“I don’t agree with you,” replied the other, “because no one would have thought of it except that youngster.”

“Tim,” added the father, placing his hand affectionately on his head, “I am proud of you.”

And the little fellow blushed and replied: 

“I’m glad I happened to think of it in time, but it was rather close, wasn’t it?”

“It couldn’t have been more so, and but for you boat and cargo would have been a dead loss, and more than likely some of us would have lost our lives.”

That night at the supper table, Mr. Hunter remarked with a meaning smile: 

“Maggie, the Hunter family contains a fool and a genius, I’m not the genius and ‘Mit’ isn’t the fool.”

“Father, you are not just to yourself,” the boy hastened to say; “I have done wrong in not appreciating your kindness or indulgence, and I have resolved to do my best to please you.  I think I have some talent for composition and invention, but I can use it just as well, without neglecting the quarries and stone works, and if you will permit, I shall give you all the help I can in the business with the hope that some day, which I pray may be far distant, I shall become your successor.”

Tears filled the eyes of all, as the parent, rising from his chair, placed his hand on the head of Tim and said, in a tremulous voice: 

“God bless you, my son!”