are your figures, man?"

"There may be something beyond money to take into the account,"
said I.

"What?" inquired Slade, with a kind of half credulity.

"Consider the different influences of the two callings in life--
that of a miller and a tavern-keeper."

"Well, say on."

"Will your children be as safe from temptation here as in their
former home?"

"Just as safe," was the unhesitating answer. "Why not?"

I was about to speak of the alluring glass in the case of Frank,
but remembering that I had already expressed a fear in that
direction, felt that to do so again would be useless, and so kept
silent.

"A tavern-keeper," said Slade, "is just as respectable as a
miller--in fact, the very people who used to call me 'Simon' or
'Neighbor Dustycoat,' now say 'Landlord,' or 'Mr. Slade,' and
treat me in every way more as if I were an equal than ever they
did before."

"The change," said I, "may be due to the fact of your giving
evidence of possessing some means. Men are very apt to be