Mr. Mack is a gentleman, who, though old in years, is not old in infirmity, and he walks about with a vim and spirit that might be profitably imitated by many listless young men of the period. Besides devoting his time and talents to his official position, he takes an active interest in everything of a philanthropic nature. We are ignorant of the number of societies which have these objects to attain, of which Mr. Mack is a member; but in all of them he is among the most active. Among the charitable societies, is one composed of ladies, who attend the wants of disabled soldiers, their widows and orphans. The ladies have selected our friend Mr. Mack as their almoner, and his office is visited every day by scores of poor people. On a late visit to the good man, we found a poor veteran just approaching his desk. "Mr. Mack, sir," said the man. "That's my name sir. Take a seat." The man stepped forward briskly, but with a limp. He was sixty years of age, with gray hair, shabbily attired, lame in the leg and arm, and, as it afterwards appeared, one half of his right foot gone; a wreck of the human form divine, but with much manliness left about him. "What is your business, friend?" "That's it, sir; and I'll thank you if you can do it," he replied cheerily, as he handed a letter. "You want to go to New London?" said Mr. Mack, after reading the missive. "That's it, sir; my darter lives there. I've walked all the way from Philadelphia, and my legs have kinder give out. One of them ain't of much account anyway, but I've got to make the best of it." _Mr. Mack._ "Were you a soldier? You know my business is principally with soldiers, although I should be glad to assist you if it is in my power." _Veteran._ "Well, I guess so, sir. I got knocked up in this kind of shape doing service for Uncle Sam." He raised his arm with difficulty, and pointed to his leg. _Mr. Mack._ "Have you your discharge papers?" _Veteran._ "I'm sorry to say that I haven't got them with me. I had them framed, and after the old woman died (tearfully), I sent them to Mollie for safe-keeping. But they're honorable, sir--they are, indeed." _Mr. Mack._ "I might give you a letter that would insure you an entrance to the Soldiers' Home. Would you like to go there?" _Veteran._ "O, dear! no, sir; although it may be a good enough sort of a place. I've got a home with my darter Mollie, who is well married, and settled in the place that I am making for; and I know that she will never go back on the old man, for she used to think too much of me, and be too delighted to see me when I came home from a long voyage in happier days. O, no, sir! (brushing the tears from his eyes with his coat sleeve), Mollie will make room for me."