The boy laughed timidly,--"It ain't a 'landlord,'
though--it's a landlady; it's my mother."

"Ah," said John, dallying with the change the
boy had pushed toward him. "Your mother, eh?
And where's your father?"

"He's dead," said the boy.

"And what's this for?" abruptly asked John,
examining his change.

"That's your change," said the boy: "You got
three for a quarter, and gave me a half."

"Well, YOU just keep it," said John, sliding back
the change. "It's for good luck, you know, my boy.
Same as drinking your long life and prosperity.
And, oh yes, by the way, you may tell your mother
I'll have a friend to dinner with me to-day."

"Yes, sir, and thank you, sir," said the beaming
boy.

"Handsome boy!" mused John, as he walked
down street. "Takes that from his father, though,
I'll wager my existence!"

Upon his office desk John found a hastily written