"Don’t take the edge off dose scissors, mine fader," said young Harris, snatching them away from his parent. "And vy not? Dey are my scissors!" exclaimed Mr Harris, endeavouring to grab them back. "Ven I haf bought dem dey vill not be yours," explained young Harris, amiably turning the point of the scissors towards his sire, so that, should the latter persist in his endeavour to regain them, he might receive some hurt from the effort. The old dealer gazed wonderingly at his fond child. "You--you vill buy dose scissors? Ah! at the sale?" "No--from you, mine fader. I haf saved up some money, and _I_ haf backed ’orses, too. But I did notice, mine fader, dat the ’orses you did bet on did always lose, so I did always bet on dose vot you didn’t, and so when you did lose I did often vin, and so, mine fader, I will buy the pizness from you--dat is to say," concluded the young man with hasty caution, "I vill pay your debts, mine fader, if you vill gif me the pizness." "Isaac," said Mr Harris, with emotion, "do not be hard on your old fader. Think of the money I skwandered on your education, my son--think of the peautiful school I put you to ven you vos a boy----" "It vas only fivepence a veek!" retorted young Isaac, ungratefully. "And ven you vos fourteen, my son Isaac, ven you vos an eddicated young gentleman, I took you from dat school and I put you behind the counter, and I taught you the pizness--and you had two soots of clothes a year, and a veek’s ’oliday at Margit--oh! I haf been a kind fader to you, my son Isaac! Vill you lend me the money to pay my debts vith, Isaac?" "Not a farding!" exclaimed young Harris, roughly. "You’ve been ’ard on me, and now I’ll be ’ard on you. You’ve made me vork and slave while you’ve gone off to put money on ’orses that always fell down! Yes, you’ve been ’ard on me, and now I’ll be----" Here young Harris paused in his harangue. An idea occurred to him. If he bought up his father’s business and turned his father out of the house, he would have to engage a shopman. That would come expensive. No, he must keep his father on, and make him help with the work. Old Harris was quick to take advantage of the discontinuance of Isaac’s discourse. "You von’t be too ’ard on me, my son?" he whined, "think of the pantermimes I took you to ven you vos a little boy." "Vell, I vill not be ’ard on you, mine fader," responded young Harris, apparently softened by this tender reminiscence. "No, I vill tell you vot I vill do. I vill take you into partnership. You shall be as I vos--you shall haf what you haf gave me. Is not that dootiful of me, mine fader?"