"That, madam, depends on cases; cripples are not worth much. But, now and then, we get a legless fellow what's sound in body, can get round sprightly, and such like; and, seeing how we can make him answer a sight of purposes, he'll bring something," he sedately replies, with muscles unmoved. "Cases what doctors give up as 'done gone,' we gets for ten and twenty dollars; cases not hanging under other diseases, we give from thirty to fifty-and so on! Remember, however, you must deduct thirty per cent. for death. At times, where you would make two or three hundred dollars by curing one, and saving his life, you lose three, sometimes half-a-dozen head." The Elder consoles his feelings with the fact that it is not all profit, looks highly gratified, puts a large cut of tobacco in his mouth, thanks God that the common school-bill didn't pass in the legislature, and that his business is more humane than people generally admit. "How many have you in all?" "The number of head, I suppose? Well, there's about thirty sick, and ten well ones what I sent to market last week. Did-n-'t-make-a-good market, though," he drawls out. "You are alone in the business?" "Well, no; I've a partner-Jones; there's a good many phases in the business, you see, and one can't get along. Jones was a nigger-broker, and Jones and me went into partnership to do the thing smooth up, on joint account. I does the curing, and he does the selling, and we both turns a dollar or two-" "Oh, horrors!" interrupts the lady, looking at Mr. Praiseworthy sarcastically. "Murder will out, men's sentiments will betray them, selfishness will get above them all; ornament them as you will, their ornaments will drop,--naked self will uncover herself and be the deceiver." "Not at all!" the Elder exclaims, in his confidence. "The Lord's will is in everything; without it we could not battle with the devil; we relieve suffering humanity, and the end justifies the means." "You should have left out the means: it is only the end you aim at." "That's like accusing Deacon Seabury of impious motives, because he shaves notes at an illegal interest. It's worse-because what the law makes legal the church should not make sinful." This is Praiseworthy's philosophy, which he proclaims while forgetting the existence of a law of conscience having higher claims than the technicalities of statutes. We must look to that to modify our selfishness, to strengthen our love for human laws when founded in justice. "And who is this poor girl?" enquires Mrs. Rosebrook, stepping softly forward, and taking her by the hand. "Marston's once; some Indian in her, they say. She's right fair looks when she's herself. Marston's in trouble now, and the cholera has made sad havoc of his niggers," Mr. Praiseworthy replies, placing a chair, and motioning his hand for the lady to be seated. The lady seats herself beside the girl,--takes her hand.