--we're under pecul--very great obligations to
YOU. We learn--my wife has--that you are engaged--engaged--in--I
mean that you--teach. I'm sure that's a lawful calling--I mean
a laudable one, and no one can deny that it's useful. In my view
it's to your credit that you are engaged--in--that you teach.
I work myself, and always mean to. In fact I enjoy it more than
making speeches. But feeling that we were under wonderful obligations
to YOU, and learning--my wife did--that you were dependent on--on
your own labor, we thought that if this little fellow that you saved
so handsomely should hand you this check for five hundred dollars
it wouldn't be amiss." And here, according to rehearsal, the nurse
with great parade handed the child to Mrs. Chints, who now, with
much 'empressement,' advanced to a position immediately before Miss
Burton; meanwhile the poor, perspiring Mr. Chints put the envelope
into the child's chubby hand, saying:

"Give it to the lady, Augustus."