While the merry girl and myself were busy with the show-box, the
unceasing rain had driven another wayfarer into the wagon. He seemed
pretty nearly of the old showman's age, but much smaller, leaner, and
more withered than he, and less respectably clad in a patched suit of
gray; withal, he had a thin, shrewd countenance, and a pair of
diminutive gray eyes, which peeped rather too keenly out of their
puckered sockets. This old fellow had been joking with the showman,
in a manner which intimated previous acquaintance; but perceiving that
the damsel and I had terminated our affairs, he drew forth a folded
document, and presented it to me. As I had anticipated, it proved to
be a circular, written in a very fair and legible hand, and signed by
several distinguished gentlemen whom I had never heard of, stating
that the bearer had encountered every variety of misfortune, and
recommending him to the notice of all charitable people. Previous
disbursements had left me no more than a five-dollar bill, out of
which, however, I offered to make the beggar a donation, provided he
would give me change for it. The object of my beneficence looked
keenly in my face, and discerned that, I had none of that abominable
spirit, characteristic though it be, of a full-blooded Yankee, which
takes pleasure in detecting every little harmless piece of knavery.

"Why, perhaps," said the ragged old mendicant, "if the bank is in good
standing, I can't say but I may have enough about me to change your
bill."

"It is a bill of the Suffolk Bank," said I, "and better than the
specie."

As the beggar had nothing to object, he now produced a small buff-
leather bag, tied up carefully with a shoe-string. When this was