[Illustration:  William Helped the Bookkeeper]

Ashton often asked William to go and ride, or to visit the oyster saloons, or the bowling alley, or the theatre.  To all invitations of this kind, William had but one answer.  He always said he had no time, or money to spare for such things.  After the day’s work was done, he loved to get back to his chamber to read.  He did not crave perpetual excitement, or any more eating and drinking than was supplied at his usual meals.

Not so with Ashton.  This young man had indulgent parents, and a plenty of money, or it seemed so to William; and yet he ate it, or drank it, or spent it in other things, as fast and so soon that he was often borrowing from the other clerks.

Ashton joked William upon his “stiff notions,” but the truth was that William was far the happier of the two.

At last a half bale of goods was missing; searching inquiries were made, and the theft was traced to Ashton.  O the shame and disgrace of the discovery! but alas, it was not his first theft.  Ashton had been in the habit of stealing little sums in order to get the means to gratify his taste for pleasure; and now that his guilt had come to light, he ran off, and before his parents were aware of it, fled to a far country, an outcast from his beautiful home, from his afflicted friends, and from all the comforts and blessings of a virtuous life.

William is rapidly rising in the confidence and respect of his employers, fearing God, and faithful in duty.

[Illustration:  “An outcast from his beautiful home.”]

[Illustration:  The Fatal Ten Minutes’ Delay]

[Illustration:  “Ten minutes more to sleep in his chair.”]

TEN MINUTES’ DELAY

All well-informed people are familiar with the sad account of the death of the young Prince Napoleon, who fell pierced by nineteen wounds at the hands of the Zulus, in South Africa, June 1, 1879.

Many will remember that Capt.  Carey, in his published report, mentioned that after they had selected the camping ground,—­the object for which the squad of six had been detailed,—­and had had coffee and rested, he suggested that they should remount and return to camp.  But the young prince, who commanded the squad, said,—­

“No, let’s wait ten minutes.”

Just as they were preparing to remount, at the expiration of that ten minutes, a body of Zulus came on them, and all fled but the prince, whose horse broke from him.  After a desperate resistance, he fell, covered with wounds, and died “in the tall grass of the douga.”

I presume all do not know that this pleading for ten minutes’ delay was a habit of the young prince from early childhood.

A correspondent of a leading Paris journal interviewed the empress as she was about leaving for the scene of the tragedy that had wrecked all her earthly hopes, and drew her into conversation on the subject of her son.