"Professor, I really do admire the justice and forbearance of your nature." "Well, young Ishmael, there was another thing. I was getting too old to tramp miles and miles through the country with a heavy pack on my back, as I used to do." "Well, then, I hope you have saved a little money, at least, old friend, to make you comfortable in your old age," said Ishmael feelingly. The poor, old odd-job man looked up with a humorous twinkle in his eye, as he replied: "Why, law, young Ishmael, the idea of my saving money! When had I ever a chance to do it in the best o' days? Why, Ishmael, they say how ministers of the gospel and teachers of youth are the worst paid men in the community; but I think, judging by my own case, that professors are quite as poorly remunerated. It used to take everything I could rake and scrape to keep my family together; and so, young Ishmael, I haven't saved a dollar." "Is that so?" asked Ishmael, in a voice of pain. "True as gospel, young Ishmael--Mr. Worth." "How then do you manage to live, Morris? I ask this from the kindest of feelings." "Don't I know it, young--Mr. Worth. Well, sir, I do an odd job once in a while yet, for the colored people, and that keeps me from starving," said the professor, with a smile. Ishmael fell into a deep thought for a while, and then lifting his head, said: "Well, professor, you have been in your day and generation as useful a man to your fellow-creatures as any other in this world. You have contributed as much to the comfort and well-being of the community in which you live as any other member of it! And you should not and you shall not be left in your old age, either to suffer from want or to live on charity--" "I may suffer for want, Mr. Worth, but I never will consent to live on charity!" said the odd-job man with dignity. "That I am sure you never will, professor; though mind! I do not believe it to be any degradation to live by charity when one cannot live in any other way. For if all men are brethren should not the able brother help the disabled brother, and that without humbling him?" "Yes; but I am not disabled, young--Mr. Worth. I am only disused." "That is very true. And therefore I spoke as I did when I said just now that you should not suffer from want nor live by charity. Listen to me, professor. I have a proposition to make to you. Your daughters are all married and your work is done; you are alone and idle here. But you are not a mere animal to be tied down to one spot of earth by local attachment. You are a very intelligent man with a progressive mind. You will never stop improving, professor. You have improved very much in the last few years. I notice it in your conversation--" "I am glad you think so, young--Mr. Worth! but I'm getting aged." "What of that? You are 'traveling towards the light,' and after improving all your life here you will go on progressing through all eternity." "Well, sir, that thought ought to be a great comfort to an old man."