The good man was surprised. "Well," said he, "seven dollars a week."

Many a time in after life had the Colonel reason to think over this
scene. He was a man the singleness of whose motives could not be
questioned. The one and sufficient reason for giving work to a homeless
boy, from the hated state of the Liberator, was charity. The Colonel had
his moods, like many another worthy man.

The small specks on the horizon sometimes grow into the hugest of thunder
clouds. And an act of charity, out of the wisdom of God, may produce on
this earth either good or evil.

Eliphalet closed with the bargain. Ephum was called and told to lead the
recruit to the presence of Mr. Hood, the manager. And he spent the
remainder of a hot day checking invoices in the shipping entrance on
Second Street.

It is not our place here to chronicle Eliphalet's faults. Whatever he may
have been, he was not lazy. But he was an anomaly to the rest of the
young men in the store, for those were days when political sentiments
decided fervent loves or hatreds. In two days was Eliphalet's reputation
for wisdom made. During that period he opened his mouth to speak but
twice. The first was in answer to a pointless question of Mr. Barbo's
(aetat 25), to the effect that he, Eliphalet Hopper, was a Pierce
Democrat, who looked with complacency on the extension of slavery. This
was wholly satisfactory, and saved the owner of these sentiments a broken
head. The other time Eliphalet spoke was to ask Mr. Barbo to direct him
to a boardinghouse.

"I reckon," Mr. Barbo reflected, "that you'll want one of them