“I see ye goin’ into your Uncle Lawrence’s a while ago, as I was comin’ along South Street.  Mr. Abel, Sir, I congratilate ee, Sir.  I’ve read your speech, and I sez to ma, sez I, I’d no idee of it; none at all.  Ma, sez she, Law, pa!  I allers knowed Mr. Abel Newt would turn up trumps.  You allers did have the women, Mr. Newt; and so I told ma.”

“I am very glad, Sir, that I have at last done something to deserve your approbation.  I trust I shall not forfeit it.  I have led rather a gay life, and careless; and my poor father and I have met with misfortunes.  But they open a man’s eyes, Sir; they are angels in disguise, as the poet says.  I don’t doubt they have been good for me.  At least I’m resolved now to be steady and industrious; and I certainly should be a great fool if I were not.”

“Sartin, Sir, with your chances and prospects, yes, and your talents, coz, I allers said to ma, sez I, he’s got talent if he hain’t nothin’ else.  I suppose your Uncle Lawrence won’t be so shy of you now, hey?  No, of course not.  A man who has a smart nevy in Congress has a tap in a good barrel.”

And Mr. Van Boozenberg laughed loudly at his own humor.

“Why, yes.  Sir.  I think I may say that the pleasantest part of my new life—­if you will allow me to use the expression—­is my return to the friends best worth having.  I think I have learned, Sir, that steady-going business, with no nonsense about it, is the permanent thing.  It isn’t flopdoddle, Sir, but it’s solid food.”

“Tonguey,” thought old Jacob Van Boozenberg, “but vastly improved.  Has come to terms with Uncle Lawrence.  Sensible fellow!”

“I think he takes it,” said Abel to himself, with the feeling of an angler, as he watched the other.

Just before they parted Abel took out his pocket-book and told Mr. Van Boozenberg that he should like to negotiate a little piece of paper which was not altogether worthless, he believed.

Smiling as he spoke, he handed a note for twenty-five thousand dollars, with his uncle’s indorsement, to the President.  The old gentleman looked at it carefully, smiled knowingly, “Yes, yes, I see.  Sly dog, that Uncle Lawrence.  I allers sez so.  This ere’s for the public service, I suppose, eh!  Mr. Newt?” and the President chuckled over his confirmed conviction that Lawrence Newt was “jes’ like other folks.”

He asked Abel to walk with him to the bank.  They chatted as they passed along, nodded to those they knew, while some bowed politely to the young member whom they saw in such good company.

“Well, well,” said Mr. Zephyr Wetherley as he skimmed up Wall Street from the bank, where he had been getting dividends, “I didn’t think to see the day when Abel Newt would be a solid, sensible man.”

And Mr. Wetherley wondered, in a sighing way, what was the secret of Abel’s success.

The honorable member came out of the bank with the money in his pocket.  When the clock struck three he had the amount of all the notes in the form of several bills of foreign exchange.