LITMIR.BIZ

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and every thing loves her."

      Was that, indeed, the secret of her power? Was the quality of her soul perceived in the impression of her hand, even by brute beasts! The father's explanation was, doubtless, the true one. Yet have I ever since wondered, and still do wonder, at the potency which lay in that maiden's magic touch. I have seen something of the same power, showing itself in the loving and the good, but never to the extent as instanced in her, whom, for a better name, I must still call "Gentle Hand."

      A gentle touch, a soft word. Ah! how few of us, when the will is strong with its purpose, can believe in the power of agencies so apparently insignificant! And yet all great influences effect their ends silently, unobtrusively, and with a force that seems at first glance to be altogether inadequate. Is there not a lesson for us all in this?

      WILL IT PAY?

      "I WANT an hour of your time this morning," said Mr. Smith, as he entered the counting-room of his neighbour, Mr. Jones.

      "Will it pay?" inquired Mr. Jones, smiling.

      "Not much profit in money," was answered.

      Mr. Jones shrugged his shoulders, and arched his eye-brows.

      "Time is money," said he.

      "But money isn't the all-in-all of life. There's something else in the world besides dollars."

      "Oh yes; and the man that has the dollars can command as much of this 'something else' that you speak of as he pleases."

      "I'm not so sure of that," replied Mr. Smith. "I can tell you something that money will not procure."

      "Say on."

      "A contented mind."

      "I'll take that risk at a very low percentage, so far as I am concerned," answered Mr. Jones.

      "But, as to this hour of my time that you ask? What is the object?"

      "You remember Lloyd who used to do business on the wharf?"

      "Yes; what of him? I thought he died in New Orleans a year ago."

      "So he did."

      "Not worth a dollar!"

      "Not worth many dollars, I believe. He was never a very shrewd man, so far as business was concerned, though honourable and kind-hearted. He did not prosper after leaving our city."

      "Honourable and kind-hearted!" returned Mr. Jones, with a slight air of contempt. "Such men are as plenty as blackberries. I can point them out to you by the dozen in every square; but it does not pay to be on too intimate terms with them."

      "Why?"

      "You are very apt to suffer through their amiable weaknesses."

      "Is this your experience?" inquired Mr. Smith.

      "My experience is not very extensive in that line, I flatter myself," said Mr. Jones; "but I know of some who have suffered."

      "I was speaking of Mr. Lloyd."

      "Yes—what of him?"

      "I learned this morning that his widow arrived in our city yesterday, and that she needs friendly aid and counsel. It seems to me that those who knew and esteemed her husband ought not to regard her with indifference. I propose to call upon her and inquire as to her needs and purposes, and I want you to accompany me."

      "Can't do it," answered Mr. Jones, very promptly.

      "Why not?"

      "It won't pay," returned Mr. Jones.

      "I don't expect it to pay in a business sense," said Mr. Smith; "but, surely, humanity has some claim to consideration."

      "Humanity! humph. Humanity don't pay, Mr. Smith; that's my experience. I've helped two or three in my time, and what return do you suppose I received?"

      "The pleasing consciousness of having done good to your neighbour."

      "Not a bit of it. I lost my money for my pains, and made enemies into the bargain. When I demanded my own, I received only insult—that's my experience, Mr. Smith, and the experience of ninety-nine in a hundred who listen to the so-called claims of humanity. As I said before—it doesn't pay."

      "Then you will not go with me to see Mrs. Lloyd?"

      "No, sir. You don't catch me hunting up the widows of broken merchants. Let them go to their own friends. I'd soon have plenty of rather unprofitable business on my hands, if I were to engage in affairs of this kind."

      "I hardly think it will pay to talk with you on this subject any longer," said Mr. Smith.

      "I'm just of your opinion," was the laughing answer, "unless I can induce you to let Mrs. Lloyd remain in ignorance of your benevolent intentions, and mind your own concerns, like a sensible man."

      "Good morning," said Mr. Smith.

      "Good morning," replied Jones; "in a week or two I shall expect to hear your report on this widow-hunting expedition."

      "It will pay, I reckon," said Mr. Smith, as he passed from the store.

      "Pay," muttered Jones, a sneer now curling his lip, "he'll have to pay, and roundly, too, unless more fortunate than he deserves to be."

      A little while after the departure of Mr. Smith, a sallow, sharp-featured man, with a restless eye, entered the store of Mr. Jones.

      "Ah, Perkins!" said the latter, familiarly, "any thing afloat to-day?"

      "Well, yes, there is; I know of one operation that is worth looking at."

      "Will it pay, friend Perkins? That's the touchstone with me. Show me any thing that will pay, and I'm your man for a trade."

      "I can get you fifty shares of Riverland Railroad stock, at eighty-two!"

      "Can you?" The face of Jones brightened.

      "I can."

      "All right. I'll take it."

      "Give me your note at sixty days, and I'll have the shares transferred at once."

      In five minutes from the time Perkins entered the store of Mr. Jones, he left with the merchant's note for over four thousand dollars in his hand. The shares in the Riverland Railroad had been steadily advancing for some months, and Mr. Jones entertained not the shadow of a doubt that in a very short period they would be up to par. He had already purchased freely, and at prices beyond eighty-two dollars. The speculation he regarded as entirely safe, and one that would "pay" handsomely.

      "I think that will pay a good deal better than hunting up the poor widows of insolvent merchants," said Mr. Jones to himself, as he walked the length of his store once or twice, rubbing his hands every now and then with irrepressible glee. "If I'd been led off by Smith on that fool's errand, just see what I would have lost. Operations like that don't go a begging long. But this gentleman knows in what quarter his interest lies."

      Not long after the departure of Perkins, a small wholesale dealer, named Armor, came into the store of Mr. Jones.

      "I have several lots that I am anxious to close out this morning," said he. "Can I do any thing here?"

      "What have you?" asked Mr. Jones.

      "Ten boxes of tobacco, fifty prime hams, ten boxes Havana cigars, some rice, &c."

      Now, these were the very articles Mr. Jones wanted, and which he would have to purchase in a day or two. But he affected indifference as he inquired the price. The current market rates were mentioned.

      "No temptation," said Mr. Jones, coldly.

      "They are prime articles, all; none better to be had," said the dealer.

      "If I was in immediate want of them, I could give you an order; but"–

      "Will you make me an offer?" inquired Armor, somewhat earnestly. "I have a good deal of money to raise to-day, and for cash will sell at a bargain."

      Mr. Jones mused for some time. He was not certain whether, in making or requiring an offer, he would get the best bargain out of his needy customer. At last he said—

      "Put down your prices to the very lowest figure, and

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