“Man alive!” said he, after directing a keen glance at Mr. Ramsay’s face, “what is the matter?  Take some of the Dentist’s Friend, won’t you?” (pushing a plate toward him.) “I like it better than all the French stuff that was ever made, and Mabel keeps me liberally supplied.  You look awfully down in the mouth, Ramsay, as though you’d enjoy howling like the lone wolf on far Alaska’s shore, if you were sure nobody was looking.  Suppose you tell me what has impaled you.  Is it love, money, or indigestion, old fellow?”

The words were light, but the tone hearty and kind; and, thus encouraged, Mr. Ramsay laid bare his woes, Mr. Ketchum listening attentively, and saying, when he had finished, “I know; I know.  When I thought I had lost Mabel once, I carried the universe around on a sore back all day, and then my heart would get up on its hind legs and yelp half the night; and there have been other times when I got caught in the machinery, and I know how it hurts, I think of those times often.  They grind a man down to the quick, and send the chaff flying:  they teach him valuable lessons.  I remember I started out in life with two violent prejudices,—­one against Jews, and the other against Roman Catholics.  Well, in the greatest strait I have ever known, the Christian that came to my relief was a Jew in a town of seven thousand people; and when I had the smallpox a Sister of Charity took me to the hospital and nursed me, when every one had deserted me and left me to die or live without any meddling from them to bias me in my decision.  After that I said to myself, ’Job Ketchum, if the Lord can make and stand as great a fool as you have been, he can make plenty of good Jews and Roman Catholics, and if they have got his hall-mark they can do without your valuable endorsement; and when smelting-day comes I reckon you’ll find that the Protestant quartz won’t pan out all the silver that has been put in the earth’s veins.  You needn’t go around blushing for David and Thomas ?Kempis any longer, my son.  Take a holiday.’  My advice to you, Ramsay, is to keep a stiff upper lip.  Perhaps the buzz-saw has only got your clothes, and you will be all right when you cut loose; but if it has got you, all you can do is to stand and take it, and if you can remember who set it going it will be better for you.”

The last phrase Mr. Ketchum got out in a shamefaced way, as if very much ashamed of it, as indeed he was; but Mr. Ramsay was the better for the talk, and, though not “a readin’ man,” had easily understood the illuminated characters in this page of human experience.  He brightened perceptibly from this date, and was able to take a healthy interest in certain match-games of base-ball and la-crosse in neighboring cities, which he attended with Mr. Ketchum and Sir Robert, who, besides these diversions, had to visit the prisons and all the public schools, and to gather a mass of information in regard to these two subjects, with