had been at the town of Peoria, in the State of Illinois, sometime in
the month of June, 1855.

There is a story connected with that little praying figure; a story,
which, to me, is a very touching one; and I believe myself to be the
only human being capable of telling it. Indeed, _I_ am only able
to tell a part of it. How the figure came to be sold by auction, in the
city of Toronto, at Messrs. Morris & Blackwell's sale on the 14th of
March, 1880, or how it ever came to be in this part of the world at
all, I know no more than the reader does; but I can probably tell all
that is worth knowing about the matter.

In the year 1850, and for I know not how long previously, there lived
at Peoria, Illinois, a journeyman-blacksmith named Abner Fink. I
mention the date, 1850, because it was in that year that I myself
settled in Peoria, and first had any knowledge of him; but I believe he
had then been living there for some length of time. He was employed at
the foundry of Messrs. Gowanlock and Van Duzer, and was known for an
excellent workman, of steady habits, and good moral character--
qualifications which were by no means universal, nor even common, among
persons of his calling and degree of life, at the time and place of
which I am writing. But he was still more conspicuous (on the _lucus
a non lucendo_ principle) for another quality--that of reticence. It
was very rarely indeed that he spoke to anyone, except when called upon
to reply to a question; and even then it was noticeable that he
invariably employed the fewest and most concise words in his
vocabulary. If brevity were the body, as well as the soul of wit, Fink
must have been about the wittiest man that ever lived, the Monosyllabic
Traveller not excepted. He never received a letter from any one during
the whole time of his stay at Peoria; nor, so far as was known, did he